The Homecoming

He would be back home any minute now.

She was nearly delirious with anticipation. It had been so long since they'd seen each other. So long apart. So long without the soothing comfort of each other's presence. Nervous with excitement, she busied herself with a flurry of small tasks: cleaning this, dusting that, arranging this—anything to occupy her time as the minutes interminably dragged on.

She had obsessed over what to wear that morning. Tried and retried outfits. How should she look? What would he like? Finally she'd settled on a loose white pleated skirt, perfectly contrasting with the smooth, dark tan of her legs, and a fitted tube top, tracing the outline of her slender waist and accentuating the curve of her breasts. Braless, she knew that her dark nipples were clearly visible through the fabric, and the thought that this would arouse him turned her on even more.

She was in the kitchen when she heard the door open. Having waited for this moment for so long, she was too startled to move, frozen in place like a deer caught in the headlights, sponge in hand over the kitchen countertop. Rooted in place, she heard him drop his bags and make his way to her.

Like a cat, she thought. She turned around to face him and he was on her. There were no words exchanged. He simply swept her into his arms, his weight pushing her back over the countertop, and embraced her.

His kiss was hungry, ravenous. His tongue thrust deep into her, his want overpowering, and distantly she heard herself moan in response, months of need and want surging into their embrace.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back. They looked into each others eyes, briefly, the look of impassioned intensity in his almost too much for her to handle.

He grabbed her by the hip and flipped her around, her back to him now, and with his other hand pushed her upper body down so she was leaning over the counter. Almost before she realized what was happening he had flipped her skirt up over her hips and roughly yanked her panties down to the floor.

"Spread your legs," he commanded, the first words he had spoken to her. Without a moment's hesitation, she widened her stance, her pale behind fully exposed to him, elbows resting on the counter. She heard him unzip his pants and turned her head back to glance at him. Seeing his hard cock spring to life in his hand she bit her lower lip as a fresh wave of desire swept through her, her hips instinctively arching back in response.

Oh, how she craved him! Craved his presence enveloping her, inside her. Craved to be filled by his hardness, by his want.

There was no foreplay. He stood himself between her parted legs and slid his cock into her. She was moist and eager and he slid all the way, his hips pressing against her ass, pushing her forward against the counter's edge.

"Ooooooh," she moaned, swept by the sensation of pleasure and want that coursed through her.

He fucked her then. Not gently. But with deep, hard thrusts that slapped against her ass and made her whole body quiver, lifting her off her feet. Her moans intensified and she closed her eyes, losing herself in the act.

A sharp slap on her ass shocked her back to attention.

"Don't just stand there, fuck me," he reprimanded. Spank. "Come on! Fuck me with that sexy ass of yours!"

It was like a switch was flipped deep inside her. From a desire to receive to a desire to actively receive. A new, stronger wave of aggressive desire.

She dug her feet in to the floor and braced her hands against the wall behind the counter, pushing back into him, meeting each of his hard thrusts with equally hard thrusts of her own, fucking his cock with the same craven desire and intensity he was fucking her.

"There you go," he exclaimed, "that's a good girl."

He grabbed her hair in his hands. Thrusting deep inside her, the loud sound of rough sex echoing around the room. "You like that, don't you?" he asked, pulling her hair, arching her head back, his own head swooping down to bite deep into her upper back

"Ohhhh, fuck," she gasped. "Yes. Fuck me! Fuck me harder! Ohhhhhh God! Oh my God, I'm coming. OHHHHHHH!"

Her entire body shook as the wave of pleasure crashed over her, screaming out in pleasure, time in slow motion and eternity standing still. Panting, she lay her head down on her arm on the counter, her entire body flushed and glistening.

She felt his lips on her neck then, soft and warm and soothing. "You're beautiful," he whispered, and she smiled.

Still holding her hair in his hand, he gently pulled her back up to standing. She felt his hardness slip out of her, and she felt a momentary sense of loss, of incompleteness.

He turned her around to face him, and they looked into each other's eyes once more. His desire, his intensity, less urgent, was still there. "Finish me off," he said.

She looked down at his cock between them, hard and throbbing, slick with her juices. Lowered herself to her knees and wordlessly sucked it straight into her mouth.

This wasn't the time to tease. He was close, she knew that, could feel it in the hard tension of it between her lips, in the eagerness with which he slid inside her. Long fast strokes with her mouth, one had holding the base of his shaft and the other softly cupping his balls. Just the way he liked it to give him the release he so needed.

"Ohhhh yes," he moaned. "Oh that feels so good. Oh yes I'm coming! OHHHHH!"

She felt his cock stiffen, then pulse repeatedly with his orgasm, delicious hot come spurting inside her waiting mouth. She swallowed it all eagerly as he groaned in pleasure, he too momentarily lost in the ecstasy she had given him, her hand helping stroke every last drop out of him while her tongue licked him clean.

As he recovered she looked up at him, and he smiled. "I missed you," he said, pulling her up to him.

"I missed you too," she responded, melting into his embrace as his lips found hers again, this time tender and gentle and sweet.