It was mid day Friday, you had messaged me for the fifth time in the last 2 days. All of them with the same plea “let this fucking week end!” Work had been hell, early mornings and late nights all week long. People calling out sick, others choosing not to show up. You certainly were ready for a break.
I left work early, went to the store to pick up some items for dinner. My intentions were to pamper you with a good dinner, a nice bath, a good orgasm or 2 and some cuddles.
I made it home 45 minutes before you, setting the mood with some wine, a good steak, some flowers and your favorite scented candles. When you walked in the door, I could see the frustration on your face. I hugged you with a kind steady embrace followed by a passionate kiss. It was at that point I realized the soft romantic evening wasn’t what you needed. You needed to fuck out some frustration.