Chapter 86: Postcard

In the early morning, Monica is awakened by the sound of rain outside the window.
The raindrops fall rhythmically with a rustling sound, drifting in like thin smoke through the loosely closed window seams.
The curtains are tightly drawn, making the room dim. She groggily opens her eyes and realizes that the person beside her has already gotten up. He is sitting on the edge of the bed with his back turned to her, dressing quietly. His shirt partially reveals the beautifully defined muscles of his back, and further down, where his strong waistline is, everything is wrapped up by the fabric.
She half-heartedly watches for a while, then lifts her foot from the blanket and steps on his lower back.
Steven's movements come to a stop, and he turns his head to look at her. "Awake?"
"Mhm." She lazily yawns and slowly crawls out of the bed, like a playful fish, she wraps her arms around him from behind, acting clingy and coquettish. "You don't have to work today, so why are you up so early?"
He turns his head and kisses her forehead. "I'm used to it."
Monica leans against his shoulder, her fingers explore his abdomen, enjoying the feel of his well-toned muscles, feeling drowsy and satisfied.
Steven lets her carry on with her actions and asks, "What do you want for breakfast? I'll make it."
"I want you." She takes a bite on his neck.
He doesn't mind her provocation; it's always like this. She talks without a filter, saying whatever she wants, but when it comes to actually doing something, she complains playfully about him not showing restraint.
"It's still early, let's sleep a bit more, and I'll wake you up later."
"I can't sleep anymore." Her fingertips go further down, pressing on the center of his leg through his sleeping pants, slowly rubbing. "Just accompany me for a bit more."
It's a very ordinary weekend, a rainy morning, a day with no plans at all, perfect for two people to spend the day aimlessly at home.
He turns sideways and embraces her, pressing his lips against hers.
Their tongues intertwine, stirring up a sticky sound. She is wearing a form-fitting silk nightgown, and the friction makes her nipples protrude, clearly outlined by the fabric.
The faint marks left by him last night are still visible on her collarbone. He reaches out to touch them, and his lips once again cover the marks, intensifying the redness.
In this final entanglement of the morning, she is on her hands and knees on the bed, being pressed against her waist by the man who cannot resist teasing her. He enters her fully from behind.
Monica's cheeks are buried in the pillow, her body trembling sensitively as it is completely filled. He doesn't thrust deeply for long, moaning and panting, and her wet pussy tightly gripes around his penis, continuously squirting.
The sexual organ buried deep inside her is drenched by her juices, warm and sticky, and the sound of water never stops in the midst of the thrusting.
Steven presses his cheek against hers, his voice low, his panting whispers flowing into her ears sensually, "It's raining outside, and it's raining inside the baby."
After saying that, as if to confirm his words, he slowly withdrew his genitals, and the flesh stem was slowly spit out by the orifice, and the shiny liquid dropped along the shaft, wetting the sheets.
Because it was tightly bitten, when the penis was completely pulled out, there was a gentle sound in the orifice, like a hollow sigh.
"Did you hear it?" He held the penis against the orifice, the glans rubbing against the tender red flesh, whether to enter or not, "the sound I just pulled out."
She was confused, panting and calling out to her brother a few more times.
He pressed against her, thrusting his waist a little bit into the orifice, the tightly wrapped layers of vaginal tissue slowly squeezed open by the rough and hard genitals, and the sound of wet stickiness was heard, even more decadent than the sound made during kissing.
Just like this, he slowly inserted a few times, the sound of water was stretched, and it was extremely clear in the dim room in the early morning.
"The sheets are all wet, baby." His voice was hoarse, panting and chuckling, "so sensitive."
At the same time, he thrust his waist, and the glans slammed against the cervix. She trembled and moaned, her waist and back trembling as she softened and was caught by him.
Monica was driven crazy by his slow and deliberate thrusts, unable to reach climax. She buried her face in the pillow, humming and gasping, saying she couldn't do it anymore, trying to crawl forward with her hands and feet, but he pulled her back by the waist, and the penis tightly and seamlessly embedded in her vagina, making a loud slapping sound against her skin.
"You can't not do it." Steven turned her over, picked her up and sat her in his lap, and forcefully moved his waist, fiercely thrusting into her.
The sudden and violent thrust caught Monica off guard. In an instant, she felt dizzy and held onto his shoulders, unable to stop moaning. Her vagina was pounded until it felt sore and weak, her body trembling, and her legs, wrapped around his waist, kept kicking uncontrollably.
"Husband... hubby, slower... umm... so deep..." Monica's voice had a trace of crying, "can't take it... really can't take it... brother... Steven brother..."
He bit her earlobe, his hoarse voice teasing in her ear, panting softly, "Can't take it where? Is it here?"
As he spoke, he intentionally thrust hard against her sensitive spot. Monica's whole body trembled as if struck by electricity, feeling pleasure so intense that she couldn't even find words to speak, her mind going blank, and intermittent moans escaping from her throat.
