Slow

My husband kissed me lightly on the lips. “Heading out to the airport, baby,” Kevin whispered. “I’m running late.” I checked the clock — 5 a.m. Ugh. “Make a lot of money, honey,” I replied, struggling to say something coherent. My husband was en route to Dublin for a long business trip. He pulled back the bedsheet to reveal my lingerie; a lace baby doll chemise in deep grey. It was what I had put on several hours earlier, hoping we would have steamy sex. But Kevin had to work late and he said he was too tired to fuck by the time he returned home. He was very apologetic. ...