Just an Ordinary Day - Part 2
Later that evening, Angela cooked minestrone for dinner and made sure it had ditalini pasta's, her son's favorite. She also grilled slices of chicken breast because even though she was a vegetarian, her husband and son rarely went through a meal without a portion of meat.
Phillip did most of the talking during dinner. The soon-to-be three-year-old was extremely articulate for his age, which, according to Dwight, wasn't uncommon in his family. Angela took pride in it, anyway. It was obvious her little boy was a bright child and she could already notice sparks of his brilliant analytical mind as Phillip interacted with his father.
There was something unique in the way Dwight treated their son. When Angela and Phillip had first moved to the farm, she had a hard time getting used to Dwight talking to their boy as if Phillip was perfectly capable of using logic and reason even as an infant. She soon found out that being talked to that way stimulated Phillip's language development and curiosity. The boy had picked up on a lot of things very quickly. He had formed a special bond with Dwight in a matter of days, and it became obvious early on that father and son genuinely enjoyed being in each other's company.
Angela was really glad that they had grown to be so close, and she loved how much Dwight loved their child. On moments like tonight, she would happily remain a spectator and allow them to do their thing.
She knew Phillip already looked up to Dwight. In a short period of time, her husband had become their source of security. But regardless of how much he loved his Dad, one thing hadn't changed for Phillip, and that was the fact that his Momma was still his biggest source of comfort and reassurance, especially when he was sick or tired. So it wasn't really surprising when, after dinner, the boy started to get cranky and went in his mother's direction raising both arms.
"You're getting so big," Angela made an effort to pick him up. Phillip's curiosity wasn't the only thing he'd inherited from his father. "Soon enough you're going to grow taller than me," she affectionately planted a kiss on his forehead as the boy rested his head on her shoulder.
"Not that difficult for any kid to do, really," Dwight commented as he carried the used dishes to the kitchen, "I would go as far as to say Phillip is probably getting stronger than you in a couple of years as well. Karate is going to help with that."
Angela rolled her eyes. It wasn't even like Dwight was intentionally making fun of her size. He actually believed every word he was saying and didn't see how his sincerity could come off as insulting.
"I am going to take you to brush your teeth and then we can read a story," she caressed Phillip's head as she disappeared with him in the hallway.
"Are Dublin and Paris going to join us?" Phillip asked, referring to the cats that lived in the farm with them.
"I bet they are already there," Angela smiled at her gorgeous little boy.
Dwight took of care of cleaning after they left. Once he was done with the dishes, he spent the following hour outside the slaughterhouse caught up with a faulty electric circuit. A few replaced fuses later, Dwight went back home and took a long shower, relaxing for the evening. He had recently started a new sci-fi book series about space travel and couldn't wait to get to the second volume of the story.
By the time he made it to his bedroom, Angela was already in bed. She had her back against the bed frame while distractedly flipping through a magazine about gardening.
"I figured out why the lights weren't working outside," he informed her. Angela had been the one to alert him earlier that day that the area of the farm near where they parked their cars had been in total darkness. "The bulbs weren't the problem, it was the fuse box. There were a couple of burned ones. I changed them and everything works now."
"Good," Angela looked up to meet his gaze for the first time. He was wearing his unimpressive short-sleeve pajamas, and there were tiny sprinkles of water still on the side of his face and his hair. His clean, earthy scent reached her nose and Angela put down the magazine on her nightstand.
"Can you turn off the lights?"
They'd had their share of disagreements that day and Angela didn't like going to bed feeling like there were unresolved issues. It just felt to her that all of her interactions with her husband had ended on negative terms, starting with their discussion in the morning over Phillip's birthday present up until their frustrated moment in his office. After that, Angela left work to pick up their son and upon seeing each other again at dinner, the two of them had barely exchanged two words.
"You want to go to sleep already?" Dwight half asked, half stated.
Not that he was exactly surprised by her request. After a few arguments about the lights in the bedroom - Dwight very much enjoyed reading until the late hours whereas Angela was usually asleep by nine -, he had gotten himself an e-reader. It was a great compromise for him to continue with his late night reading without disturbing his wife's rest. It was a little past nine, so it made sense that she was about to turn in for the night, but Dwight had hoped she would at least want to spend some time together before they called it a day.
"Not really," Angela replied, biting her lower lip.
Dwight saw the look on her face and read the invitation in her eyes. He was more than willing to accept it.
