Her four years of college were a challenge for us both. She was always busy with practice and performances, and I was immersing myself in my new career. It was exhausting at times, but we were always there for each other to share the experience. We married the summer between her freshman and sophomore year, simply unable to stand living apart any longer. Sara was her maid of honor, and as my mother cried her ever eager-to-fall tears, my father beamed at us. They love her as much as I do. She’s been a part of this family since the day she showed up, dirty face, tangled mess of hair, and poorly clothed, with Sara one afternoon after school.
With our marriage and her moving in permanently came a considerable commute for her, but she wanted to stay in the house I’d bought to be close to her. She preferred to be in the home that became ours, and my bed, every night, suffering the long drive every morning.
When she graduated, she suggested it might be time to consider Colorado again. And we settled into a beautiful secluded cabin on a small lake just outside of Evergreen, a small mountain town outside of Denver, a few months later. She gave me back the dream I gave up for her. I stayed in public service in Denver’s DA’s office, and she opened a very successful little studio in Evergreen.
And now as she ushers the last of the kids from the studio to their waiting parents, I pull her into my arms and kiss her passionately, pushing her body up against the wall of mirrors and the railing that lines the wall. My hand finds the railing, and at its touch I’m taken back to the first time I made love to her here. I now have many memories of this railing, but that first time, only days after we bought the studio, is my favorite. She was nervous about opening, and I wanted nothing more than to take her mind off her worry. I made love to her, pounding into her from behind with the fabric of her leotard pulled to the side, exposing her vagina to me. Her eyes watched me in the mirror as I took her body vigorously. I had only just left the office, and my suit pants were around my ankles and my jacket tossed on the floor. We came together as her tension melted away. She has given me every last inch and every last entry of her body many times over, and I know I will never and could never tire of her. She is made for me, and I for her as well.
She told me once that when she was with me she felt like the beautiful woman she never thought she’d be. I can’t imagine what could ever make her think she wasn’t beautiful enough for anyone, least of all me. She’s the beautiful one. The most beautiful one in the world to me.
The End
About the Author
Elizabeth Finn is an Iowa native, where she lives with her husband and son. By day, Elizabeth is a Human Resources Specialist, but by night, she checks her professionalism at the door and immerses herself in the world of writing erotic romance. Look for more to come from Elizabeth Finn.