Sometimes the hottest thing isn't the main event... it's the slow buildup. Spent the afternoon shopping for a new dress and couldn't stop thinking about how you'd peel it off me later. The way your hands would slide up my thighs, how you'd bite that spot on my neck that makes me forget I'm supposed to be the responsible one. I love how you make me feel like a teenager discovering her body for the first time, even though this 42-year-old mom knows exactly what she wants. And what I want is your mouth on my tits and your fingers working my clit until I'm screaming into a pillow so your father doesn't hear. Can't wait for you to come home and make me forget all about this boring Tuesday.