Just a Tiff

She was running errands on a Saturday afternoon. He was busy working so she wasn't particularly worried about watching the time. She told him she would likely make something for dinner as he didn't know what time he would be finished. He didn't think he would feel like going out again.

He had left early, before she had gotten out of bed. He left a soft kiss on her forehead and she mumbled something inaudible as he called out see you later over his shoulder as he walked out of the bedroom. She rose a bit later and showered and left to go about her errands. She had her nails done, did some shopping and stopped to get a few groceries before returning. She had run into a few friends and stopped to talk for a bit. Nothing lengthy, but while it was pleasant to see them, it had detained her enough to put her arrival at the grocery store at a crucial, and busy, time of day. She had planned on being home around 3 and it was now 4:45.

When she pulled into the driveway, his truck was already there. She was pleasantly surprised, and smiled as she gathered the evidence of her busy day and went into the house. He was on the couch watching TV. She smiled and said hello as she struggled to get all the things to the counter and not drop anything. She was tired and a bit cranky. She was glad to be home.

"Where have you been so long?" He shouted to her from his spot on the couch.

"The store was really busy; Saturday afternoon you know." She called back as she unloaded the bags. The next thing she knew, he was next to her in the kitchen.

"All this shit and you didn't bring home dinner?" he said sarcastically.

"I'll make dinner, what would you like?" She said calmly, but she wasn't certain she liked the way he was talking to her. If he only knew what a day she had had…

"I would like some dinner on the table. I'm hungry." He said.

She looked at him and he had a deep scowl on his face. She was a bit surprised; he didn't usually speak so seriously to her, but she attributed it to he must have had a bad day as well. She went to the freezer and removed a couple of pieces of chicken, and placed them in a bowl in the sink. She then turned on the faucet to thaw them.

"Do you mean to tell me that I have to wait for that chicken to thaw and then you have to try and make something out of it?" He growled at her and shook his head.

"What do you mean try? What time did you get home? I thought you were going to be late tonight." Her mind was racing, she had every intention of making a nice dinner for him and helping him to relax all evening, but the day didn't end up like she had planned.

"Why don't you go ahead and watch TV for a bit, I'll take care of this." She said; trying to keep cool despite her edginess.

He pulled a beer from the refrigerator and leaned against the counter.

"So what do you think you can do with that chicken to feed me before I pass out from starvation? The usual? Or something good?" He said sarcastically, obviously goading her. She turned to look at him, expecting to see a smirk on his face, maybe a wink, and then hopefully a hug and kiss because he was happy to see her. Instead, he had raised eyebrows and a frown. He was serious.

"Are you implying that I can't cook?" she said to him, with a sharp tone to her voice, hands on her hips.

"I'm not implying anything. I'm fucking hungry!" He shouted at her. He expected that she would have backed down. He hadn't intended his voice to sound quite so shrill, but it had. Instead, her eyes became slits for a moment as she stood there and contemplated what she would say next. Her chest was heaving; maybe she would start to cry.

"Look. I had a hellish day. I will make dinner. I'm sorry I wasn't home, but now I am. Don't start with me, okay?" she said in a calm voice and turned to get a pan from the cabinet.

"I don't care about what kind of rough time you had getting your nails done and shopping. I worked hard and I want some dinner; NOW!" He shouted again, a bit set off by her lack of intimidation. Besides, a hunger for more than just food was gnawing at him now; brought on by the defiance in her mannerism. He intended to see where it would go.

Her eyebrows rose, and she smiled sarcastically and threw the chicken in the garbage. "Then I guess you better start stepping sweetheart because I'm not cooking dinner for someone who acts like a jerk." She said and whirled to leave the room.

"Where do you think you're going you little bitch? Don't you walk away from me!" he growled at her. She kept walking and slammed the bedroom door. He followed her, opened the door wide, and moved towards her in long strides. "Just what exactly is your problem?" he shouted at her.

