Higuruma Hiromi, a man of success and reverence, looked up to and deeply admired. He worked as a defense attorney, which contributed to overworking and barely spending time with you— his wife.

He knows you hate when he comes home late, he hates it himself, especially because he knows you would be dissatisfied by the little time he had with you. His self control rarely slipped, however, you always brought out a side of him that was unbeknownst even to him.

When he knows his schedule is overwhelming, even for you, he’d come home and ask you, so sweetly, to sit on his face every night before he slept. Just to make up for the time he couldn't spend with you during the day, and you would happily comply. Your scent, taste, touch, sounds, presence— that was all he needed to relax, and it gave him peace every single time.

Tonight was no different, he took care of you so lovingly, savoring every moment that he missed today with you. Almost three rounds in, he’s tired, so he lets you take over— sitting on him, taking him fully. His hands soothing down your thighs, he watches you with pure admiration and love— there was never lust in his gaze— there was no place he’d rather be than under you.

“Don’t I have the prettiest wife?”

His voice laced with exhaustion— but love and adoration, giving you that lazy smirk.