When I stepped into Neil's bedroom, I saw that he'd already stripped down to his boxers. He was in the process of drawing back the covers, but the sight of me made him pause.
"I like that," he said, nodding toward my nightgown. His stare moved over the garment, which was actually quite modest. It was white, with delicate straps and a hem that fell to my knees. "Is it new?"
"I bought it at the thrift store last week," I replied with a smile. "I'm pretty sure it's vintage."
"Looks like it's never been worn."
As I went to join Neil in bed, I felt my shoulders release some of the tension they'd been carrying. It was only a little after ten on a Friday evening, but both Neil and I had had a stressful workweek and were eager to relax. Though we'd been together for only six months, some of our friends teased us by saying we already acted like an old married couple.
I supposed that was somewhat true. Neil and I were both in our mid-forties, and both settled in our careers. While I had my own apartment, I often spent the night at his place. He and I agreed that our wild days were mostly behind us, and I found I appreciated the stability he provided far more than the unpredictability that characterized many of my past romances. Our relationship was blessedly free of drama, and our rare disagreements were always mild and quickly settled.
As we now lay facing each other, Neil smiled. In the soft lamplight, I could make out the flecks of amber in his hazel irises. His hair, that nondescript color between blond and brown, had begun to gray at the temples. I'd recently dyed my shoulder-length hair a rich chestnut brown in order to conceal the silver strands that had become far more plentiful over the past several years.
"What are you thinking, Jeanette?" Neil murmured. "You've been a little quiet this evening."
"Just thinking about how perfect you are." Stroking his cheek, I felt a trace of stubble beneath my fingers.
Neil's smile widened before he pressed his lips to mine. As our kiss deepened and he drew me close, I sensed his growing arousal. He was always quick to physically respond while with me, and I couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been in the mood for sex. I was grateful for that, since my own sex drive had surged once I entered my forties.
But even when Neil was clearly horny, as he was tonight, he never pressed me. Instead, he waited for me to initiate our lovemaking. I guessed it was a trait he'd developed during his former marriage, for he'd once revealed that his ex-wife accused him of constantly wanting sex.
As I slid my palm over his bare chest, he lifted the strap of my nightgown from my shoulder. "I hope this gown becomes a favorite of yours," he said.
I laughed at the lascivious way he wiggled his eyebrows. "I'll wear it anytime you want," I promised.
When I slipped my hand beneath the covers to fondle Neil's cock through his boxers, he released a pleasured moan. In an instant, his playfulness morphed into desire. His lips were eager at my neck, but his touch remained a mere caress.
My body ached for something I couldn't easily describe; all evening, I'd been trying to figure out a way to put it into words. Before I could lose my nerve, I whispered, "You know I love how gentle you are."
"Uh-huh." Neil's breathing quickened as his erection strengthened from my attention. He tenderly suckled my neck, his tongue warm on my skin.
"But if you feel like being... less gentle," I went on, "I'm perfectly fine with that."
He lifted his head, giving me a puzzled smile. "What do you mean?"
I felt my face grow hot as I made another attempt to explain. "Well, haven't you ever fantasized about just... taking me?"
Neil averted his eyes. Instead of answering my question, he asked, "Are you telling me you want it rough?"
"I'm not asking you to slap my face and call me a bitch or anything like that."
"I'm glad, because I can't do that." Finally, he looked at me again. "I'm afraid I'll say or do something to turn you off."
"You won't," I assured him. "But if the idea doesn't excite you at all, we can just forget it." Already, I was regretting bringing this up. The last thing I wanted to do was make Neil think I wasn't satisfied in bed. "I'm sorry I suggested it. I just—"
The kiss Neil gave me was hard enough to make my lips ache. Even as I whimpered at the ferocity of it, I craved more.
Breaking the kiss, he asked in a guttural voice, "Is this what you want?"
Silently, I nodded. Gazing up at him, I was struck by how different he seemed. His stare was full of lust, along with a steely determination.
When he sat up, I moved to do the same, but he held me down. "You're not going anywhere."
Those words instantly made me grow wet. I lay still as he grazed my bare arm with his fingertips. Then he yanked at the straps of my nightgown with such force that I thought he might rip the fabric. Yet he didn't stop, and I gasped at the way he jerked the gown's bodice lower to expose my breasts.