I finally lowered him down and kissed the bite marks on his neck and back, and lay on top of him, trying to keep my weight off him, but cover him at the same time.
Brian is his own worst enemy. He always has to be so contradictory...and you captured this beautifully from the sex to that line.
I love the imagery you're creating with the Christmas lights and the lights reflected in their rings. You mention it several times and it's clever because it immediately reminds me of the prior references. The lights by Justin...the lights by Brian...the reflection of the rings by Brian...the lights again by Justin adn then the rings again by Justin and then the final paragraph. ;)
This is why our marriage works...you keep me thinking. I love that.
Justin got up and came over to me. “That’s why you’re supposed to have your loved ones hovering nearby, to entertain you while you wait.”
Yeah Brian - ya big doofus!
I brushed the open box off the desk, onto the floor. “It’s being understanding, that’s what makes you the wife.”
Justin had watched me swat the rings onto the floor, and his jaw tightened. “Stop it, Brian.”
Ouch...
He sat down heavily on the sofa next to me, looking at his ring, and then at the fire. “I don’t understand that.”
“I know.”
He snorted. “God, I fucking hate it when you say that.”
I shrugged. “Get over it.”
He looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “Decided to try being a little less understanding?”
“Stop. Just stop.” I got up. I was absolutely not going to listen to this again.
Brian grabbed my left hand, and pulled me around to face him. “I’ll stop.”
I sat down and looked at him. “I don’t just mean now. This has to stop.”
He nodded. “I know.”
I laughed, and after a second, so did he, and pushed his hand through his hair again. He looked sideways at me, and bit his lip.
Hmmmmmmm
“Because it’s all your romantic bullshit, Brian. You bought this house, you bought this fireplace, you bought the fucking firewood. You bought the Christmas tree, and the lights, and you bought these fucking rings. I never asked you for any of this. Never.”
He turned his head, and his eyes looked hurt, but I just stood up, and picked up his ring from the table. “You can tell me it’s all bullshit if you want. You can throw our rings on the floor and tell me to fuck off. Go ahead.” I started to pull my ring off, his still in my palm, and Brian grabbed my hand and stood up. He didn’t let go of my hand, just pulled it up and shoved my ring back down on my finger.
“Don’t.” He had his forehead pressed against mine, and his hand was clenching so hard on mine it hurt.
I felt tears burn in my eyes again. “Why, Brian? Why shouldn’t I? You did.”
He shook his head, and dug his ring out of my palm, and pushed it hard on the finger of his left hand. “Don’t.”
awwwwww...you = queen of the romantical love.
Excellent job my darling wife - can I have the next chapter now please?
no subject
I finally lowered him down and kissed the bite marks on his neck and back, and lay on top of him, trying to keep my weight off him, but cover him at the same time.
Brian is his own worst enemy. He always has to be so contradictory...and you captured this beautifully from the sex to that line.
I love the imagery you're creating with the Christmas lights and the lights reflected in their rings. You mention it several times and it's clever because it immediately reminds me of the prior references. The lights by Justin...the lights by Brian...the reflection of the rings by Brian...the lights again by Justin adn then the rings again by Justin and then the final paragraph. ;)
This is why our marriage works...you keep me thinking. I love that.
Justin got up and came over to me. “That’s why you’re supposed to have your loved ones hovering nearby, to entertain you while you wait.”
Yeah Brian - ya big doofus!
I brushed the open box off the desk, onto the floor. “It’s being understanding, that’s what makes you the wife.”
Justin had watched me swat the rings onto the floor, and his jaw tightened. “Stop it, Brian.”
Ouch...
He sat down heavily on the sofa next to me, looking at his ring, and then at the fire. “I don’t understand that.”
“I know.”
He snorted. “God, I fucking hate it when you say that.”
I shrugged. “Get over it.”
He looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “Decided to try being a little less understanding?”
“Stop. Just stop.” I got up. I was absolutely not going to listen to this again.
Brian grabbed my left hand, and pulled me around to face him. “I’ll stop.”
I sat down and looked at him. “I don’t just mean now. This has to stop.”
He nodded. “I know.”
I laughed, and after a second, so did he, and pushed his hand through his hair again. He looked sideways at me, and bit his lip.
Hmmmmmmm
“Because it’s all your romantic bullshit, Brian. You bought this house, you bought this fireplace, you bought the fucking firewood. You bought the Christmas tree, and the lights, and you bought these fucking rings. I never asked you for any of this. Never.”
He turned his head, and his eyes looked hurt, but I just stood up, and picked up his ring from the table. “You can tell me it’s all bullshit if you want. You can throw our rings on the floor and tell me to fuck off. Go ahead.” I started to pull my ring off, his still in my palm, and Brian grabbed my hand and stood up. He didn’t let go of my hand, just pulled it up and shoved my ring back down on my finger.
“Don’t.” He had his forehead pressed against mine, and his hand was clenching so hard on mine it hurt.
I felt tears burn in my eyes again. “Why, Brian? Why shouldn’t I? You did.”
He shook his head, and dug his ring out of my palm, and pushed it hard on the finger of his left hand. “Don’t.”
awwwwww...you = queen of the romantical love.
Excellent job my darling wife - can I have the next chapter now please?