'Like the first time'.
Title Like the first time
Fandom DC Comics
Rating mature
Pairing not too difficult to figure out
Notes for the miscommunication challenge, took 20 minutes.
You have married a woman who is intelligent and beautiful. Your former best friend's wedding present to you is an all-expenses paid trip to an island that does not, officially, exist. His wedding present to your wife came in a box made of lead. The box sits comfortably in her hand, as if it was made to measure. She's on the edge of the bed, her right leg pulled up to her chest. She's wearing red lace and satin. She's much smaller than you; compact, strong. You are leaning against the locked door. You are naked.
Your wife - your wife - slides the box between her fingers and thumb, shakes it a little. Something rattles faintly inside. She is not surprised.
'I'm not - we're not going to ___', she tells you. The subject is not up for discussion.
'All right,' you reply.
'I love you,' she tells you.
'I love you,' you reply. You are sweating. She strokes the ball of her raised knee and her hair falls like a blade over her eyes. She pushes it away.
'I love you,' she says, looking at you.
'I trust you,' you say. This is the correct answer. She opens the box and you kneel before her. She slips the ring on her finger and you bow your head. She lowers her right leg, drags the curve of it past your mouth. You are moaning, the sound fills the room. When she caresses your chest, it feels like the first time. She pauses to pinch a nipple and you cry out. It feels like the first time.
I switch off the video feed and lean back in my chair. The next morning I receive a thank-you note via airmail from your wife. There is a photograph attached. I burn it.
Fandom DC Comics
Rating mature
Pairing not too difficult to figure out
Notes for the miscommunication challenge, took 20 minutes.
You have married a woman who is intelligent and beautiful. Your former best friend's wedding present to you is an all-expenses paid trip to an island that does not, officially, exist. His wedding present to your wife came in a box made of lead. The box sits comfortably in her hand, as if it was made to measure. She's on the edge of the bed, her right leg pulled up to her chest. She's wearing red lace and satin. She's much smaller than you; compact, strong. You are leaning against the locked door. You are naked.
Your wife - your wife - slides the box between her fingers and thumb, shakes it a little. Something rattles faintly inside. She is not surprised.
'I'm not - we're not going to ___', she tells you. The subject is not up for discussion.
'All right,' you reply.
'I love you,' she tells you.
'I love you,' you reply. You are sweating. She strokes the ball of her raised knee and her hair falls like a blade over her eyes. She pushes it away.
'I love you,' she says, looking at you.
'I trust you,' you say. This is the correct answer. She opens the box and you kneel before her. She slips the ring on her finger and you bow your head. She lowers her right leg, drags the curve of it past your mouth. You are moaning, the sound fills the room. When she caresses your chest, it feels like the first time. She pauses to pinch a nipple and you cry out. It feels like the first time.
I switch off the video feed and lean back in my chair. The next morning I receive a thank-you note via airmail from your wife. There is a photograph attached. I burn it.