The Best Night

When my husband Alex and I had first gotten married a little over a year ago, everyone had made a point to tell us that the first two years of marriage would be the hardest. However, they should have taken into account that it wasn’t that way for everyone. Our marriage has been nothing short of spectacular ever since we tied the knot. We hardly ever fought and the sex was great, even thought we both agreed that our bedroom life could be…spiced up a little.

On his way out of the kitchen on Friday morning, he paused next to where I had my hands in the sink, washing the dishes after breakfast. “I have to get to work, but I’ll be home a little early today, around five,” he told me as he pressed a sweet kiss to my cheek.

“Alright, see you then,” I told him with a smile. “Love you.”

“I love you too, Mari,” Alex said, using the nickname he’d called me by ever since we’d met. My real name was Maria, but he liked shorten it so that it was pronounced like ‘Mary’.

Alex grabbed his briefcase before he walked out of the door and moments later I could hear his Dodge truck starting up before pulling out of the driveway. Alex worked for a big construction company on the outskirts of the city. He didn’t actually build the houses and buildings, but he worked in the office, drawing up the blueprints and doing all the mathematical calculations. I was proud of him, not doubt about that, since he’d climbed so far up the latter of success at his work since he’d started there at only eighteen, and now at twenty-three, he was the supervisor over his branch of the company.

When the dishes were all finished up, I dried my hands on a dishtowel and rinsed the sink out before looking around the house. I needed to clean up, badly, since his parents were coming for a visit the next day and his mother usually always had something to criticize me about, whether it was my hair or a speck of dust on the coffee table.

By the time three o’ clock rolled around, I was all finished with cleaning the entire house and I looked around in satisfaction at my efforts. Not bad. Not bad at all. I walked upstairs towards where my and Alex’s room was and went to where the dresser was, and I crouched down, pulling it open by the its little white knobs. Rifling through all of my panties and bras, I finally found what I was looking for. I knew we needed to spice up our sex life a little and I knew that this little outfit would do just the trick.

I straightened up, the piece of lacy, silky fabric clutched in my hand while I shut the bottom drawer of the dresser with my foot. After pulling off all my clothes, I put the article of clothing I’d just pulled from my dresser onto the king sized bed before walking into the master bathroom. That was one upside to having a husband who designed houses – you got a huge custom bedroom and bathroom with a tub that had jets around the walls of it. You could say we were quite well off financially.

I turned on the water and let it be warming up while I pulled my hair down from the tight bun I’d had it in earlier to clean the house. After dipping my fingertips into the water, I felt that it was lukewarm and I stepped into the large, rounded-rectangular bathtub. The water felt soothing against my skin as I sank down onto the ledge about a foot off the floor of the tub, the water coming up to my perky high B-cup breasts. My breasts weren’t big or anything, but they were well proportioned and nicely rounded with quarter sized pink areolas and nipples that stood out proudly as the water made tickling sensations against them.

I couldn’t help but to moan at the feeling as I rested my back against the top of the top, leaving me in a nice reclined position. While I was laying there, soaking up the warm water, I began thinking about what I had planned for that night for Alex. The sexy outfit, candles, wine…it would all be so worth the effort when we made love.

Almost unthinkingly, my fingers slid down my flat, tan stomach to my pussy mound. I was clean shaven, having shaved last night before my shower, and the skin was silky and smooth. My fingers slid down until they came into contact with that sensitive little bundle of nerves at the top of my slit, and I leaned my head back as I moaned quietly. I usually touched myself whenever Alex wasn’t home, or if we just didn’t have time or was too exhausted at the end of the day for sex. Of course, I knew that Alex liked seeing me touch myself too, as he had told me on more than one occasion.