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A Picture Perfect Setting

Forrest Conroy looked out his window on the 23rd floor, felt his dick getting hard and realized it had been at least a month since he'd had sex with his wife, Marsha. Too busy was his excuse and he decided to do something about it. He left work early and drove home. With the car snugly happy at being parked, he closed the garage door, stepped inside the kitchen and the aroma was overpowering. He sniffed heavily and it brought back memories of his younger days when his mother would also boil a roast with potatoes, carrots, onions and celery on the stove top for hours on end. No knife was ever needed and the dinners were anticipated with a saliva-ridden mouth. He smiled and took another long sniff as he went toward the dining room calling Marsha's name. He received no answer and then suddenly knew why. He spotted her through the window on her knees under the spreading oak tree in the back yard tending her flower bed. He spun on his heels, went back to the kitchen, out the patio door and scooted across the lush grassy yard to where she was bent digging a hole for a new plant. He leaned down, kissed the nape of her neck and said, "The kitchen aroma is heavenly. I can't wait to sink my teeth into that killer dinner you've created."

"Thank you, thank you, all acclimations gratefully accepted. Believe it or not, that's why I'm out here. Had I stayed inside any longer, you wouldn't have had any dinner because I would have devoured it myself." He laughed at her as he tugged the bib of her fashionable railroad ...

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