1. Persephone in Winter - Prologue


    Date: 1/28/2016, Categories: Wife Lovers, Author: Night_Writer, Rating: 8, Source: LushStories

    jacket. That evening Elyse sat curled up in a big overstuffed recliner by the fire, her nose buried in a book. Her robe had worked its way open, revealing a delicious, smooth expanse of thigh, as well as the deep V between her breasts. Steven sat across from her on the sofa, his papers scattered over the wide, rustic coffee table. Now and then she glanced up at him, checking to see whether he noticed each time she shifted positions, letting her robe open another inch. "Damn it!" he muttered. "Where in the hell - Elyse, have you seen part of my manuscript? A loose page maybe? Something with a lot of calculations on it?" He still hadn't looked at her. She knew how important his paper was to his future - at least she thought she understood. His explanation was always a little cryptic to her, all that math and those strange symbols. She did understand that a college professor would always be just a college professor if he didn't distinguish himself in his field. Publish or perish. She had heard him say it so many times, as though she might have somehow forgotten the cliche. "You're tired," she told him, her voice as silky and inviting as she could make it. "Why don't you come to bed? We'll look tomorrow." "But it was just here!" he insisted. "Maybe I left it in my office." He rose and left the room, never glancing at her open robe. "For Christ sake! Damn it, damn it, damn it!" His curses echoed from the open doorway down the hall. Elyse sighed, put her book on the floor beside ...
    the chair, gathered her robe around her, and went to help. She stood at his office door, listening to him rant and watching him tear though stacks of papers. "It must be here! It has to be!" He still hadn't looked at her. "I'm going to bed," she told him finally. "You coming?" "Soon," he told her, finally looking up at her. She had let her robe fall open again. She was naked under it, and smiled when she saw him staring at her body. Steven paused and sighed, as though he was annoyed at being caught ogling her. "I'll be up soon," he said evenly, still shuffling through a chaos of white paper. An hour had passed before he woke her from a light sleep as he slipped into bed beside her. She felt his hand cup her breast, then move slowly down her belly, finally probing between her legs. Pushing away the numb calm of an hour's sleep, she turned toward him and placed her hand along the side of his face. Another minute and he would kiss her, then move closer, working his hips forward tentatively, as if asking permission to enter her. She would find his penis and hold him, playing with him lightly, coaxing him nearer, assuring him with her pounding heart and loving touches that she wanted him inside her. He made love to her with tenderness and precision. She knew every move so well. He would wait hours for her to cum. On the rare occasion when an orgasm eluded her, times when merely enjoying the closeness of being one with him was enough, he seemed relentless. It shamed her to think of ...
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