Thank You, Sir

“Paris,” I moan, “Venice. Bora Bora. God, Lucas you’re too good to me.”

Lucas has me on my back. My legs are wrapped around him and he’s grunting into my neck, his hands on my waist holding me still as he pumps himself into me.

It feels so good to be taken by him. The reassurance of his strength and his masculine musk. The scraggly brush of his beard on my skin, making every thrust of his a full body experience for me.

I can feel him stretching me out and pushing me to my limits. Just like he does every single time.

Just as he always has.

“You’re worth it,” he moans into my neck, “You’re worth every penny.”

Lucas pulls back and his hands run up my body, over my clothes. His ruse of keeping me at arm's length vanished the moment I squealed and leapt into his arms. Then we were a confusion of hands and lips and eager attentions as we tumbled into bed and took off the absolute minimum amount of clothing before he could get inside of me.

And it felt so good to have him inside of me.

He presses his lips into mine and mine part with a moan and his tongue slips forward eager for attention. I suckle on it like it’s giving me life, feeling the nimble eagerness of it as his hands hold me faster and every brush of his body against mine tells me how much he needs and wants and loves me.

Life with Lucas has been so near perfect that I can almost forget the things I had to give up. But it’s in moments like this when our bodies come together so eagerly that I remember the agreement we had, the discussion that ought to have been hard but that I agreed to so readily.

Because I’d never wanted children. I’d never dreamed of being a mother. Hell I’d barely even thought of being a wife but now I was that but would never be anything else.

Lucas wasn’t old but he was older and he’d made the choice a long time ago to not bring children into this world. Too much time investment and too much difficulty with it and he didn’t want it and didn’t need to excuse it, but he needed a partner who would accept it and I had, but god I wasn’t thinking.

Funny how it’s only in the moment where the possibility is taken away from you that you start to ask yourself what if.

“I love you,” he says, his attentions so sweet and so undividedly on me and I sigh and I pull him in and I crush my lips against his so I don’t have to lie.

I wrap my legs tighter around him and squeeze the walls of my sex around his thickness, feeling him pulse deep with desire in me and beg me for more. My hands find his shoulders and dig in hard and I dream of the places we’ll go and the things we’ll see. When he’s inside of me I think of Paris and Venice and Bora Bora and the trip that will take us around the globe for my birthday and I try not to tell myself that I’ve seen it all before.

I’ve been to all those places and I’ve done all there is to do there and I shared it all with the man that I swore I loved, that I swore myself to, and thought that it would be enough. I thought that it would be enough, that he would be enough for me.

Because I’m enough for him.

“I’m close,” he says, guttural with his lips brushing against my lips.

I caress the side of his face and I nod, whispering to him, “Inside of me. I want to feel it inside of me.”

My eyes light up with a passion that he doesn’t notice and I give the littlest hope that this time will be different. I know there are chemicals in me that keep it from happening and that there was a snip in him. We’ve been so careful and the chance is so minimal but still it’s there and I want it and I need it and I wrap my legs tight and wish for the one birthday present that he’ll never give me.

I’m in my mid-thirties and time is running out and he’s not old but he’s getting older and one day I’ll be alone in this house and have only my memories of him and the regret of lost time. I want more time. I want… I want…

Lucas groans my legs tighten around him and he pulls back, roaring as he breaks free. He escapes me a moment before he erupts and, shuddering, his seed falls wasted on the sheets of our marital bed.

I smile as I watch him breath heavy and I reach for him, beckoning him to me.

I love him. I lie.

I am happy with him.

But it’s not enough.

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