Fake Turns Real

Visit

“Ugh,” I groaned as I tried to fix up the shelf above my desk which was holding several of my favorite books, “Stupid shelf.”

“What’s wrong babe?” John asked, walking into my room and stood beside me.

“This shelf keeps falling,” I complained as I tried to push it up as one side of it was becoming lose again, “I’ll have to get someone to fix it after my parents are gone.” As far as I knew, John was definitely not good at such thing. He was prone to accidents involving hammers and nails and screws and stuff, so it would not help if I asked him to help me. And today my parents were coming over in the afternoon, and they were going to stay here for the night.

“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully, looking at my shelf.

“Okay, forget about it now,” I said and headed to the cupboard where all the bed sheets were kept, “I need to start covering up the evidence.”

“I’ll help you,” John offered, and we cleaned up all the evidence of me sleeping in this room separately from John – yes, they would be staying in this room and I would have to sleep with John tonight. Luckily every room in this house had got a double bed so everything could go as planned.

I flopped down onto the bed when we were done. I had to move everything in my room to John’s, and it was quite tiring.

John flopped down next to me, “I’m so excited for tonight,”

“You know, we’re just going to sleep on the same bed and that’s all,” I turned my head sideways so now we were looking at each other, “It’s going to be the same as what we had done in Paris. So I don’t get why you’re excited.”

“But your parents will be here, so maybe… We have to act in front of them?”

“God,” I rolled my eyes, “I really don’t understand how your brain works. Who will do that when their parents are here?”

“Me,” he smiled at me cheekily.

I sighed and was about to sit up when John pulled me down again, “Where are you going?” he asked, his arms wrapping around my waist tightly and I was now lying on him, my back against his front.

“Somewhere where I don’t have to have this conversation with you,”

“I’m not letting you,” he whispered and nuzzled into my neck.

“JOHN!” I tried to sit up again but his grasp was too tight. He locked his fingers together.

“Hmm,” he kissed my neck and moaned into my neck, and I used every single bit of my determination to focus on not giving up to him, because honestly speaking… It felt good.

I was starting to feel something getting hard beneath me and I was now struggling like mad, but he still would not let go.

“Ahh JOHN!” I yelled, but he simply tightened his arms.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I relaxed as I thought John would stop now, because my parents had arrived.

“They’re here,” I stated, and attempted to break free again. But John just would not let go.

“I don’t care,” he said, and bit on my neck.

“This is not funny John, come on, let me go,” I said, “Are you trying to rape me?”

“This is not,” he mumbled into my neck, “You’re my wife.”

“Not,”

Then the doorbell rang again.