"I don't' have a problem. I was going to make you dinner but you keep giving me shit, so forget it. A person who wants someone to be nice to them needs to show a little respect and appreciation." She spat at him.

Pure defiance! That's what she had. She was starting to piss him off. He wanted dinner. She sat on the bed, arms folded, like a defiant child, and she wouldn't even look at him. If she did, she glared into his eyes, as though daring him.

"You need to remember your place slut…" he said in a low but stern voice.

"I do huh…" she said in a smug voice. "What exactly IS my place?"

"You need to watch your tone of voice. Especially when you are talking to me." he said; his voice strong and tight.

"Whatever. I'll take that into consideration." she said with the same smug attitude, arms still folded.

Her attitude was unsettling to him. He did like defiance at times, but he wasn't in the mood for it right now. He wanted her to be playful, devoting. He didn't want to spend the evening arguing with her, nor being ignored by her.

"I guess you need a lesson in obedience…" he said in a low voice, as he reached for her ankle. She shifted her leg and was then out of reach. He reached for her again and she moved, then got off the bed and proceeded to leave the room. He grabbed her wrist but she twisted her arm, to break free.

The struggle continued. He grabbed at her and she twisted and moved, causing his motions to become more and more aggressive, in attempt to capture her. He could tell by the look in her eyes she was serious. She wasn't having any part of it. To top things off, he found the struggle quite amusing and managed to chuckle. It only made her more agitated and she struggled all the more. Her only downfall was he was just a bit quicker than she was and when he had the opportunity to get a good grip on her, he did. He grabbed her, twisted her arms behind her back and threw her on the bed. So much so, he knew he knocked the wind out of her. Damn! She was strong!

His aggression had grown as a result of the struggling as did his reflexes, and he quickly draped his weight over her so she couldn't move. He tied her hands together with his belt, and sat on her belly. She bucked and kicked and yelled, trying to be free, but he was relentless. He pulled her shirt up and reached under her to unhook her bra, then lifted it, exposing her breasts. Her nipples were hard, and he pinched both of them, hard. She yelped from the pain and demanded that he let her go, immediately. He laughed at her. She was furious. She continued to buck and struggle, but her hands were bound, so her actions were limited. He unbuttoned her shorts and began to pull them from her. She was yelling and squirming and frankly, wearing him out from the fighting back she was doing. He slapped her breasts hard, and then he placed his knee on her chest as he removed her shorts, and then ripped her panties from her.

She continued to struggle, still yelling, when she could, as she was out of breath from the wrestling around and simply being frustrated. His eyes searched the room, his mind racing as to what he could tie her legs with, and he found one of her belts and a sash from her robe. He quickly tied her legs, and then sat on her chest once more. He had his hands on his thighs, and he smiled at her, a wide evil grin.

"GET OFF ME!" She yelled at him. Fire in her eyes… His response was a slap to her breasts, so hard that it hurt his hand. He slapped her again, twice. It stopped her from yelling and struggling. It must have smarted so much it took her breath away.

"Don't ever forget just whose bitch you are!" he shouted at her, his hands on either side of her head, his face inches from hers. Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn't break his glare. His heart was pounding in his ears. He had so much aggression running through him his hands were shaking. He wanted to take her, pound the defiance from her, claim his prize. Something told him in the back of his mind that he would likely hurt her for real.

He backed up a bit and looked at her. He still didn't like the defiant gaze she carried and he reached forward and grabbed the swollen bud of her clit and pinched, hard. She wanted to scream from how much it hurt, but only whimpered instead. His aggressive side wanted to hear her scream, so he did it all the harder. Huge droplets of tears seeped from the corners of her eyes and rolled down her temples. He rose from the bed.

"I'm gonna go get some dinner. I'll be back later." He spat over his shoulder and left the room.

"Please don't leave me here…" she sobbed out to him, but he didn't hear her. He was already gone.