When it came to sex, Angela usually wasn't the one who took the first step. She was often too proud and much too prudish to initiate things, and she also knew he never hesitated to, which culminated with her rarely needing to do it. Every other night though, she would throw in those hints that were more direct than she would ever care to admit, but Dwight didn't mind. As long as he got to have her, it made no difference who made the first move.
He slowly put away his glasses and his Kindle on his nightstand and turned off the reading lamp on his side of the bed before he wrapped an arm around her waist. He felt her lips brushing on his neck when he pulled her down and covered her body with his.
Angela felt a familiar warmth irradiating all over her body when his mouth met hers and they kissed. She was trapped beneath him, his much heavier body and longer limbs completely encapsulating her in a warm, tight embrace.
No place in the world made her feel as safe as when she was in Dwight's arms. When he held her like this, Angela knew no harm could get to her because he would never allow it.
"Wait," she panted when he alternated gentle bites with hot kisses on her neck, "D, wait…"
"Oh, Monkey, are you serious?" he groaned, visibly uncomfortable. Dwight stopped at her command but his frustration was showing. "You're not going to turn me down again, are you?"
"I can't do this if you're angry with me."
"What? I am not angry with you."
"You're not?"
"No."
"How do I know you're not just saying that because you want to have sex? I don't want things to be left unresolved."
Dwight rolled to the side and let out a heavy sigh. Angela's body protested the loss of contact but she didn't give herself too much time to think about it. Instead, she propped her head on her elbow as she turned on her side to face him.
"I am serious."
"Why would I be angry with you?" Dwight asked with honesty, trying his best to focus and be rational. His boxers were having a hard time accommodating what they were supposed to but he knew that while Angela didn't get the answers she wanted, they were going nowhere with the lovemaking.
"Well," Angela distractedly played with a loose thread on her pillowcase. "I know I antagonized you a lot today. I have every reason to believe you're not happy with how I ended our previous interactions."
"Your assessment is very accurate."
"And I can't have sex with you if you're angry with me," she admitted, almost apologetically.
"I see," Dwight knew he was dragging out the conversation rather than just reassuring her but it secretly amused him to see she seemed just as sexually frustrated as he was.
"So… that means you are upset?"
"I am not," he said matter-of-factly, hoping it would be enough to convince her.
"Really?"
He narrowed his eyes, looking at her with suspicion.
"Well, you obviously think I am entitled to be. In that case, I suppose you owe me an apology."
Dwight didn't really feel as dignified as he sounded, he was just pestering her because she made it so easy sometimes.
"You should not, and I am not apologizing because I didn't do anything wrong," Angela rolled to her back and faced the ceiling. The bridge of her nose crinkled with indignation. "If you're angry with me because I don't want you giving a knife to Phillip or because I didn't want to have sex in the office, that's your choice, but I am not apologizing for any of it," she finally turned to the other side, facing the wall opposite to him. "If that's how it goes, fine, your call, but I am not having sex with you if we're on bad terms," she added. After what felt like long seconds of silence, Angela added in a low, almost inaudible whisper, "and just so you know, I wasn't turning you down earlier this afternoon. It wasn't about you, it was about the time and the place. I have never rejected you, and I never will."
Her last words resonated in Dwight's mind. He was overwhelmed by a wave of tenderness that was very much unlike him. Her earnest confession was just so sweet and spontaneous that he was caught off guard and didn't know how to properly respond to it.
"Unless, of course, if you think I am angry with you," He corrected her statement and made an effort not to laugh.
"Good night, Dwight."
He was an idiot, Dwight realized. Sometimes, he felt there was something wrong with him because he was just really bad at saying the right things or even being remotely romantic as the situation probably required.
Dwight couldn't see her face, but he could easily guess her lips were pressed together and her eyes were forcefully shut, even though she was awake.
He honestly wasn't angry with her. In as much as she had frustrated him during the day, on both times he understood her points of view. That silly disagreement they were having made no sense. The only reason why he hadn't put an end to it was that Angela's glare was nearly as amusing as her audacity to refuse to apologize for the way she had made him feel, which, according to her logic, he apparently had control over.
But to hear Angela's sweet confession had just completely swept him off his feet.
A lot of people commented on how much his wife had changed in the past couple of years, and while Dwight saw why they would think that, he knew they weren't exactly right.
