The Butterfly Temptress

Somewhere in the house there are other people; people with voices and thoughts and feelings but I can’t be bothered with them. Not now. Not today.

The headache is raging out of control. I wish for relief and find little in a small white pill placed on my tongue and swallowed down with Mountain Dew. Maybe if I could silence the voice, the internal commentary that runs on endlessly. Maybe then I could relax and free myself from hellish pain. No migraine ever hurt as bad as this.

This week it seems that I’ve barely been hanging on or hanging in. Sick kids, The Knight working from home and on almost constant teleconferences (yes, he extended his work from home time and it is a mixed blessing) and my father having surgery. Add the news that my aunt is terminal, my grandmother is worse, and the monthly heating bill was astronomical and one can see why I might be a wee bit stressed.

Only in the middle of the night does it seem I may find relief. The day’s over and the house falls silent. Only the sound of the T passing outside the door can be heard. I snuggle beneath the comforter and lose myself in his arms, content for a moment to be as close as two people can be.

The pain medicine begins to work just as his mouth finds mine. His fingertips stroke my skin, inviting a response. My mouth opens and soon my thighs follow. For a moment I am hopeful, thinking that maybe tonight is the night that it will happen the way I wish it would; without prompting or begging and without a fight.

He moves and positions us both, his hips against my bottom. His cock is hard and I know that once more he is ready while I am only just getting started. I sigh as he enters me, as he barely notices the fact that I’m not wet. I close my eyes and focus on the image in my mind, think of a time and place where sex was good and fulfilling.

He finishes with a low sigh and a squeeze of my buttocks. He presses his lips to the small of my back and whispers his love. With a smile and a “Love you, too” I slide out of bed as he slides back into his boxers.

In the bathroom, in the dark I find what I want and what I need. I empty myself, cleanse myself of his come, and I silently begin to cry. Finally I can breathe; at long last my world- my mind -is quiet.