This morning we had made plans for me to meet you at work this evening so we could head to our regular Friday night dinner out with all our friends. As soon as I walk in, I can tell that you had a bad day. It’s subtle; I wouldn’t have been able to tell when we first started dating. I’ve started to notice your tells though. You stand to greet me when I walk over to your desk. When you lean down to kiss me, I run my fingers soothingly up the back of your head. Now that you are standing directly in front of me, I pick up on new details that I hadn’t noticed from the other side of the room. You’re tired and you look tense. I press a soft kiss to your jawline.
“We don’t have to go out to dinner with everyone else. We can go home if you want,” I offer. You look conflicted. You glance over my shoulder at the others. Your jaw clenches.
“I probably won’t be much fun tonight,” you warn me. I take your hand and link our fingers together.
“You don’t always have to be fun; I’m not the only person in this relationship that’s allowed to have a bad day. I still want you with me when you’re having a bad day — I mean unless you would rather have some space tonight. Which is also okay —” I’m trying not to ramble when you cut me off.
“I don’t want space,” you tell me quietly. You wrap an arm around my shoulders and I lean against your side while we quickly make our excuses and bow out of dinner and drinks tonight. You guide me out to the car.
The ride home is silent but not uncomfortably so. I set a hand on your thigh, and you flip my hand over and intertwine our fingers. My other hand rests on your wrist and my thumb rubs circles against your forearm.
My apartment is dark as we walk through the door. We dump our jackets and personal belongings by the door, and you sit on a bar stool at the island. I walk over pour your a glass of your favorite whiskey and place it in front of you. You down it, and I pour you another and set the bottle in front of you. I walk behind you and massage your shoulders and neck. You groan and lean forward to rest on your arms. It’s several long minutes before you say anything.
“Are you gonna ask?”
“You can tell me anything you want, but if you aren’t ready, I will wait as long as you need,” I promise you softly as I comb my fingers through your hair.
“I don’t…” your voice is rough.
“Hey, I’m not going anywhere. Tell me when you’re ready.”
I step closer until I’m standing between your legs. My hands rest on your thighs. You lift your head to look at me.
“There are other ways to get whatever happened today out of your head,” I offer. You pull me flush against your chest. “Yeah? And what way would that be,” you ask.
“We could go to bed,” I answer simply. You grab the back of my neck and yank my mouth against yours. Your kiss is searing and possessive, granting no quarter. I throw myself into it.
You suddenly jump to your feet and lift me onto the counter. A wooden bowl of fruit crashes to the floor. I initiate another kiss while my hands slowly trace down your chest and abdomen to tangle in the bottom of your t-shirt which I peel over your head. My hands grip your biceps tightly as I try to pull you closer to me. You settle in between my legs and press your cock against my pussy. We grind together as the kiss grows more frantic. Your hands are tangled in my hair.
“I can’t wait,” your voice is a growl against my lips. Half warning, half pleading.
“You don’t have to,” I say simply as I finish underdressing while you harshly shove your jeans and boxers down your legs. You pull me forward again and enter me roughly. I bury my face in your neck, kissing and sucking the sensitive area.
Your thrusts are hard and fast. Your thumb moves on my clit in tight, fast circles. Your hands are bruising on my hips. You pull my mouth back to yours. Our mouths smash together and my arms wrap around your shoulders. The room is loud with our groans. I scream as rush towards an orgasm. I cling to you desperately. Your hand on my clit speeds up and you snap your hips a few more times before I shatter. My orgasm triggers your own, and you grab my hair, yank my head back, and bite the side of my neck.
We rest against each other and take several minutes to settle and catch our breaths. Then, you lift me off the counter and deposit me in the bed. You climb in next to me. We both lay on our backs for a few minutes before I reach over and grab your hand. My voice is a whisper in the dark of the bedroom.
“You don’t have to give me the details. I will always listen, but you don’t have to. But I want to know how you’re feeling. I want to know that you’ll tell me when you’re having a bad day or you aren’t feeling good, okay?”
After a moment you nod, and you pull me against your chest. As we settle against each other, you press a kiss to my forehead. A silent thank you.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/10zcvsn/f26_when_you_have_a_bad_day