Lost Keys

Simon stepped through the beaten wood door into the rather shabby apartment he shared with his girlfriend. His slightly narrow face was drawn—it had been a long day at the hospital. Four car accidents and a knife fight. This was southern Vermont, for chrissakes! Wasn’t it supposed to be, oh, quiet? And there was still that patient with mononucleosis. Honestly, she was perfectly able to go home. She was probably just sticking around because she wanted to torment him and had the money to burn so that she could do just that. Maybe the rising crime rate was a good thing, though, since it would hopefully get the twit out of the room so that someone who actually needed it could reside in it instead.

Grumbling softly to himself, he kicked off his black boots, revealing a mismatched pair of socks, and pulled his long black hair out of its ponytail that he wore to work every day. He’d considered cutting it when he began his job at Southwestern, but Cadie had talked him out of it by reminding him just how much she loved his long hair, tangling and twirling her fingers in it as they made love that night. The feel of her slightly taller form beneath his slender one, the guttural sounds and quiet mewling coming from their throats as their bodies moved together in a steady rhythm…the memory made him shiver slightly in pleasure. Needless to say, that had convinced him to keep his hair long and simply tie it back every morning before leaving for work.

Bringing his mind back to the present, Simon moved into the kitchen. Ever since that fateful night Cadie had set her peanut butter sandwich on fire (no one knew how she had managed this, though it may have had something to do with the fact that she wanted it toasted and only realized this after she had finished assembling it), he had taken over the cooking for the two of them. He pulled the spaghetti down from the top shelf of the cupboard and began boiling the water to cook it. After about fifteen minutes, the dinner was prepared.

“Cadie, food!” He called, his voice slightly husky from overuse that day. When he heard no response, he grew curious, walking out of the kitchen.

“Cadie?” He said again. Perhaps she was taking a nap? He walked towards the bedroom. Opening the door, he was shocked at the sight that awaited him.

There sat Cadie, her curvy form covered by only a pair of fishnet tights and a black lacy bra. She looked like she was concentrating hard on something, and when he looked down slightly, he saw a pair of handcuffs on her left wrist, which Cadie was fiddling with.
“Do you need help?” Simon asked, moving towards the bed and already feeling himself become aroused by the sight. She gasped, startled, and looked up.

“Oh! Simon, I didn’t hear you come in. Have you seen a small key anywhere? I think I lost it, and I would kind of like to get out of these,” she said, indicating the cuffs, “Especially since I haven’t actually finished getting ready. I only wanted to see if these fit, and then I remembered that I couldn’t find the key earlier after putting them on. Sounds just like me, doe—” Simon cut off her prattling with a kiss, slow and sensual, sending shockwaves through both of them. He felt Cadie’s free hand begin to trail itself through his hair, curling it around her fingers as his tongue dipped into her mouth. Her teeth bit down gently on it, before massaging it with her own tongue, making Simon moan softly into her mouth. He leaned in, deepening the kiss as he lay her out on the bed, his long hair draping over the both of them.