Rose and Ichiro have a commuter relationship, causing them to be apart a
good deal of the time. At the time of the events, it has been a couple
of months since they’ve been together. This story is told from both
points of view, interweaving them. It begins with Rose and alternates
with Ichiro at the breaks.

****************************

It’s the night before Ichiro’s birthday. Unbeknownst to him, I have
arranged to take the week off. I have driven home and left the truck
parked out of sight. He’s out when I get there, around dusk. Perfect. I
grab a small bag, lock the truck, walk to the house and let myself in. I
step into the bathroom and leave my black silk hair bow laying on the
sink. I shake out my long, dark hair, check the mirror, smile, and head
upstairs. I close the blinds and light the oil lamp, turning it down
low. I hang my coat in the closet.

I’m wearing a royal blue dress, made of soft knit fabric, with black
heels and black stockings. The neck has a sweetheart line which plunges
rather low, so I have a rhinestone brooch in it, which I now remove. I
smooth the bed and fold the covers at the bottom. I run a hand through
my hair, which is curled and wavy, with nothing tying it down. I have a
very narrow black velvet ribbon round my neck. The dress itself is
simple; sleeves puffed on top, fitted just below the elbow where they
stop, bodice fitt ed, very full skirt that hangs to mid-calf. A matching
silk scarf is tied round my waist, with a bow in back. I take a deep
breath and smile.

Suddenly, I hear his truck pull up outside. After a pause, the truck
door closes. After a longer pause, I hear his key in the door. I can
tell he’s very tired as the door swings shut. I hear him enter the
bathroom. I hear him pick up the bow. I hear him come out. His steps on
the stairs sound a little less tired and a lot more puzzled. I turn up
the lamp a bit just before he enters the room. As he enters, I’m
standing in the middle of the floor, still dressed. I pull a single red
rose from behind my back as he enters and stops in the door. “Happy
birthday, husband,” I coo, with a smile.

—————————–

One more minute and I would have slept on the road, I think to myself as
I fumble with the keys in the door. What I need is a good massage, I
think, maybe some fun…but I guess I’ll just read a book instead. A
sulky grin passes over my face as I stumble to the bathroom for one last
check before bedtime.

I use the toilet, move over to wash my hands…what is this? I pick up a
familiar black bow. Hmm? I could have sworn I put all of Rose’s things
away upstairs. I slowly make my way to the stairs pondering the bow and
taking off my sweaty shirt. I open the door to see light coming through
and Rose in a…well, not that I noticed the dress of the flower.

I drop everything to hold her, to feel her warmth, to know that she is
really here. She squeezes a shoulder only to hear a stifled whimper.

“What have you been doing to yourself?” she asks. “Looks like I came
back just in time.”

I’m about to protest, thinking of only holding her a while longer, but
she is already ordering me to the bed and helping me off with my pants
before I get a chance. ‘Does it matter?’ I ask myself. Her hands soaking
the tension out of my back replies for me. Her kiss to the small of my
back sends shivers of delight up and down my spine. I don’t know what
she is doing back there, but I can tell I’m going to enjoy this evening.
And I suddenly don’t feel as tired anymore…

—————————–

As my hands make contact with his back, I feel tension pouring in almost
faster than I can deal with it. This man needs help first, I think. I
slide the rose into the vase I’d prepared, half expecting this, and
order him into bed as I remove his pants and boots and socks. He flops
down in his underwear. I quickly untie the bow, unzip the dress, and
drop them. Then I kneel on the bed and kiss his back. We shudder
simultaneously, he from excitement, me ’cause I felt the tension .

Straddling his back with my stockinged legs, I reach for the rose oil,
stop, change my mind, and start to get up. He starts to protest and I
tell him not to move. I pull a small plastic bottle out of my bag. I
drop something on the floor, return to him, straddling him once again.

I pour a bit into my hand, warm it up, and start to rub it in. He
realizes it is massage oil by my actions, though it smells like vanilla.
I rub over his entire back and neck with it, stopping occasionally to
kiss here or there. I hear a moan each time I kiss him. I’m noticing
that as the stress drains out, it’s being replaced with another kind of
tension. I grin to myself as I finish and slip back a ways.

I feel him start to turn and push him back. I place my hands on his
thighs, lean down and tease his buttocks with my tongue, playing across
the top and pushing between. I hear him moan and feel him moving under
me, half wanting to turn over and half wanting more of what he’s
getting. I work up to his back. A few licks here, a few bites there. I
can feel him getting hot, still in the same dilemma of whether it’s
better to stay or roll over. Sensing this, I decide to keep it kind of
short.

Moving up, I run my hands up his sides and out onto his arms as I feel
him shudder and hear him moan. I kiss the back of his neck, first very
softly then harder, finally turning into nibbles spilling over onto his
shoulders and down his neck. I feel him try to turn to catch my mouth
and teasingly kiss the corner of his mouth before moving to the other
side. I hear him mumble something that sounds vaguely like begging. That
finishes melting me and I drop down to lie on his back.

A load moan escapes him, he tips to one side and I slide off. Quicker
than I realize what’s happening, he rolls over on me, and we’re face to
face. He mutters something about beauty and kisses me, first hard with
desire, then tender with love. ‘It’s going to be a long and delicious
night,’ I think.

—————————–

I taste her lips and sexy tongue. I lay down on her, feeling her warmth.
Her skin is hot. Her lips are sweet. I start licking her neck, nibbling.
Her skin is sweet too. My lucky night. Hers too as I indulge in the
sweetness of her skin, slowly moving down and sucking her hard nipples.
She gasps. I nibble under her quivering breasts. As I make my way down
to her bellybutton, I turn around, not knowing how much longer I can
last.

She responds, fondling me, kissing my stomach and greeting me to her
lips as I sink my tongue into her.