Steven reached down to play with her clitoris, while lowering his head to suck on her breasts, multitasking. It didn't take long for him to make her squirt, and she collapsed in his arms, sobbing softly, with a flush of desire on her fair skin.
The junction was in a mess, his legs were wet, obviously well taken care of.
He wiped a handful of fluid with his hand, "It's really raining."
Monica's eyes were misty, she lowered her head and angrily bit his shoulder, he kissed her and the two of them clung to each other, falling into the extreme pleasure of the affair.
After lunch, the rain continued outside, and the floor-to-ceiling windows on the high floor were filled with a gray haze.
The two cuddled up on the sofa by the window, listening to the sound of rain pattering, quietly and contentedly, experiencing endless satisfaction and comfort without words.
Steven hugged Monica with one hand, and placed his tablet on his lap with the other hand, sliding his fingertips slowly, flipping through domestic and foreign financial news. She leaned against his shoulder, playing with her phone, gradually falling asleep, her long and dense eyelashes fluttering a few times.
Next, in a commanding tone, "I'm tired, put me to sleep."
Steven glanced at her, "Monica, how old are you?"
"Do you want to put me to sleep?" The princess's temper flared up again.
He said, "Close your eyes."
Monica closed her eyes satisfactorily, waiting for his next words.
Steven's voice quietly and calmly entered her ears, "Financial leverage, simply put..."
Wasn't this the topic of her graduation thesis?
Monica startled, "What are you reading!"
How could someone read professional courses to put someone to sleep?! And she had already graduated!
Before she could get up, he pressed her back down, lightly covering her eyes with his fingers, and continued reading, "The level of financial leverage..."
Everything in front of her was pitch black, and all she could hear was his calm voice, slowly reciting professional terminology. Although she didn't want to admit it, the hypnosis effect was indeed very good. Monica closed her eyes and fell asleep in no time.
As he noticed the person next to him gradually breathing evenly, Steven slowly let go of his hand covering her eyes and looked down at her sleeping face. He gazed at her for a long time before couldn't help but smile.
However, this nap didn't last long, and Monica woke up again in a daze.
Steven maintained his previous posture, his arm around her, not moving at all, not disturbing her sleep.
She leaned in to kiss his chin and planted two kisses on his lips, then suddenly remembered something, "Did the postcard arrive?"
"It arrived early, in the study," Steven said, "You said I'm not allowed to look, so I haven't seen it."
Monica got up, put on her slippers, and went to the study to find it. Then she ran back to the living room and saw Steven slowly moving his arms, probably feeling numb from her sleeping on them.
Even in this state, he still refused to wake her up.
Monica sat down next to him and said, "Take a look."
She showed him the front of the postcard, a beautiful galaxy captured on camera during the night in Lake George, framed on this piece of paper.
After looking at the front, she hesitated to flip it over and asked him, "Do you want to guess what I wrote on the back?"
Steven pondered, "Hmm... Wishing me good luck at work?"
Knowing Monica's habit of giving him birthday gifts every year, he guessed that eighty percent of the time, it was just a polite phrase given their relationship.
She didn't say anything, just flipped the postcard over. The black inscription on the blank paper was delicate,
To Steven:
The stars are beautiful. If we have a chance, let's watch them together next time.
From: Monica
Steven's expression froze for a moment as he looked up at Monica.
She pursed her lips, "I didn't lie to you, it's my sincere words."
At that time, Monica held the blank postcard, holding a pen, contemplating for a long time, and finally wrote this sentence.
By the bonfire, a bag of desserts in the car, under the romantic starry sky, in the boundless wilderness, she had a very strong feeling about him for the first time.
Perhaps it was from that moment that her state of mind changed, willing to slowly let go of her hypocritical pretense.
Honestly Revealing Oneself
While picking souvenirs at the town market, she hesitated and didn't know what to buy for Steven. After looking around, she finally wanted to give him a piece of the starry sky.
Although it was far from the awe they witnessed with their own eyes, she thought, let's make a promise with him.
If there's a chance, let's go see it together.
Just the two of us.
The living room was silent, with only the shallow breaths of the two intertwining.
Monica asked him, "Do you like this gift?"
He lowered his gaze at the postcard, then looked up at her slightly red cheeks and spoke slowly and clearly, "Thank you, darling, I really like it."
Her sincerity was priceless.
He was lucky to have received it, he truly was the luckiest person in the world.
Monica threw herself into his arms and said, "Don't get conceited, you have to continue treating me well, especially well, understood?"
He kissed her forehead, "This is not a promise, it's instinct."
"Too bad it's raining today," Steven looked out the window a bit regretful, "otherwise, I would take you to see the stars tonight."
"There will be plenty of days in the future," she fantasized, "I still want to go see the aurora with you."
"Mmm," he smiled, his voice gentle, "we have a long future ahead of us."
For the rest of their lives, they would have a lot of time together, watching stars, doing anything together.
Every day in the future would be their new and happy future.