By the time he got to the take out place 10 minutes later, he had calmed down quite a bit. He went inside and ordered dinner for them both and sat at the bar to have a beer. He thought about what must be going through her head. He wondered what her demeanor would be like when he returned. The evening definitely hadn't turned out to be what he would have ever expected, and when he thought about that part of it, he became angry all over again. He had another beer. Just as he was finishing it, the food arrived.

He went outside and got into his truck. As he left the parking lot, a couple of cars near him had a near miss. Suddenly the thought occurred to him. What if something happened to him while he was out? What if something happened to her at home? He had left her, immobilized, vulnerable, and alone. It was pretty irresponsible for him to do that. He hadn't done it before, and judging by how bad it made him feel at the moment, he vowed to not do it again.

He looked at the clock when he arrived home. All told he had been gone 45 minutes. It must have been an eternity to her. It was starting to get dark. He braced himself for the worst and went inside. He started the oven, took the plastic covers from the metal containers and covered them with foil. He put them in the oven to keep warm and headed to the bedroom. It was quiet.

He peered around the corner to look at her. She was laying quietly, her head turned to the side. Her body shook every few moments, as a result of crying so hard, and between times, she was trembling. She was exposed, she must have gotten cold.

He walked over to the side of the bed and sat next to her. Her eyes were red and swollen. She looked like a frightened child. He placed his fingers gently against her cheek and she turned her head towards him. Her face seemed to mold to the cradling of his hand. More big drops seeped from her eyes as she looked at him soulfully.

"Please Sir; Please untie me…" she said softly.

He untied her ankles first; the tight restraints left deep red marks on her soft skin, evidence of the struggling and the intensity in which he had tied them in the first place. She moved her legs slowly, no doubt sore from being in that position for so long. She was still trembling, incredibly so. Her skin was cool to the touch. He untied her hands and braced himself for another onslaught of defiance.

She climbed on top of his lap, facing him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He body seemed to be glued to his, and he pulled the comforter around her, in attempt to warm her. He placed his hand against the back of her head, breathing in the softness of her perfume, and the sweet scent of her hair. With his other hand, he placed his fingers gently on the back of her neck, and caressed her spine in smooth strokes. She squeezed to him even tighter, and her trembling seemed to subside. He glanced over her shoulder and caught the sight of the two of them in the mirror. He loved the sight of her pressed so tightly to him.

He lifted her and turned, to lay her gently back on the expanse of the bed. He straddled her, and looked deeply into her eyes, for the first time since he had returned home. Instead of defiance, anger or resentment, he saw warmth, need, and desire. Her fingers were soft against his mouth, his cheek and then the back of his head and she lifted off the bed and kissed him. She kissed him so deeply it took his breath away. With one hand, he held the back of her neck, near the cleft of her shoulder blades, and her hands fervently tugged at the bottom of his shirt, pulling it from his jeans. She pulled it over his head and then tugged at the button and zipper of his jeans.

It was as though she couldn't undress him fast enough. Once he was as naked as she, he lay on top of her. She caressed his back, his spine, raking her nails gently up and down in soothing, loving strokes. He returned her kisses just as intensely and held her close. She reached down and wrapped her hand around his rigid cock and stroked him. He slid his tongue into her mouth slowly and she welcomed it, sucked it, and his cock lurched when her little whimper mewed in her throat. He pulled back once again to find her eyes burning for him, hungry for him, and he was all to happy to fulfill her. "Show me pet, show me…" he whispered to her, purring against her soft mouth.

Her fingers glided over his skin gently and it set him on fire. She touched him as though he were fragile, and if she pressed too hard he would break. He was intoxicated with the feel of it. All the time her eyes locked with his; her eyes a little startled, fascinated, like she was seeing and touching him for the first time. He could feel how much she searched his eyes, sought his reaction, coaxing his pleasure from him. He felt as though he could see the depths of her soul in her eyes at that moment. He could see that every thing she was, everything she had, was exposed and offered to him… please want me…please take me….I'm yours…

He touched her cheek, caressing her throat and chest lightly with his fingers and her body warmed to him like a flower in the sun. He settled on top of her and cradled her head between his hands. He kissed her soft mouth with little nibbling caresses. He could feel her heart fluttering under his. He rose to straddle her once again, her legs spread wide. He bent to suckle a hard nipple as his fingers slid slowly between her ribs. She arched her back, straining for more. He barely touched her mound yet she groaned when she felt the heat of his hand near her intimate flesh. His cock was so hard it hurt, yet, he wasn't finished with her. He wanted to take her further before he had her.

