Audrey pov:-
The next day unfolded quietly, almost peacefully. I woke up early, the soft glow of morning sunlight filtering through the curtains. I moved through my routine with practiced ease—preparing breakfast, making sure everything was in order. I packed my lunch, double-checking the container to ensure nothing was forgotten. After Ethan left for his casework, I tidied up, packed my own lunch, and locked the house securely before heading out the door.
The drive to school was calm. As I arrived, I gathered the children in the classroom and introduced a fun, creative activity. I handed out sheets of paper and colored pencils, instructing them to draw their worst fear—something that truly scared them—and then to turn that fear into a cartoon character. Once they finished, they would tie their drawings to a small wooden toy and watch as it was submerged into a bowl of water, symbolically releasing their fears.
The classroom buzzed with excitement. Some children drew monstrous math teachers with exaggerated features; others sketched terrifying creatures from movies, snarling and clawing. I was admiring their artwork when a quiet voice interrupted my thoughts. A young girl, no older than six or seven, quietly approached and asked, "Teacher, what are you afraid of?"
I paused, momentarily taken aback. Smiling softly, I replied, "Dear, I'm grown up now. I don't really get afraid of anything anymore."
She tilted her head curiously. "But, Teacher, that uncle has been writing something on your car for a long time. Aren't you afraid of that too?"
I looked out the window. The school parking lot was just beyond the glass, and I could see my car clearly—no scratches, no signs of anything unusual. I turned back to the children and asked gently, "What happened to my car, dear? Was there anyone there?"
The girl looked at me earnestly, her small face serious. "Teacher, I saw him write on it. He was standing near your car. I think he's still there."
A slight twinge of unease hit me. I winced inwardly, recognizing that sometimes children see or imagine things—especially in the wake of recent events. Perhaps she had fabricated the story or mistaken someone for an intruder. Still, because of everything that had happened over the past few days, I couldn't dismiss her words outright. I decided to check the car during lunch break, just to be safe.
Once the children left for their recess, I took a careful walk outside to inspect my vehicle. I examined every inch—under the doors, the hood, the trunk, even the tires. I looked for any signs of tampering or scratches, but everything appeared perfectly normal. No marks, no suspicious devices. I ran my hand along the surface, feeling reassured that nothing was out of place. Perhaps it was just an illusion or a child's vivid imagination.
Later that evening, life settled back into a familiar routine. Ethan was busy with his ongoing case, buried in files and meetings. I spent my time preparing for the upcoming exams for the kids, trying to keep our days as normal as possible despite the recent chaos.
Days blurred into each other until the weekend finally arrived—my much-needed escape. I was genuinely looking forward to it. It had been a full week without a single moment of intimacy between Ethan and me, and honestly, I was beginning to feel the strain. Sometimes, I believed that physical closeness was essential—not just for connection, but also to help release stress and anxiety.
So today, I planned a special surprise. I decided to go to the grocery store, but with a purpose. I picked up a few things: a bottle of champagne, some decadent chocolates designed to stimulate the senses, and ingredients for a romantic dinner. I wanted to create a little getaway—something to rekindle our bond and remind us of the simple joys amidst the chaos.
Today, I prepared Ethan's favorite meal, accompanied by a rich, creamy cheesecake—our secret code for when we both feel the urge to have some fun. It's a quiet, unspoken signal that reminds us of our shared closeness, even amid the chaos of everyday life. Being a detective's wife comes with perks of learning codes; currently I am working on Morse code.
As the clock struck six, I eagerly opened the front door. A warm smile spread across Ethan's face the moment he saw me clad in a baby pink backless one-piece dress—his eyes lighting up with affection. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, he abandoned his bag and immediately pulled me into a passionate kiss. His hands found their way to my waist, squeezing my hips firmly, making me gasp at the familiar, electrifying touch.
I reached out and gently grabbed his shoulders, trying to compose myself. "The food is ready," I said softly. "Can we have dinner first?"
He chuckled, a mischievous smile curling his lips. "After turning me on like this, you expect me to eat? Just put the food in the freezer for now. I know you made my favorite, but honestly, I want you—then and there—for dessert."
My cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. We hadn't shared physical intimacy before marriage, but once we were married, I discovered something wonderful: Ethan was as perfect in bed as he was as a husband.
When we're both in high spirits, he's relentless—pushing me to my limits, refusing to let go until I'm completely drained, then tenderly taking care of me afterward. His stamina is something I envy.
He scooped me up into his arms, whispering softly, "I think I'm feeling a little more, uh, eager today."
I bit his neck playfully and whispered back, "Yes! I need you too."
He looked into my eyes with a husky smile. "As you say, hon!"
I lean closer. "I want us to do this without protection. I want to feel you raw and real—completely vulnerable."
The dim lighting cast a soft glow over us as his eyes sparkled with desire. In an instant, we were on the bed, bodies pressed close, breathing hard. He suddenly pounced, hastily shedding his clothes as I did the same. I could feel his hardness pressing against my wet core, sending a shiver through my entire body.
His lips traced a path from my cheeks, across my neck, down to my collarbones, and then to my upper swollen breasts. I hung my head slightly, savoring the sensation as he playfully licked my trembling, pebbled nipple.
Soon His rough thumb gently pressed against my navel just as I let out a loud, lewd moan. With a swift, confident motion, he pushed himself inside me—filling me completely.
A rush of sensation overwhelmed me, and I couldn't help but speak my desire aloud. "Harder. Faster. Until you have nothing left to give me."
I gazed into his eyes, filled with love and lust, and then whispered seductively into his ear, "Fill me up with your seed until I have no room left for anything else—"
He retracted slowly, a husky smile on his lips. "Gladly, my lady," he murmured.
The night stretched on in a whirlwind of passion, culminating around 2 a.m. He was versatile tonight. going so fast that I could see stars shooting in my eyes painfully, and that when he is hard as a rock and releases as I touch him more. When at last we collapsed into each other's arms, exhausted and satiated, I felt a peaceful hope for an uneventful Sunday—one free of chaos, just us, wrapped in each other's warmth.