Good morning lovers and friends!
Happy Friday! This weekend through the 28th you can grab The Fantasy free of charge! Jennifer and Charles have been married for over fourteen years, they're still in love, but they're lost something. That spark? Maybe. Maybe something more... can The Fantasy rekindle their flame? Find out and enjoy in this erotic short story!
I turned my attention back to Charles, he was rushing about the kitchen, getting his cell phone and other various electronic devices gathered up for the day. He stopped suddenly and turned to look at me.
“So we’re meeting at eight tonight then?” He asked as he put his jacket on.
I nodded and slipped off the breakfast barstool and picked up his briefcase. I handed it to him and kissed the corner of his mouth softly.
“Thank you.” He said, running his knuckles down my cheek ever so briefly before turning and inspecting his image in the mirror beside the front door.
“Have a good day.” I said as he opened the front door.
“I will.” He said, “See you at eight.” He kissed my forehead again, and I closed and locked the door behind him.
I don’t really know when this distance between us formed. We still loved each other, were devoted to one another, we even had sex three or four times a week still. But there was a routine feel to it, as if we were simply going through the motions of life, in a perpetual re-peat, instead of living it day by day. Charles and I had met in college, we got married after only a year of being together and less than six months after that, we were pregnant with Tiffany. Neither of us had wanted any more children, and I had stayed home taking care of Tiffany while Charles worked at his father’s firm. I devoted all of my time to keeping the house clean, and taking care of Tiffany. I always had dinner on the table at five thirty in the evening, about a half hour after Charles got home from work, and I made sure that I went down on him at least once every three months, simply because I knew how much he loved it.
There was a time when Charles and I were more passionate about life. There was a time when I would dream all day long while I folded laundry or while I cleaned the bathroom, about having him inside me the night before. I’d be so over worked by the time he’d come home from work that I’d tear his clothes off before he even hung his keys up. It wasn’t that we’d let ourselves go over the years, we were still very attracted to one another, but something was gone.
The spice? What was it? That feeling of not knowing exactly where your partner is going to place his hand… or the uncertainty of the power of his thrusts and trusting him with your body anyway; that feeling had slowly crept out of our bedroom over the years and although it was peeking in on us each night when we made love, I never invited it back in. I sensed that Charles felt this loss within me, for shortly after I began feeling this way, it seemed as if he began to drift further from me, and eventually we were just at arms distance, and that was how we’d stayed. For the last five years.
The phone rang bringing me out of my thoughts and I set my cup of tea down on the counter, I glanced at the clock as I lifted the phone from the receiver; almost noon.