His fingers traced her swollen labia and she flinched a little, as though startled. He realized her senses were at such an elevated state, the slightest of touch was extremely intensified. He traced her inner thighs, her hip bones; he watched her twitch and shake under his touch. He watched her back arch, her head back, her fists wound into the bedding; near sobbing with her ache for him.

He told her to open her eyes and look at him, and she did. It was his undoing. She looked at him through dreamy lids and sat up once again. It was her turn to straddle him. She sat on him, his lap, with her knees bent and close to her. Her fingers in his hair, raking the flesh on his back, the back of his head, his spine, even his arms and hands, made him tingle all over. He couldn't get enough of her touch. She was perceptive of every breath he took, every movement, even the way he swallowed; absorbing it, craving it, feeding from it, and it only fueled her need further.

She kissed him once again, and it felt as though it went through him entirely. The feeling radiated outwards, warming him; and he had never felt any sensation so deeply. He could feel her hot wet sex near his and his cock lurched hard in response to it. His cock was so hard, it hurt. It felt like it would explode. Her mouth tasted his, sucking his lips, milking his tongue, and he felt as though she was slowly eating him alive. His pulse was racing through him so intensely, it made his ears ring, and he grabbed her by the shoulders suddenly and then shoved her onto her back, roughly. She grinned at him slightly and reached out her hand.

He moved a bit so that he was on his knees, between her open thighs. She wrapped her legs around his hips and poised him at the entrance of her soaking wet cunt. When he was there, she pulled him towards her, gripping him tightly as he slid into her, as far as he could. Her back arched to him and she grabbed hold of him tightly. He began to slide in and out of her, and just watched her respond to him. Each stroke brought her deeper and deeper into the oblivion of his control. He could see how much she belonged to him, ached for him, was starving for him, in her eyes, and how her body pulled him further inside of her.

All of the arguing, shouting, slapping, struggling, had resulted in the intensity he held for her at that moment. Her body felt so good. The way she held him, caressed him. She reached up one more time. Her mouth soft against his, she murmured, "I'm yours Sir…please; take me…"

He looked into her burning eyes for a moment, and then turned her over, roughly, strongly. He lifted her hips and pulled her backwards. She growled like an animal in heat and he plunged into her once again; so deeply, he felt they were bone to bone. He dug his fingers into the soft flesh and pounded into her. She rose onto her elbows and braced herself, so his deep thrusts wouldn't break her balance.

Each thrust of his hips seemed to be harder and deeper. He was pounding into her with so much force, it hurt his hips, yet he wouldn't stop. He couldn't. The primal need to take her, fill her, had taken over. He could feel his release rising. It was pulling him in and he could feel himself giving in to the sweet oblivion. The spasms shook him so hard he could barely move, but that's when she pushed even harder. He reached down between them and grabbed her clit between his fingers and squeezed. He slapped her ass, hard. Each time, he felt her body pulse beneath his fingers. She begged for more; harder, please harder, as he struck her flesh over and over again. After only a few more strikes, she joined him in the sweet abyss.

Her body once again shook and bucked against him, but this time it was from pleasure. She screamed into the bed, the softness muffling the intensity as she drained her lungs into it. Over and over it carried them until they both collapsed; exhausted.

A little later, they had their dinner, sitting on the floor near the coffee table, by candlelight. Then they took a long hot bath together, to relax them both, and it did tremendously. Afterwards, they slid into the bed, lying close, and held each other until they fell into a deep restful sleep.