Victoria exhales a heavy sigh as she enters her home, but she barely has a chance to take off her coat before you’re rushing to the door and doing it for her. Ever the doting spouse, you can’t help but give her a few kisses to the face in the process. She’s exhausted, but you still manage to bring a smile to her tired face, even after dealing with mindless idiots who have clearly never so much as even glanced in the direction of a book.

God, sometimes she had the urge to passive-aggressively attempt to educate her associates but she couldn’t do that without getting labeled as a bitch, and— oh, she forgot how amazing you were at giving massages. She was usually the one taking care of you, but this is a nice change.

She can physically feel the tension melting away as you gently guide her to the couch and make her lay down on her stomach so you can properly massage her. Soft hands pushing back the sleeves of her blouse, until inevitably she’s lying underneath you topless. There’s something so intimate about massages. She’s already on the cusp of sleep.