‘Right, Henderson, we need to get these last sex jar requests done.’
I rolled over in bed and looked at Oliver who was already up and hunting around for a clean shirt. He was back to work today. I was going to remain in my pants until at least lunchtime.
‘I know,’ I agreed, yawning. ‘We will . . . Christ, you look good in those pants. Are those the ones I bought you? Get back in here immediately.’
He glanced over as I threw back the covers. He sighed. ‘I wish I could. Early meeting with the boss.’ As I pouted, he sidled over and kissed my neck. ‘Ugh, you’re all soft and warm. Fuckssake. I’m going to be thinking about this all day.’
‘You could just put it in . . . just a little . . . just the ti—’
‘No!’
I pulled down my underwear a little and he paused.
‘What if I just put my hand inside my knickers while you watched? That’s what you wanted, right?’
‘Oh, you complete shit.’
‘And then my other hand began to wander to my nipples? Do you think that would work?’
‘Phoebe!’
I laughed. ‘OK, I’m sorry. Go to work.’
Finding his shirt, he quickly pulled it on and buttoned it up. ‘Promise me you won’t touch yourself until tonight. We’re so doing this. Shit, I have a semi now. I fucking hate you.’
I rolled back on to my side. ‘Hate you, too, honey. Have a great day.’
Yep. Still got it.
Tuesday April 4th
When Oliver got home last night, he was a man on a mission. As requested, I hadn’t touched myself for the entire day, but given that Molly was here, it wasn’t likely to happen anyway. Perhaps some mothers can have a quick one while their kid is preoccupied elsewhere; I just don’t seem to be one of them.
We all ate together, then he played a little Minecraft with Molly on the PS4. I didn’t think someone with such tiny hands could be so adept at building massive houses. Molly’s pretty good at it, too.
If Molly had been younger, I’d have jumped in the bath with her but she’s at the age where she just points at my body and either laughs or gives me a disgusted look, so I bathed her first before showering quickly while Oliver read her a story. After popping in to kiss her goodnight (and to make sure Oliver wasn’t asleep beside her), I put on some nice underwear, dimmed the lights and sat up in bed, waiting for him to come through. From the point where I heard him say goodnight and close her door, it was like he’d just Quantum Leaped directly into our bedroom.
He sat beside me on the bed for a while, waiting for Molly to fall asleep. He fidgeted, obviously dying to get started.
‘It’s dark in here, Phoebe.’
‘It’s called mood lighting. You want me to be in the mood, don’t you?’
‘Yeah, but what am I? A bat? I need a little more light for this to work . . .’
I compromised by turning the dimmer switch half a millimetre. Oliver got up and stood at the end of the bed. I suddenly felt very exposed.
‘You’re just standing there.’
‘I know.’
‘Can you at least take your shirt off? Women need visuals, too, you know.’
He smiled and started slowly unbuttoning his shirt, while I began running my hands over my chest and stomach. It all felt very unnatural. No one wanks like this. I felt like I was replicating some dodgy porn movie where women suddenly become inexplicably aroused when a man appears to fix their washing machine.
Very astutely, Oliver noticed this and without taking the piss, he quietly said, ‘Let me see if I can help things along. Close your eyes.’
I gratefully complied. Hearing my bedside drawer open and close, I began to smile. Oliver was bringing out the big guns.
