Cuckoo...Cuckoo...Cuckoo. I looked up at the cuckoo clock and realized that you would be home in less than an hour. It's been a rough week since you left. When you left, it felt like someone stole an important part of me, and I knew I wouldn't be whole again until you returned.
I really missed you. I missed waking up next to you and touching your skin. I missed hearing the sound of your voice. I missed your musky smell and the taste of your lips on mine. I missed the pleasure you gave me.
I climbed the stairs to our bedroom, thinking about what would soon happen. I decided to take a bath. While I relaxed in the warm, sudsy water I replayed the scene from Saturday morning before you left. I had just stepped out of the shower when you threw me on the bed and started kissing me.
Your mouth slowly worked its way down my body, stopping only to suck on my nipples. I felt them spring to life with your tongue. When your lips reached their destination, I was already wet with excitement.
One touch of your tongue was enough to send shivers through my body. It wasn't long before I had peaked, and my body exploded with relief. Then you raised yourself, took off your shirt, and threw it aside. Your pants and underwear soon followed.
I reached over and gave you the benefit of my mouth. It wasn't long before you were as ready as I was. Together, we rode the waves of passion until we crested. While you filled me with your pleasure, I felt the tides of our excitement wash me away.
Outside, the taxi honked and you realized you were late. You quickly grabbed fresh clothes from the closet rather than searching for the ones you had scattered around the room. You raced out the door, carrying your shoes and socks in your hands. Afterwards, I picked up your clothes and tossed them into the laundry.
The next morning, I refused to get out of bed knowing that something important was missing. I lay there and dreamed you were beside me, but when I tried to reach for you, I woke up and found my arms empty. When the cuckoo clock told me it was noon, my stomach forced me to get up even though the rest of my body wanted to wait in bed for you.
Monday morning was worse, since I knew I had to wake up in an empty bed. I could still catch a faint smell of your scent on your side of the bed. I was able to convince myself that you merely stepped into the shower before me. However as my feet hit the floor, my body knew my mind had lied. Somehow I was able to suffer my way through the day, knowing you'd soon be home.
An annoyingly loud alarm clock served to remind me that the boss had scheduled an early meeting for Tuesday morning. Fortunately, my anger at the clock and my boss pushed you out of my mind - at least until I climbed into the shower. When the cold water hit me, I regretted not waking up in your arms.
Your phone call woke me on Wednesday, and I was excited to hear your voice. Talking to you gave me the strength I needed to make it though one more day.
I overslept on Thursday. Without you, I couldn't get out of bed to save my soul. So I stayed there the rest of the day, dreaming you were lying beside me. My fingers were no substitute for the real thing. The cuckoo clock reminded me each hour that I had one hour less to wait until you came home.
Friday morning, I awoke to another ringing phone. I prayed it was you before I reached over to answer it. Unfortunately, it was my boss. He told me he had scheduled another early meeting for today and had forgotten to tell me about it. The fact that I didn't kill my boss right then and there was due solely to the fact I couldn't wring my hands around his neck when he was safely on the other end of the telephone wire! I reminded myself you would be home tomorrow, and I imagined all of the things we would do together once you were back in my arms.
Getting up this morning was worst of all, even knowing it was a matter of hours before you would be home. I tried to relax and hoped you would come home early and surprise me. However, as the cuckoo clock reminded me many times before I finally dragged myself out of bed, time drags interminably for those who wait.
The water had grown cold, so I stepped out of the tub and grabbed an oversized towel. It felt cozy as I dried every inch of my body. Hanging the towel over the edge of the tub, I walked into the bedroom.
Even though the fluffy towel absorbed the moisture from my skin, I felt chilled. Rather than put on my robe, I dug into the dirty laundry with a passion. Down near the bottom, I found the shirt you wore just before you left. I pulled it out, held it up to my face, and took a deep breath. God, I missed you.
Pulling on your shirt comforted me. The feel of the shirt reminded me how it would feel to be in your arms again. I curled up on the bed and started rubbing my nipples through your shirt. That really felt good.
I reached between my legs and found that I was very wet. I couldn't resist giving my pussy a little rub. A little moan escaped from my lips as I touched myself. I then heard a familiar voice say, "Can I help?" I looked over and found that the part of me that was missing had returned.
Anticipation was a finalist in the 2004 Golden Clitorides category, Best Short Story by a New Author. While it didn't win, I was pleased when it made it to the finals. Thanks to everyone who voted for this story.
There's always something sexy about a girl wearing a man's shirt.
The picture that inspired this story was created by Jonathon Earl Bowser. Please visit his web site to purchase a copy of this or some of his other
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