"So, how many days has it been, now?"
I brushed away a fine hair that had been tickling my nose and thought for a moment. "Fifty three days so far," I answered. She had one leg over my shoulder, and I planted several small kisses along her warm thigh, my other hand idly caressing her belly and waist.
I felt her hesitation.
"I, uh, have some bad news," she said after pausing for a few seconds. "I have to go to Kansas again."
"Oh, dammit. Don't even tell me. . ."
"Yeah, it's going to be late next week," she replied, almost sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I just didn't have any control over when Marketing was going to ask for new staff training."
I knew that there was nobody else available to go, but I was still disappointed. "You know, you promised only sixty days this time," I said reproachfully, hoping to rub in a little guilt. "By the time the weekend rolls around it's going to be sixty four days."
"Oh, come on," she replied, "that's only five percent extra. After two whole months, what's another half a week?"
"Yeah, well, I don't see you not coming for two months. Let's see how you'd react if I told you you'd have to go for four days, let alone sixty four."
She disentangled herself to get off of the bed and pad toward the bathroom. "Maybe I could mail you the key at the beginning of the week."
I snorted, "Yeah, right. And have it get lost like that other time? No, thanks."
The sound of water tinkled around the door. "Hey, maybe you could leave it with somebody," I called out. "Preferably somebody cute, kinky, or both."
"You son of a bitch," she sputtered, "you'd love that, wouldn't you?" Walking back into the room she threw a towel at me. "I think you're missing the point of having your cock locked up."
"Yeah, somebody cute and kinky," I mused aloud. "How about that cute blonde that works with you. You know, with the big rack. What's her name. . . Chris?"
I didn't hear my wife's answer because she was beating me over the head with a pillow. All I was able to make out sounded like, "You bastard! I'll get you for that!"
The conversation seemed to go downhill after that.
The Magic Word - Mrs Edge doesn’t care for the P word because, in her mind, she had been leaving open the possibility that she might remove my stainless steel cage one day....
11 months ago