Angela was indeed more affectionate and patient, and overall happier now, but he knew deep down, that was the person she always had been. Her incapability to show any kind of vulnerability in the past had raised high walls around her, usually to keep others out, and that had made her come off as arrogant and cold through most of her life. While she was indeed a very proud person, Dwight knew that she also had a soft interior under those harder outer layers.
"Monkey," he moved closer and placed a hand on her hip, his chest touching her back. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, "I wasn't upset with you, I promise. I was just being an idiot now," his hand traced a slow path on her body towards her gracious, feminine waist. Dwight kissed her cheek. "Now, can you turn back around, please?" He nuzzled her neck before his teeth settled around the tendon right where her neck joined her shoulder.
His gentle persuasion had the intended effect. Angela was smiling with her eyes closed when she spoke next.
"I'm going to have to think about it."
Dwight noticed she was making an effort to sound serious. Snaking his arm around her, he pulled her closer and nibbled her earlobe.
Angela was wearing one of his grey Schrute Farms T-shirts that looked way too big for her tiny frame. The short sleeves made it past her elbows, and the hem reached all the way to her knees. Dwight buried his face on the curve between her neck and her shoulder, breathing her in. Angela's tight little body exhaled femininity. She had all the right curves in the right places and he could never get tired of looking at her or touching her.
The hand lying on her waist slid down agonizingly slowly and then went back up caressing her naked thigh until it disappeared under the hem of the T-shirt. Earlier that day, Dwight had done the same thing, but a thick layer of fabric separated their bodies. Now he was determined to change that detail.
"We can take this off, you're not going to need it," he hooked his thumb on the waistband of her panties to slide it down her legs. Angela shivered in the semi-darkness of the room. He was kissing her neck and the side of her face while undressing her. Her arm reached out for him behind her shoulder, pulling his face forward as she slightly tilted her head back to meet his lips.
Once her panties were gone, Dwight kneaded the inside of her thigh almost reaching all the way up but never fully going there. The heat of his palms penetrated her skin, shooting jolts of desire all through her system.
Dwight sensed she was getting restless, so it didn't surprise him to hear her command.
"Stop torturing me."
"No," he promptly refuted her, breaking apart just enough to see her closed eyes and flushed skin.
She was naturally unyielding, bossy and controlling, so Dwight loved to tame her, to dominate her, make her surrender to him in the sweetest of ways. The excitement and pleasure were always there for them both.
When he noticed she couldn't take it anymore, he shifted towards the foot of the bed, grabbed the back of her knees with his hands and spread her legs apart, replacing his hands with his lips as he brushed kisses on her smooth skin.
Angela's first instinct was to close her legs but she fought the urge to do so. She could feel his breath hovering over her right where she needed to be touched. The bedsheet got creases where her hands got a grip of it, and when he finally did touch her there with his lips, she gasped and arched her back in response.
"Dwight…"
Her short, frenzied pants seemed to only stimulate him. Angela writhed beneath him, unable to take the familiar sensation that threatened to make her lose control over her own body, to take her spiraling down to that forbidden promised land that was so mind-blowing. The idea of letting go completely both scared and excited her, but somehow Dwight always seemed to push her in that direction, even with all her reservations. It was thrilling, exciting… irresistible.
She didn't know why he was the only one who could do it, and right now she didn't care to find out. All that mattered was that he didn't stop.
Angela had been with three other men all her life, and she'd had sex a total of four times with them.
The first man she'd ever slept with was a guy from her church. She was twenty years old at the time, and he was nearly thirty. Looking back at it now, she felt foolish and idiotic to have believed the feelings and intentions he'd so gallantly professed for months only to easily disregard her after she finally shared a bed with him.
Up until she met Dwight, her first and only experience with sex had been painful and unpleasant. Back then, Angela thought that maybe if she had done it because she actually wanted to and not because she felt pressured, perhaps it might not have been so bad. But now that she knew what it was like to have sex with a man she actually loved, she sincerely doubted she would ever have enjoyed it with her first boyfriend.
She'd remained celibate for many years…And for nearly a decade, it didn't feel like she was making a huge effort to not have sex.
Not until Dwight.
Unlike her first boyfriend, who was a talker, Dwight was a doer. That had caught her attention early on. He hadn't used empty words to try to sell an idea of who he was. His actions spoke for himself. Dwight didn't make any false promises, didn't pretend to be something he wasn't, didn't declare feelings that weren't true. He didn't mislead her on purpose.
