Heretical Fishing

The following morning, I woke to wonderful scents and even better memories. A riot of wings fluttered in my stomach, the sensation so overwhelming I had to roll around, my arm drifting over in search of…
“Maria?” I asked, blinking bleary eyes to find her side of the bed empty.
Soft footfalls fled from the lounge room, growing louder as they re-approached the door. It swung open a moment later and light came flooding in, the sun having risen more than I’d expected.
“What time is it…?”
“Closer to noon than sunrise.” My wife didn’t move from the doorway, her silhouette intoxicating despite being obscured by a robe. “You clearly needed the sleep after last night.”
“You should have woken me.”
Maria stepped forward, the scent of what she held almost as entrancing as she was. “The sky was already light when you fell asleep. Mid-sentence, by the way.” She laughed at the memory, then offered me the cup. “Coffee? Sue’s finest.”
I let out a pleased
She’d retreated to the doorway, still facing me. “They are. I had Rocky create a little oven outside to keep them fresh for when you woke.” There was a whisper of teasing in her voice. Before I could ask about it, she continued. “You have two courses for brekky. Second, Sturgill’s best creation.”
In a single lithe movement, she’d untied her robe, parting the front, blinding sunlight obscuring her soft curves and hard lines in comparative darkness. A taunting shrug, lungs expanding, robe falling. She stretched and twisted oh so slightly. The side-profile of her chest knocked the air from me.
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“I know we had a long night,” she said. “But I thought you might want something more… indulgent first. As befits a god-king, of course.”
Unable to help myself, I pointed over her shoulder. “You know that anyone walking past the front window would see your perfect little butt, right?”
She grinned. “Good thing I have the Buzzy Boys holding a perimeter in every direction. Wouldn’t want us getting interrupted.”
“You… you created a demilitarized zone around the house…?”
“I did.”
“That might be the single most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Her answering laugh was lilting yet filled with desire. “Really? I’m only getting started.”
“Gods above, I love you.”
“Is that so?” She stepped back, a third of her body shyly disappearing behind the doorframe. “You seemed more worried about people walking past than taking me up on my offer. Maybe we should have brekkie and—”
“
,” I commanded, sitting up, letting my
for her flood out. “
.”
She gasped, chest heaving as she stepped forward, full silhouette once more lit from behind. Her heart raced even faster than mine. Her yearning was just as strong. But her approach was languid, lascivious, the four steps seeming to take an eternity.
She raised one knee to the mattress; the other swung over me. I grabbed her waist, her smooth skin consuming my senses. She lowered herself. But before she could make contact, I rolled us both over. My muscular arms were planted on either side of her stunning head. Beneath me, her freckles were almost invisible against the red flush of her face.
I moved even lower, my forearms bulging, elbows pressing into the white sheets. We were so close I could hear her pulse, feel her breath, hot and sweet and pleading. I went to kiss her; she came to meet me. I pulled back at the last second, barely having the control to do so.
“Please,” she whimpered. “I need—”
She cut off as I pressed myself against her, slow, gentle, inexorable.
Like universes colliding, their many stars, planets, and moons reduced to shimmering clouds of interstellar dust, we became one.