After changing into pajama bottoms, I collapse on the bed. I’m still half-hard. I bury my face into the spot where Liv was. The pillow smells like her, fragrant and peachy.
Christ, I missed her. I’d had visions of our reunion—hot, sweaty, naked visions. Liv all damp and lusty, her breath catching in her throat the way it does when she gets too overwhelmed to speak. Squirming underneath me. Full, round breasts with those tight nipples that I want to suck until she begs me to fuck her…
I inhale a few breaths. I’d gotten the idea a week ago and spent the time before my return putting the plan into place. Five thousand miles away, it sounded romantic as hell to stay at a hotel while dating my beautiful wife again and planning a sexy weekend.
I groan. Don’t know how long I lie there on the bed, trying to figure out how I’m going to survive this. Even one day sounds like an eternity.
My phone rings. I shove up and grab it. Liv.
“Hi.” Her voice is breathless.
My cock twitches again. I tighten my grip on the phone.
“Hi.”
“Just wanted to let you know I got home okay.”
“Good. Thanks.”
“I’m so glad you’re back.”
“Me too.”
We both fall silent for a minute, the air thick between us.
“So, you never did finish telling me about that underground radar system,” Liv finally remarks.
“The…”
“You mentioned it during dinner. The radar you might use on the dig.”
“Uh… yeah.” Wondering why she’s interested now, I try to shift my brain to archeology and science. Maybe this will take my mind off the fact that I’m sleeping alone tonight. Again.
“I’m going to make a trip to a Cistercian monastery in France,” I tell Liv. “Valmagne. They’re doing some work with ground-penetrating radar. GPR.”
“What does that do?”
“It’s a noninvasive way of studying the structure before starting a more systematic excavation plan.”
“How does it work?”
“The equipment reflects radar waves off subsurface features and transmits them back to a computer. So before excavation, you first get a geophysical map of a large area of land and whatever is buried underground.”
“Impressive.”
“It works well, but sometimes it’s hard to get a clear image. The geophysicists have run into some problems in Valmagne because the limestone foundations of the monastery don’t give a good dielectric contrast with the carbonate-derived soil. Now they’re trying an enhanced processing system that’s given them some good images of the subsurface of the church. They want my opinion on the possibility that Gothic piers were built over preexisting Romanesque foundations.”
“Hmm…”
A thought suddenly hits me.
“Liv, are you touching yourself?”
“What?”
“You are, aren’t you? You’re masturbating while I talk about ground-penetrating radar.”
“I most certainly am not. What kind of freak do you think I am?”
“You’re my very hot, sexy freak.” I can’t help grinning, even as my prick starts to harden. An image flashes in my head—my wife splayed out on the sofa, her panties tangled around her thighs as she rubs her *.
“How close are you?” I ask.
“I am not touching myself.”
“What’re you doing, then?”
“Just… just sitting here. Listening.”
“What if I told you I had to jerk off thirty seconds after you left?”
She inhales sharply. “You did?”
“Uh huh. Couldn’t stop thinking about you. Wanted to rip your clothes off, kiss your gorgeous body all over, lick your nipples, bite your neck, then spread your legs so I could thrust into you and fuck you hard for a thousand days.”
“God, Dean.”
“But you’re not touching yourself.”
“Well, I am now.”
Heat bolts through me. My cock swells into full hardness.
“Are you?” Liv whispers in my ear.
I push my pants down and grasp my erection. “I am now.”
“Oh…” She lets out one of those breathy little sighs that fires my blood.
I tighten my fist on my shaft. “Tell me.”
“Oh, Dean. I want you so badly. I missed you so much. And I love this return to the beginning, but… are you sure you want to wait one second more?”
“I’m sure I’m about to explode.” My cock is starting to throb. I want Liv back where she was. “Uh, transept chapels. Spherical wave divergence. Gothic hemicycle piers.”
She giggles. “Keep going.”
“My sexy wife sitting on my cock. Riding me until we both come like rockets.”
She sucks in another breath.
“Are you naked?” I ask.
“From the waist down. I have a camisole top on.” She pauses. “Um, I just took a quick shower and shaved my legs.”
I have no idea why she told me that, but I don’t care. It’s a crystal-clear picture. She’s on the sofa in our living room. One bare leg over the arm of the sofa, the other foot on the floor. Spread open. Wet. Hungry. No bra. Hard nipples poking against her shirt. Eyes dark and heavy. Hair loose around her shoulders. Skin flushed pink. One hand between her legs.
“You know I fantasized about us,” I say. “Did you?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Tell me.”