Chanoey FanFictions

Neglected

I finish my plate of food and see Joey has been done with his. I close my magazine and walk around to his chair. He looks up at me. I lean down and kiss his lips, lingering, allowing the kiss to deepen slowly. I remove my lips from his. He stays looking into my eyes. Usually, this is where his eyebrows would wiggle or his lips would curl into a naughty smile and he would try to convince me to get upstairs. I wait for it to happen, but it doesn't.

"You heading up?" he asks and I realize he assumes that was a goodnight kiss. I don't kiss him goodnight like that, that's my romantic kiss, did he forget?

"Yeah, you coming?" I ask him.

"In a bit," he tells me.

Suddenly, I feel so estranged from him, like I haven't seen my husband in weeks, even though I see him everyday. I miss him and he's sitting right in front of me.

"Okay," I whisper and I head upstairs alone.

I get ready for bed like any other night. I change into some comfortable clothes and I'm in the bathroom brushing my teeth when I hear Joey walk in. I watch him through the bathroom doorway as he undresses. He throws on a plain t-shirt and stays in his boxer-briefs as he climbs into bed and clicks on the tv.

I feel a wave of guilt wash over me thinking about all the times I turned him down. My own husband, who I love and I'm still attracted to. I denied him of intimacy for so long he stopped even trying. I need to make it up to him. I feel a sudden extreme need to touch every inch of skin, to satisfy him so completely that just maybe he'll forgive me at least a little for being so unaffectionate and distant lately.

I spit out my toothpaste, swoosh some water around and wipe my mouth. I walk over to the bed. His eyes stay fixated on the tv. I sit on the bed and get under the covers with him.

I look over at him, he's still only watching the screen across the room. I pick up the remote and turn the tv off. Then, I climb over him, still under the covers, and sit on top his lap. He looks up at me, a bit stunned. He stays completely still as I stare back down at him. Two months ago, he never would have sat this still. He would have flipped me over or pulled me into a playfully kiss. Now, he stays sitting, looking up at me, like we've never done this... just waiting for me.

I lean down immensely slow and I press my lips against his. After a moment, he does kiss me back, which at least settles my anxiety that he hates me for a few moments. I pause the kiss, keeping my forehead pressed against his. His hands haven't even moved, usually his hands are always on me or he wraps his arms around me. How have I gone this long without noticing how much had changed?

I bring my hands to his face and run them gently down his temples to his jaw line. I pick my head back up so I can see him again. We both say nothing.

I lean down and press my lips to his temple. Then I move to his cheek, his jaw, his neck. I linger on each placement of my lips on his skin. I slowly start pulling his shirt up until it's trapped under his arms. I look at him and he lifts his arms so I can remove his shirt.

Maybe this is his punishment for me, keeping distant and quiet as I'm finally opening back up to him. It's okay if it is, I need to make up for all the lost time, I don't even deserve anything right now. I only want to give him as much pleasure and relief as possible.

I lean down and claim his lips again as my hands carefully graze over the soft skin of his chest. I start to feel something press up underneath me and realize he's getting hard. I honestly feel relieved I can still turn him on and now I know for sure he at least wants this on some level.