It was a normal Wednesday night when my husband came home from his day job at the office. He strolled anxiously through the front door, slamming it shut. Another hard day at work it looks like. I had already prepared him his favorite Italian sub sandwich, and an ice cold Miller Lite on the table stand with the T.V. remote on the couch. Hearing his exhausted sigh as I walked down the steps, I only wore the extra-large black hoody that he gave me on the day we first made love. He had already hanged up his coat, and took off his tie to reveal the dashing black dress shirt. When I first appeared, his tired blue eyes looked at me lovingly, like an angel descending to give a hungry man his meat and wine. We greeted each other quietly as we hugged lightly. His arms reached around my hips, tightening as we clasped lips.
After a long minute, I pulled away whispering “Hey there babe…”
“Hey honey…” he breathed lowly, and humbly.