When Angela had first met him, she was shocked to see that a lot of people at the office made fun of Dwight for his eccentricity and unconventional personality. Truth was, he intimidated a lot of them. But his conviction and his self-confidence were a huge turn on for Angela. He was a real man, in every sense of the word. Dwight didn't care about how he was perceived… He did what he thought he had to, no questions asked, no satisfactions given. He was loyal, trustworthy, accountable and very capable… It was true that he could be quite harsh and come off as clueless and unfeeling sometimes, but Angela had always, always, been able to count on him.
For anything. And for everything.
Wherever she was concerned, Dwight was considerate, gentle, caring, and he was genuinely interested in improving in any aspect he could to do right by her. It was no wonder she had been attracted to him from the start.
After things hadn't quite worked out with Dwight the first time they were together, there had been Andy twice and the Senator once. Angela regretted sleeping with both guys. The decision to go to bed with them hadn't revolved around wanting them. It had always been about getting back at Dwight or telling herself she was over him when she'd felt hurt and wanted to sabotage their relationship because she was too scared to surrender to her true feelings.
If Angela could go back in time and change what she'd done, she would in a heartbeat. None of those other guys had meant anything to her. None of them had ever made her feel safe, loved and cared for like Dwight did.
And oh, boy, did he make her feel good at times…Like right now.
She could feel the familiar ecstasy gathering on her insides; that delirious, euphoric tingling that started somewhere deep inside her core and exploded in an uninhibited release of control throughout every inch of her body.
Angela's hands left the sheets and found the sides of his head.
Yes, she might have slept with other guys, but her husband was the only one who'd ever been allowed to touch her that way. He was the only one who had actually been able to give her an orgasm, to make her feel like she truly wanted and desired a man.
And after nearly a decade, Angela still wanted him very much.
"Oh, D… Oh! Don't stop now…"
Angela caught her breath when Dwight glazed his tongue over her most sensitive spot. Her fingertips sunk in his scalp, tugging at it to pull him closer. The throaty moans she was letting out fed his hunger and boosted his resolve to take her there, to give her everything she deserved.
And then it happened. She collapsed onto herself and all restrain was gone. Her muscles relaxed, subdued by the wave of euphoria that deprived her of any rational capacity.
And just when Angela felt like it couldn't get any better, Dwight moved over her, his hands gripping her hips as he slowly drove himself inside her. She clasped her legs around his hips to accommodate him better and wrapped her arms around his neck as he deepened his thrust.
Sometimes, she felt like Dwight was too big for her. It had been painful a few times in the beginning but even then she didn't need to say anything because he had immediately noticed her discomfort. The fact that he paid attention and cared enough to ask how he could make it better for her made Angela sure that she could trust him with not only her body, but also with her heart.
Soon enough, pleasure built up and it happened for her again. Dwight waited until she was there to finish inside of her and once it was over, Angela was left out of breath. She remained in silence, trying to steady the rhythm of her heart as Dwight rested between her legs, his head lying on her chest as she idly caressed his back.
She watched him until his breathing was regular again. What felt like an eternity later, Angela finally gathered the energy to turn the lights back on.
"D, did you fall asleep?"
"No, why?" He opened his eyes.
Angela could tell by his voice that he had dozed off but she appreciated his effort to pretend he hadn't.
The accountant opened her mouth to talk and hesitated. They'd had many nights - and sometimes mornings - like that one but for some reason she couldn't quite explain, tonight felt special. Rationally, Angela knew there was no reason to feel that way, so she could imagine how stupid she would sound if she shared her impression.
"Nothing," she stroked his hair out of his eyes, a gentle smile creasing the corner of her lips as she looked down to find his gaze. "Aren't you going to read your book? I could use a shower now, you made me sweat. Can you get up? I can't move."
"Do I have to?" Dwight mumbled. All his muscles were relaxed and he couldn't think of a more accommodating place to rest his head than on his wife's breasts, especially when she affectionally stroked his hair like that.
"D," Angela poked him on the side of his torso and laughed at how ticklish he was, "get up, come on. You're crushing me."
"Liar," Dwight smiled with his eyes closed but obediently rolled over.
She thanked him with a peck on his lips and disappeared into the bathroom. By the time she got back, expecting to find her husband immersed in his reading, Dwight was already sound asleep. He was probably worn out and she couldn't blame him. She felt absolutely relaxed too.
A smile still lingered on her lips when Angela finally turned off the lights, engulfing the room in total darkness before she slipped under the covers and snuggled up next to Dwight.