About 10 minutes from home I got a text message from my wife: “Are you almost home? I really need you to be here soon.”
I rolled my eyes. So my son is probably acting like a jerk and my wife is having a bad depression day. So much for relaxing after work.
Got home, parked the car, and dragged my tired, aching back upstairs. As I walked down the hallway toward my bedroom, I saw my son’s bedroom doors closed, which meant he was probably napping. Now confused about the text I received, I started to take my hair down out of my bun as I opened my bedroom door to a bit of humidity and the clean, sweet smell of my wife’s soap.
My dreaded text message had started to take on a much happier meaning. I closed the door behind me and spotted my wife leaning against the wall to my left. She was wearing a thin, loose white tank top that clung just slightly to her damp skin, and a simple but sexy pair of bright blue panties.