She fastens the last garter onto one of her thigh-highs, straightens up to pull the covers down, and plunks herself onto the bed, taking a swig of merlot before placing her glass on the bedside table.
Even after everything they've seen together, he still loves it when she catches him off-guard with a sexy little number under her bathrobe, or a surprise blowjob in the shower. Their most pleasurable encounters seem to center around an element of surprise. The impromptu trip to Atlantic City that led to some steamy hot tub sex, that one wild night when she'd foregone panties, and they ventured out to that dive bar in Brooklyn-she'd felt like a teenager, going at it in the bathroom with her boyfriend.
He should be home by now, she thinks, glancing at the clock as her mind wanders and her hand travels absentmindedly down her body.
Three years and a couple of "I Do's" later, they'd managed to get their hormones under control, but Olivia still loves to keep her husband on his toes. Which is how she came to be suddenly splay legged, on their bed, topless in a black lace garter with a matching thong and sky-high stilettos. She thoughtlessly tugs at the material covering the smooth juncture of her thighs. She slips her fingers into the slick pink folds there while her other hand tugs at one of her taut nipples.
After a few teasing touches, she sinks two fingers inside herself. She's so enraptured by the proximity of her release, she doesn't hear the creak of the front door or the slow footfall of her lover, who is now standing at the foot of the bed with his arms folded across his chest.
"Goddammit Elliot!" She jumps, her cheeks darkening a few shades. "How long have you been standing there?"
He inhales deeply, his expression is unreadable.
"I'm sorry-" she sputters a bit, eyeing the half-drunk glass on the nightstand, "I ju-I wanted to surprise you."
