Your couple is going to experiment with something new sexually. Whips, bondage, sex in public, role-playing, something that lights a spark in their existing sex life, you decide exactly what that new adventure is. This doesn’t have to be a completed piece. Getting your characters to take on the new challenge will be sufficient. 800 word max. Switch back to the partners POV. Really get into their head, use as many senses as possible to turn this into something hot and sexy. Dialog can be sexy as well, use it, but try to stay away from foul language. Remember we are going to the sensual side of erotica.
Morgan turned to Dave as they pulled up to their parking space. “The thing is, I’m so tired. And you’re tired too. And the kids . . . It just feels like we never connect, anymore.” She put her hand on his arm. He sighed and turned off the car.
“We used to be so spontaneous and fun,” she continued. “When did we grow up?” She leaned against his arm—wincing as the gear shift poked into her side.
He reached his left hand around and stroked her hair. “Grow up? Not us.” They laughed. He got out and came around to open her door. “Let’s go inside, pay the sitter, and play.”
She nodded, looping her arm around his and taking his hand. The warmth of it made her fingers feel colder by contrast.
Ten minutes later, the babysitter was gone and Morgan was kicking off her shoes with a relieved sigh. She stopped by the kids room. Ava had turned onto her stomach. Logan had taken up his customary sleeping position with his feet on his pillow. She listened for their breathing above the white noise of the air conditioning, needing that reassurance before she headed to bed.
Dave came up behind her in the doorway and put his hand on her arm. She leaned back against him.
“We really are lucky,” he murmured, voice low to avoid waking the sleeping children.
She closed the door to the kids room and walked over to the couch to switch on the baby monitor.
“I think,” she said, settling down on the couch with her head against his shoulder. “We should get out the fantasy journal.” She wasn't looking, but his breath was warm against the top of her head and his muscles tensed in his chest. She couldn't tell whether he was eager or unwilling.
The fantasy journal was something they had started their first Christmas as a couple, when they couldn't afford real presents. They bought a notebook, and used it specifically to share fantasies, the things that they wanted from each other, the hot dreams that they wanted to make into reality. Things they had been too shy at first to say aloud, and then things that were so much sweeter when shared and remembered in explicit detail.
He cleared his throat. “It's been a while.” His voice deepened, rumbling through both of them, and he shifted closer. She smiled. He was into this. She could tell.
“Before Ava was born,” Morgan said and winced at the memory. That night had started wonderfully. They'd gotten out chocolates to use as chips and settled in for a game of strip poker. She'd had new lingerie to share—green lace garters and a sheer bra, but before the first hand, Logan interrupted with projectile vomiting, which derailed the whole scene. She twisted around to look at him. His brow was furrowed. Maybe she was wrong—maybe he didn't want to do this. “We need to take time for us,” she said. “That's all I'm saying. And we're not even halfway through the book.”
He met her eyes. Slowly, he reached to cup his hand against her cheek and leaned in. In a whisper that she could feel from where she lay, spread across his chest, he said, “I don't know where it is, but maybe tonight, we can just wing it.”
They kissed. The familiar taste of him combined with chocolate from their dessert, tongues twining together. He stole her breath and gave it back again. And again. Morgan broke it off, arching back with her hands on his chest.
“I like winging it,” she said. She scrambled back to stand up. He caught her hands as if to pull her back down, but she shook her head. He settled back against the couch, brown eyes hot as they stared at her.“But I had a surprise for you, first.” She reached to the buttons of her light blue top. “Do you remember last time?” she unbuttoned the top button, then slid her fingers down to the next. “I was wearing something special,” the next button showed a hint of green lace, “but then . . . we never got to enjoy it,” the next showed a broader hint, “and then I was so pregnant, it didn't fit anymore.” All the buttons were undone. She reached long fingers across her stomach to catch the fabric and take it away, shrugging it off her shoulders to drift behind her to the floor.
Her nipples were tight under the sheer lace of the bra. As she breathed, the fabric slipped and caught against them. Dave was staring at her, tense again with the effort of staying where she'd asked him to. She drew her fingers down from her shoulders, across her breasts to her waist and the button of her jeans. Her movements were quicker now. She was impatient.
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