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"Don't worry about it. I'm more interested to know what was in the box. Damn."
"What?"
"You look so good."
Shit, was I blushing?
"You look a little on the crap side but still handsome. How was work?" I asked and got closer to undo his tie. Look at me, the good wife. My effort paid off when his hands slid behind me and squeezed my ass.
"I'm sorry I don't look more presentable for you, love. It's been some long hours since I saw you last."
"You saved a lot of lives, didn't you?"
"Sorry to disappoint, but I only did some consults, ER calls and a shit ton of paperwork. Truth is, because I'm the lead surgeon of the neurology department, I don't operate that often. Usually my surgeries are complicated, long and a few days apart."
"So, you never just jump in your gloves and go."
"Oh, I do. Chicago General is a level one trauma center and sometimes I have to operate immediately, but brain surgery is very, very dangerous. I would prefer to take my time to prep the patient, get to know his history, research the case and have as much imaging of the brain as possible."
I was married to a level one nerd, and I couldn't be happier. I remembered my weak ass impulse control and having this cerebral man, one who took the time to calculate every variable was probably a saving grace for me.
And he had a great dick, thick and veiny.
How was he with me?
"You are a rockstar, papi. Welcome home."
As soon as the words left my lips, I could see a soft glow on his face. His eyes sparkled with joy, and a sense of comfort settled into both of us. I didn’t know why; maybe it was just something I used to say before.
"Where is Chelsea?"
"Sleeping on the couch, why?"
"Good, so I can fuck you on this wall to feel really, really welcomed."
For a second, I believed he was joking, but then I found myself pinned to the wall. Instantly, I welcomed the rough move. He learned fast.
With surgical precision and impressive speed, he dragged my lingerie to the side, grinding his erection on my already swollen and damp lips, and the pleasure shocks his movements sent through my body were electrifying.
"You worked up an appetite, papi. Was it someone at work that made you all hot and bothered?"
"No."
A good answer deserved a prize, so I unzipped his pants and got his heavy dick out. The skin felt velvety and heated in my hand. I had to fight off the impulse to go down on my knees. It was not the time yet.
"There was no other woman that caught your eye."
"Of course not."
Another good answer, so I gave him another stroke.
"Then why, papi? Why come home with a hard-on? Tell me what made your blood pump." While I spoke, I made sure to torture him with the slow movement of my hand.
"Fuck, it was you, Rita. I spent the last three hours of my shift remembering your smell and your taste. I couldn't wait to come back."
Doctor, you just hit the Jackpot.
Smiling like a feline who discovered a pot of cream, I let my body glide down the wall until I faced that beast of a penis that made my nights so enjoyable.
