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He learns the truth about his wife too late.
I make little footprints with my lips, across her shoulder to her neck. Slowly, I creep up her neck until I find a shell-like ear. There, I take the lobe into my mouth and suckle, like a babe feeding on its mother's teat. I feel her nipples harden under the silky fabric of her blouse and a soft moan escapes her lips. I continue to nurse, my right hand cupping and fondling her breast.
She tilts her head back for me to kiss her on her cheek then twists in my arms so I can put my lips against hers. Now it is my turn to moan when her lips part, welcoming me into her mouth. The sweetness I find there is indescribable, just as is the smoothness of her teeth and the softness of her tongue. The erotic feeling of her mouth is only rivaled by the suppleness of her body, undulating under my hands.
It is certain that she knows the extent of my arousal. With her sitting almost in my lap, there is no denying the manifestation of my excitement. But, my gratification is unimportant. The only essential thing is her peace of mind, her happiness, her serenity, her tranquility and, I can only hope, her ecstasy.
With my hand, I pull her head down to rest on my chest, the crown of her head just below my chin. I hold her there, rocking back and forth, making soft, cooing sounds. I hold her for minutes, ten, fifteen, until her breathing has changed into a soft tempo and I know she is asleep.
Cautiously, so as not to awaken her, I pick her up in my arms to take her to her bed. Still asleep, she nestles tight against me, while I carry her, her arms around my neck, relying in me completely, without the slightest hint of suspicion or doubt. She is serene in the knowledge that I will not harm her or violate her trust in me.
She rouses slightly when I lay her on the bed but in moments her breathing has returned to the soft, rhythmic, cadence of sleep. I know that, for her comfort, I should remove her dress but I do not trust myself to be exposed to her soft, yielding flesh.
I pull the covers up and turn to leave when her hand grasps my wrist. "Wait, stay with me, come take off your clothes and get into bed with me."
This is absolutely forbidden! Every fiber of my being rebels as I remove my shirt, my shoes and trousers and slip into the bed with her, wearing only my under shorts. She spoons backwards into me with a soft, contended sigh. The natural fragrance of her hair assails my nostrils, driving its way into my brain. I close my eyes as if this will prevent me from seeing or feeling what I so desire to see and feel. I put my left arm around her waist. She quickly takes my hand in hers and moves it upward so my palm is in direct contact with her breast through the thin fabric of her blouse. She holds my hand there and makes a sound that is best described as a purr.
Torment is raging within me. I know in my mind that I cannot, must not betray the trust she has so willingly given me, but I am a man, with manly thoughts. I am not sure my resolve is strong enough to withstand the desire my body is feeling. I attempt, without success, to hide the manifestation of my urges. I pull away from her only to have her press her bottom harder against me until there is no denying she knows what she he is doing to me.
Is this a test? If it is, I must pass it. I cannot betray her confidence. It is my duty to watch over her as she sleeps, to protect her from harm. But I am not sure she understands the difference between the masculine and feminine psyche. Right now I am, by far, her greatest danger. After all, I am a man and could easily bring down on her the hurt that so many men have before.
My heart is racing and I can hardly breathe as I stifle a sob and back out of the bed, pulling my trousers on. I leave her murmuring and go back to sleep on the sofa.
The cold light of dawn breaking through the window wakens me, chilled to the bone.