These Are the Moments You'll Never Forget (2/?): Hey Girl, What's Your Fantasy?
"So, how's this for low-key?" Mark said as he poured Callie another glass of wine.
"It's perfect," Callie replied. She wiggled a little, snuggling further into the mound of pillows behind her back. "Thank you so much."
"I know it's what you wanted, but I feel kind of bad that we're not doing something really special. It's our first anniversary! I feel like there should be some kind of grand romantic gesture involved," he said.
"We're both surgeons, we have a five month old daughter…on the rare occasion when we do see each other, I'm exhausted. There's nothing more romantic to me right now than being able to spend the night in bed, enjoying wine and gourmet takeout, and snuggling with the man I love," she replied.
"Have I told you how amazing you are lately?" Mark whispered, nuzzling his nose against Callie's cheek before placing a soft kiss along her jaw line.
"Everyday," Callie moaned. "You're pretty amazing yourself."
A year of marriage, months of dating, and years of friendship before that and he still had the power to make her feel like the sexiest woman on earth with a single kiss. It was hard to believe that this was the same man that went through women like he changed his clothes when they first met...now here he was, domesticated family man—loving husband and doting father. He'd pulled her back from the brink of insanity when her first marriage failed. He showed her what it was like to be truly loved when she thought she was too broken to ever be…and every single day of their marriage he managed to find a moment to remind her of how much she was wanted (even when they were mad at each other). She would always be grateful to him for that.
"I have a gift for you," she said, pulling away from him. She reached over and pulled a small gift box out of the drawer of her night stand. "I hope you like it."
Mark grinned like a kid on Christmas morning and excitedly ripped the paper off. His face dropped when he finally got the lid off the box and Callie had to bite the inside of cheeks to stop herself from laughing.
"A confirmation email? I don't get it," he said, and she could have sworn she saw the hint of a pout.
"It's for the retractable stripper pole I ordered," she replied nonchalantly, and his smile immediately returned. He'd been hinting about it for months. "I was hoping it would arrive in time, but no such luck."
"I love it and I love you! Thank you!" he exclaimed, nearly knocking her off the bed as he showered her in kissed. "Hey, I have something for you too."
He reached under the bed and retrieved a beautifully wrapped box. He waited anxiously as she carefully unwrapped it, removing each piece of tape with surgical precision because she refused to tear wrapping paper. It was frustrating to watch and her whole family always teased her about it, but she refused to give in. She said that if someone puts in the time and effort to wrap a gift for you, the least you can do is unwrap it carefully.
"Oh, mama likes! It's gorgeous!" Callie gasped as she pulled delicate lace bra and panties from the box. "You know I love Agent Provocateur, but I don't think I'm ready for this yet. I've got a few more pounds of baby weight to lose."
"Are you kidding me? You've always been exceptionally fuckable, but since the baby it's just been…" he replied. "Let's just say it took a cold shower and my left hand to clear my head after we operated together yesterday. You're so hot when you yell at interns."
"Fuckable, huh?" Callie replied, narrowing her eyes and moving to straddle him. She reached over to grab her wine glass and drained it in one long sip. Mark busied himself with palming her ass with both hands as she wiggled to make herself comfortable. He groaned at the raging hard-on that developed from her movements. She smiled wickedly when she felt it pressing against her center. "Hmm, I guess I am."
"While we're on the subject, you missed the second part of your gift," Mark muttered against her skin as he trailed kisses along her throat. "Check under the tissue paper."
She tossed the tissue paper aside and under it she found a small slip of paper. She read it, then looked curiously at Mark before asking, "Any fantasy I want?"
"Anything," he replied.
"I think I'll cash this in tonight then," she started. "Here's what I had in mind…"
"You are sick, woman. SICK!" Mark exclaimed, waving the dish brush wildly and splashing soapy water all over the kitchen. "Don't smile at me like that…you—you're insane!"
Callie sat at the kitchen table in Mark's boxers and tank, with her chin resting in the palm of her hand, smiling like a Cheshire cat. Any man who would don nothing but boxers, a frilly apron, yellow dish gloves, and a wig just for the sake of indulging her Donna Reed fantasy had to love her…unconditionally. It really wasn't news but she was in awe of the lengths he was willing to go to prove it to her. He'd do anything to make her happy and that made him the most amazing man in the world in her eyes.
"You looooove me," she teased.
"Damn straight I do! I'm completely whipped and it's all your fault!" he said, smirking at her. He felt like a complete idiot, but that smile on her face made it all worth it. "I don't believe you're actually getting off on this, you know. I think you're doing this just to see how far you can push me."
Callie just smirked in response. With deliberate movements, she slowly made her way over to where he was standing and wedged herself between him and the sink. She took the dish brush from his hand and tossed it carelessly behind her where it landed in the sink with a splash and a thud. She pulled both of the dish gloves off before standing on her toes to whisper in his ear, "If you don't think I'm getting off on this, why don't you check and see?"
Mark kissed her chin as he slid both hands beneath the tank and softly caressed the smooth skin of her stomach. She moaned softly as one of his hands travelled over her hip and down the back of her shorts to cup her ass at the same time his other hand ventured down the front. He was a little surprised to find her so hot and wet. He chuckled and shook his head when she gave him that "I told you so" look. He let his fingers circle her clit a few times just to tease, then withdrew his hand. She whimpered and groaned in response. He couldn't resist taking the time to lick his fingers clean—the fact that it made her groan in frustration was just icing on the cake. He took a step back and let his lustful eyes wander over her form. Even in his boxers and tank she was so gorgeous she took his breath away. Reaching out to tangle his fingers in her hair, he pulled her in for a kiss. He hadn't even noticed his free hand wandering under her shirt until she broke the kiss and slapped it away when his thumb found her nipple.
"Mark! Hands off the boobs or you're going to make me leak," she warned.
"I'm not scared of a little milk. It's actually kind of sexy," he growled.
"Freak," she replied.
"This from the woman with the Donna Reed fantasy? That's the pot calling the kettle black, Cal," he fired back.
"Ok, so we're both freaks," she said with a laugh.
"If we're going to let our freak flags fly, might as well go big or go home," he shot back. The bumped elbows like they always did when they were pumping each other up to get ready to operate. Without warning Callie shoved him back roughly.
"Speaking of going big…" she started, and then wiggled her body in a limbering motion—rolling her neck and shoulders to get loose. She dropped to her knees in front of him and his boxers were around his ankles before he had time to blink. She began to stroke him and it was his turn to moan.
"Happy anniversary," she said as she looked up at him from beneath her thick eyelashes.
He didn't have a chance to respond before she took him into her very talented mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head as her tongue worked its magic. He couldn't fathom how future anniversaries could ever top this one—but the one thing he did know was that they had many, many more ahead of them.
Fin.