# Every Inch Of You

Title: Every Inch Of You
Status: Complete
Characters: Anon, Fang
Rating: NSFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: Anonymous
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You await patiently on the bed, hands on knees. It was that time again, your regularly scheduled 'quality time' with your wife. Amber was at school and would be staying later than usual for one of those after-school activities. Nobody home to open the door and interrupt, just you and your ptero wife. It's been what, ten years already? Time flies. You feel a bit sad thinking about it. You always had put off thinking about the end when you were younger and full of vigor. But as the candles on your birthday cake grew in number, so did your thoughts about the inevitable.
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You slap your cheeks a few times, pushing the thoughts away. No place for negativity right now - don't want to kill your boner.
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Lucy's taking longer than usual getting herself dolled up in there. Is she putting her makeup on again? You chuckle a bit. Still as vain as ever. You always told her that you thought she was beautiful even without it, but you suppose it makes her feel pretty. Not that she needs it. You drum your fingers on your knees, tapping out a rhythm as the seconds tick by. Would it look bad if you knocked?
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Eventually comes out, and you resist the urge to whistle. Mother of mercy. If you had gone even a little flaccid waiting, you were back to full mast in the blink of an eye. Motherhood and age had accentuated her body, and though she wasn't as petite as she used to be, you found that this state had its own charms.
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You eye her up greedily, going from her plump thighs to her soft stomach and to her full breasts. Her wings look beautiful; silver plumage and silver hair framing this veritable Venus. It felt good. You were the only man allowed to see this sight in the world, you take great relish in that fact. That little ring on each of your fingers meant that the two of you belonged to one another forever. Exclusive, lifetime access to each other.
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She paused in her stride, covering herself with her wings. That broke your concentration, bringing your eyes up to hers. The orange orbs seemed a little duller, her face not as happy as you'd have thought. You tilt your head to the side, wordlessly inquiring as to what's the cause of this behavior. She fidgets in place as an answer. Sliding off the bed, you make your way over to her hand begin to stroke her wings.
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"Amber's still going to be at school, if that's what you're worried about. I called ahead and made sure they put her in one of the longer activities today," you laugh a bit. "No more pretending to have been wrestling, I promise."
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She seems nonplussed. Maybe now isn't the time for jokes. Maybe she's acting shy? Sometimes she liked it when you were the active one during all this.
You gently tug at her wings, working your fingers through and and pulling away her feathered wrappings like you're undoing a Christmas present. The image certainly helps. She looks to the wall. There's a bit of resistance, but her wings part all the same. Under her wings, her arms are crisscrossed over her body, censoring most of it. You pause. Something doesn't feel right about this.
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"Honey?"
She doesn't move her head.
"Lucy?"
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That wall must be really interesting.
Your hand brushes her cheek, pushing a few stray hairs back into place. She shudders, and you take a step back. She looks saddened when you do.
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"What's wrong?" You ask, but get no response.
You rack your head for explanations.
"Did I hurt your feelings?"
She closes her eyes. She wants to speak but doesn't. Her arms tighten around her body.
"Did I do something wrong?"
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At that, the dam breaks. Her hands fly to get face, staunching the tears. Her shoulders shake with her sobs. You hear that awful, awful sound. The sound you promised you'd never let her make for the rest of her life. "No...." She cries, drawing the word out. Undulating it with sobs. Your heart is pierced, a poisoned dagger twisting its serrated edge and ripping deep into you. You embrace her tightly, wishing you could leech away whatever it is that's ailing her and take bear it for her. Wishing away whatever it is that you might've done wrong. "I'm just... I'm just...." She tries, but you shush her. Your hand finds the back of her head and strokes her hair tenderly, comfortingly. The two of you stand there silently, bodies embraced. Your modesties are pressed against one another's but no carnal thoughts pass through your mind; just the desire for her to be happy. Eventually, the shuddering slows and comes to a stop. Still you hold onto her, listening to her breathe and feeling her breasts rise and fall against your chest.
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"Lucy, if you don't want to do this, it's fine."
"It's not that, dear..."
"What is it then? What's wrong?"
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She sighs, before separating from your embrace. She looks down at herself.
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"I just..." She thinks about what she wants to say, how she wishes to phrase it. Her mouth opens several times, but no words come out. Frustration plays across her face. "Just look at me!" She snaps, hands splaying out. You stand there, not entirely sure what it is she's talking about. Her hands fly to her stomach, taking a handful of flesh. "Look at this! I'm all... gross!" Her hands violently rake at her body, hands squeezing her breasts and thighs. "I look in the mirror and all I see is someone who's let themselves go! It's nothing but disappointment!" Her voice raises with intensity the more she rants. Her feathers start to bristle. "When you're away at work I exercise, I jog, I eat salads. I bought God-knows-how-many home workout DVDs! I just... I just..." Her face gets redder and redder with irritation. "I'm not attractive like I was in high school..." She lets out, deflating. "You're only with me because we're married. Every time we go out and eat I see younger women all around, prettier women, and I get scared that you'll notice them and not want me anymore..." She covers herself up with her arms again, tears threatening to leak down her face.
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"Lucy." She doesn't hear you.
"Lucy." She shuts her eyes, playing scenarios of nightmares come true, of infidelity.
"LUCY!" You shout, her eyes snapping open and turning to look at you.
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"Lucy I want you to do something for me."
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She looks at you. You look down signaling for her to do the same. She follows your gaze, and you gesture with your hands. After staring at it for a few minutes, her cheeks become visibly dusted with pink. "Do you see that?" You ask. She nods her head, words failing her. Nice to know you've still got that effect on her.
"You are aware what that means, right?" Another nod. "Do you think that would happen if I wasn't liking what I was seeing?" She pauses before slowly shaking her head. You laugh a bit, shaking your head. You close the distance and re-embrace her and kiss her cheek. "I made you a promise, do you remember what it was?" She rests her head on your shoulder, correctly guessing she's suppose to remain silent. "'Till death do us part', I said. 'To have and to hold,'" You tighten the hug. "'in sickness and in health.'" You rub your face against her, savoring her scent. "I know you don't care what my opinion is... but I think you're rather pretty. You're my wife, Lucy. You're the mother of my children. I think I'm more than a little partial to you..." You nip at her neck. Your hand scratches the spot between her wings, working its way down to her lower back. You hear the low rumble of pleasure begin in her throat.
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"I love you, Lucy. You're the most beautiful girl in the world to me. I love you not for just what you look like, but for who you are. You've got a heart of gold, you're a good person. I enjoy your company. I wouldn't have agreed to spend the rest of my life with you if I didn't..." You chuckle. Hearing her laugh along fills you with warmth. "I love every inch of you, even the parts you don't love about yourself." You kiss the side of her neck. You kiss it again, moving lower. You move your head and place another kiss on the front of her neck, and she moves her head up compliantly. Your trail of kisses move lower and lower. Base of neck. Clavicle. Sternum. Each breast - she likes that one. You kiss her belly several times, leaving her giggling. "Quit it! It tickles." She laughs, moving back. Her giggles die down as you move even lower. She pushes against your face, loving the attention. After a few exploratory motions with your tongue you pull back and grab her hands, leading her to the bed. We now return to our regularly scheduled programming.