More Than Us
Year eight, we tried two rounds of IVF. When that also yielded no results, I could see her eyes as they moved somewhere, I couldn’t reach her, no matter how hard I tried. Here we are at year ten and I feel as if I am back to being single. Pulling my suitcase out of the car, I slowly walk to the front door, knowing that when I go inside nothing is going to have changed.
Walking into the door, I see that as usual the house is clean, like no one lives in it. There is no dinner on the stove, no tv on, no music... nothing. I slam my suitcase down, hoping but knowing it won’t provoke a reaction, and I sigh. What the hell can I do? The Cord I know wouldn’t accept defeat.
I repeat those words in my mind, letting the wisdom from my best friend Dun sink in. I look at the home we built, putting together very strategically, every single detail, knowing we were going to fill it with love, laughter and a ton of kids. Grow old together and live a life you see in movies, knowing we found our soulmate. My heart aches for the young idealistic adults that believed as long as we followed a carefully laid path, everything would turn out as we planned. Now we know, life hardly does.
“Fuck it.” I say with a renewed sense of vigor. I miss my damn wife and no matter what I have to do, I am going to fix this...fix us. I take the stairs two at a time, walking into the sunroom, knowing she is going to be sitting on the settee overlooking the garden. I don’t bother with the pomp and circumstance. Somebody needs to take the bull by the horn and apparently, it needs to be me. “Get up and get dressed, Philli.” I call her by the nickname I gave her our wedding night when she rode my cock like a Frey born Philly straight out the gate. God she was so beautiful. Her raven colored hair was longer back then. She rode me after I broke her in that night, her hair falling behind her waving back and forth as I sucked on her plump, pink nipples. She had the perfect tits. They were round, like melons, pink like ripe grapefruit. I plucked them, my fingers twisting and pulling them as she bounced on and off my cock, moaning and licking her lips as she chanted my name over and over. I saw the first wild stallion in her coming out. My cock was hard as a rock, trying to hold on, to give her a chance to feel for the first time. But fuck was it difficult. Especially when she started sinking herself lower, pulling me deeper into her, trying so hard to rub her clit against me, reaching for her peak.
Knowing what she was searching for, I began to rub her clit and watched in amazement as she began to buck and mewl, her body going wild with pleasure as I held off as long as I could, making sure her first time was everything she thought it was going to be. When her mouth opened and she screamed, her naked pale body shaking and covered in the remnants of her hard work, I flipped her over and took what I needed from her. The end of the night, it was the first time I called her ‘Philli’ and every time after that, she would blush, and her chest would begin breathing so hard her nipples would tease me. So tonight, I take my Philli back, one way or another.
She looks up at me, shock mirroring her face, since this is the first time in years, I have ever addressed her like that. “Thirty minutes baby and then I'm going to dress you myself and you know how I love to do that.” I wink at her, smirking, seeing the red tint her cheeks even now.
“Cord what….”
“Down to twenty-nine minutes baby.'' I tell her removing my suit right in front of her, showing her how serious I am. She must pick up on it, because the next thing I know, she is up out of her favorite spot, looking at me out the side of her eye. I walk in the ensuite while she is in the shower and change into a pair of khakis and a button up shirt. I remember she told me once she loved me in suites, but in casual clothes, she said, I looked relaxed and sexy. By the time I am dressed, I find myself pacing back and forth, my stomach-churning thinking of a backup plan in case she plays me. I hear the door open, and stumble back a bit. God, she gets more beautiful every day. She is standing in a pair of the jeans I bought her, because I loved the way they molded her pear-shaped waist and bottom. Her ankle boot stilettos give her a few more inches, making it easier for me to attack her luscious mouth.