She sits on the couch, waiting for him to come home. The room is full of candles, all lit up. Scents drift across the room. Sweet, delicious scents of roses and jasmine and lilies. Sitting on the table are two empty wine glasses. One for him, and one for her. She is dressed in her nicest sexiest dress and she sits, and waits.
He is driving back from work and stops at a house. This house is not his house. This house, belongs to a young woman who is not his wife.
She waits longer. The clock chimes 10. The candles are burnt down to the bottom and most were no longer lit. The ice that was cooling the wine is nothing but water now. She gets up, tears on her face, and takes a shower before heading to bed, her dress is laying on the floor by the bed in a crumpled heap.
The clock chimes 11 when he makes it home. He takes a quick shower and crawls into bed with his wife, taking care not to disturb her and not noticing the empty glasses or the burnt out candles that was set out just for him.
The next morning she goes to work saying she would be home late. He stays home. A call is made out of the house and a car pulls up in the driveway half an hour later. A woman steps out. He greets her and they go inside.
She comes home early, earlier than expected. The door is unlocked. But he had stayed home. She walks in, then freezes. Noises are coming from the bedroom. She opens the door a few inches and the noises fill her ears. Screaming and moaning, passionate noises of love making. Anger fills her being as the sight before her never leaves. Her stomach churns as sher ran out the door and left the house undiscovered.
That night she awakes next to her husband. She had come home later and her husband had welcomed her with a passionate kiss. She creeps into the kitchen where a butcher knife was waiting in a drawer for her delicate hands to pick it up. She grabs it and went back into the bedroom, slipping the knife under her pillow. She wakes her husband with a kiss. He puts his arms around her and holds her close to him while they share passionate kisses. He takes her hands, putting them above her head as he crawls on top of her, kissing her neck roughly.
Screams of passionate love making is heard with the setting of the moon...
She took a long look at her sleeping husband. He looked so peaceful after their final love making. Sweat covered his brow and made it glisten. She kissed him deeply, and he responded, his eyes still closed and his tongue shot into her mouth. As the kissing grew deeper and their breath grew shorter she reached under her pillow and took the knife in her hand. The cool metal of handle sent shivers down her back, which were mistaken for shivers of ecstatic pleasure.
A silence filled the house and she took a shower and looked into bedroom. Fresh white linens covered the queen size bed. No husband was to be seen. But then again...she didn't have husband...
 moon_neko_23 · Tue Mar 20, 2007 @ 08:45pm · 2 Comments |
