I am alone. Well, Gregory lives with me, but we don’t talk. It’s strange. I thought after a year of lockdown, he’d at least engage in casual kitchen conversation, but no. He works the night shift, taking phone calls for 24/7 tech support. At least, that’s what he was doing a year ago. It wasn’t overnight that we stopped talking. Gradually over the five years we’ve been married, we just lost the spark. It’s neither of our faults, or maybe it’s both. Either way, I’ve talked more with strangers on the street recently than I have with my husband and we all know how willing strangers are to stop and chat these days. I don’t tell you this for you to pity me. I don’t feel sorry for myself and so neither should you. I tell you this so that maybe you can understand why I did what I did.
It was cold and wet outside. I miss the winters where snow was constantly present. It made the freezing temperatures much more bearable. Regardless, you can’t change the weather, so I drew the blinds and turned up the heat. Gregory was sleeping upstairs and I was bundled up at my desk, scrolling through online catalogues. I’ve spent too much already, but I’m not about to stop. To me, it was a game of pressure. Who would crack first? What would it take to bring Gregory down to scold me? I wanted to hear him yell. I wanted to hear passion in his voice. I wanted to feel something between us, even if it was rage. So far it wasn’t working, he paid our bills like usual and each month passed by, same as the last. It’s very likely he hadn’t even noticed my spending. He certainly noticed what I did next.
It was a risk, of course, but at the time it felt like I didn’t have much to lose. He came by almost every day with the amount of online shopping I’d been doing. It was routine for us to ask about each other’s days. He was always “doing fine, thank you for asking”. That day, when I heard a knock on the door for a package delivery signature, I had butterflies in my stomach. His eyes dipped down to my exposed cleavage when I opened the door. I was wearing a thin strapped tank top and underwear.
“A signature for the package?” he said and held out the device with a plastic stylus attached by a spiraled cord. I stepped out of the house and stood so close to him that he had to look down to see me. He didn’t retreat. I looked up at him as I stroked my hand across the front of his pants. He was hard already.
“Would you like to come inside?”
He held me against him and walked inside. I was stumbling backwards, but he held me firmly against his chest. He lifted me up to sit on the kitchen counter. I unbuckled his belt while he sucked and nibbled my neck. With his pants at his ankles, he tugged my shirt over my head and brought my hips in against his own. My panties were shoved to the side. No time was wasted before he was pounding against me. His cock filled me entirely, waves of euphoria hit me with each stroke. I moaned, then moaned louder.
“Faster,” I whispered between heavy breaths. He lifted me off the counter and bounced me against him in his arms. He buried his face in my tits. My added weight drove him deeper.
“Yes”
“Fuck”
“Mmmm”
Then Gregory appeared at the stairs and we froze. My heart beat fast waiting for him to say something. He remained silent, but there was emotion. I could see it and it was fiery. Lowered to stand on my own, I waited. The package boy turned and ran. Gregory wasn’t angry. I recognized that expression. That was lust. He approached me slowly at first, then quickly, crossing the kitchen in a few long strides. Then, he spoke.
“Bend over.”
Check out my [blog](https://daphneburke.wordpress.com/) for more free porn.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/mxtsxq/i_am_alone_a_quarantine_erotica
Wow !! ??????