She wanted a husband who would come home at six o’clock every evening, not be sending her a telegram from Austria, or Australia. So I resigned and t...ok a job here.’ ‘And then what?’ ‘She decided she didn’t want a commuting husband either. She didn’t want to live in a London suburb. She wanted to live in her home town. But I couldn’t get a job there, only in London.’ ‘There must be more?’ I laughed. ‘Yes, there’s more. While she was thinking about our future, she met a Royal Marine. His job. Even Maddy sat still beside me. I watched Nate with my heart in my throat and no air in my lungs while his gaze focused on the parishioners spread out before him. He smiled at them, at each and every one of them, with kindness and love. Then his eyes met mine. And he winked. My knees felt ridiculously wobbly. It was good I was sitting down. The Service continued, just the same as it had every week before, just the same as it would every week in the future. The air had lightened and brought me. My shoe is untied" I said, dropping the other lace next to my left boot. He dropped to his knees for me (again), pretty sure I heard a horny little moan that time, going to work on my other boot. I sipped my coffee thinking it over. How could he possibly be getting off on this? I mean I was certainly enjoying myself. I couldn't imagine that he was too, but the evidence seemed to indicate otherwise. I mean I guess they invented the word masochist for a reason right? I rubbed the side of his head. Just thinking about your hungry and lustful eyes following my every move. You'll creep behind me, giving my tight little ass a slap. I can feel your manhood pressing against my ass, grinding from behind. Your hands slipped under my apron, and started kneading my breast. "Ouch!" I snapped, I accidentally cut my index finger. I sucked my finger, trying to stop it from bleeding. Dreaming awake about sex is not safe, especially when you're holding a knife. I laughed at myself for a second, thinking.
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