Digging for Home

"But a Red Sox jersey? Isn't that something of a sacrilege?"

"I think you ignoring me for two days is a sacrilege."

Frank's head bobbed as he absorbed the censure. "I've been busy."

"Doing what?"

"Thinking about you."

"Nice save," Charlie said. "I've been thinking about you too."

"And ignoring me too," Frank noted.

"I'm a traditional girl, remember? It's the guy's job to do the asking."

"Point taken," Frank said. "It's also the guy's job to come bearing gifts, is it not?" He put the carton on the davenport and ripped open the lid.

Charlie peered into the box at the pinstripes. "Thank you," she said a second before her face broke into a sly grin. "Very thoughtful. That's, what, a week's supply the way you operate?"

"If you're lucky," Frank quipped.

"Oh," Charlie said, drawing out the syllable. "Now I'm the one that's lucky when I get my shirt torn off? I see how it is."

Frank flexed his fingers. A grin sprouted upon his face as his hands moved to seize the woman's garb between the "D" and the "S".

Charlie's mind raced as she felt her cock stir. Yes, dammit! Do it! You made me wait for two days; Rip it off!

Instead Frank issued a gentle tug and pulled the woman close, planting a tender kiss on the end of her nose. "Since you're an allegedly traditional girl, let's go do dinner and a movie; or in this case lunch and a movie. Unless you have other plans?"

Charlie's hips squirmed just as she attempted to suppress the urging in her loins. "I guess I can squeeze you into my schedule," she said before adding to herself, but I'd rather squeeze you into me.

"Like either of us have a schedule," Frank noted, oblivious to her wanton musings. "Do you have a formal dress?"

Charlie shook her head. "No. Do I need one for lunch?"