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"No, father. Sebastian isn't here. Uh huh. No, I already told you-" The cool plastic of the receiver props up against my ear as I listen to my father go on and on about his most favored son, my eyes closing as I sigh and lean back into the plush leather of the office chair.
"Mhm. I'll make sure to tell him. What? No I'm not lying to you, he's not here! Honestly, father, you're borderline stalking Sebastian. I'm not afraid to sue you, I hope you're aware of that."
A low laugh is fed into my ear and I smile as my eyelids lift, taking in the sight of my room. The large office is washed in the light of a setting summer sun, the enormous floor to ceiling windows allowing the polished wood floors to tint a dark orange. It's getting late. I'm wondering where he is.
"He went for a long jog. Mhm. Right. Why do you think? We have three children and he's the precious son of Vincent Phantomhive, the psychopath who calls him every single day - he needed some time to himself."
I cross my legs, my fine suit wrinkling, the dark silk of the new vest I just purchased still flawless as I continue to lean back. It's already late so I've shed my jacket, the white sleeves of my dress shirt crumpled up towards my elbows as I stayed home all day with the kids and saw no clients. I listen to my father as he continues to blab about the importance of speaking to my beloved, all while my eyes shift from the windows to the door because I hear the front gate clatter shut.
"Father, I'd love to indulge you some more but I really have other things to tend to. Yes at this hour. NO he's not home, I have to take another phone call, I am not lying to you! Ugh, can you- GOODBYE! Talk to you tomorrow, farewell!"
I lift the thin receiver from my ear with the pluck of two fingers, throwing the thing back down onto its base and running a hand through my hair because it's always the same every night.
If it isn't my father it's a client or a patient or the newspaper or a magazine or a reporter or some annoying fanclub calling for Sebastian and requesting his time. And when he's here he always gives it to them too, never denies, after eight years of marriage still as submissive as ever when it comes to being the renowned philanthropist he's grown into.
I hate it.
I want him all to myself. I want our little spawns of Satan and he and I to escape up into the mountains like miscreants or fugitives, far far away from the overbearing clutches of my mother and the obsessive nature of my father. I want our little family to be secluded from society, I want my husband needed only by me and the slithering serpents that are our kids. I get angry and jealous, I get needy.
But not as needy as I am on this particular evening.
It's been about three weeks since we made love. Three. Entire weeks. A week doubled and another added to that. So long, too long. I work so late that I get back home around two in the morning, the kids asleep on our bed, all of their evil shortened limbs latching onto me the second I get under the covers. I feel his heavy hands try to wrap around my hips or waist but we're soon separated by the trio of bite-sized demons that hate sleeping in their own bed. Not that I blame them - to be in the arms of Sebastian is probably as good as it gets to euphoria itself.
And speak of the devil - he's just arrived.
My ears prick up and I slowly rise from my chair, the heart in my chest beginning to thump hard because the house is empty and I've left our fallen angels with my mother for the entire night. It's been hours since we last spoke and it feels like years since he last touched me despite the innocent kiss we shared this morning...and maybe the slap in the ass when the kids weren't looking. Oh and the grope as I was getting into the car but I swear that was IT that's all I got today, on this day, on this lonely day I've been tortured by every passing hour it's been complete hell.
I walk towards my door and barely open it just as I hear him come into the house. From my vantage point I can see the enormous steel of our large refrigerator about thirty feet away, and my eyes slightly widen when he finally comes into view.
I curse under my breath at the sight my eyes are graced with.
His face red from the run, his skin, his muscles - all covered in sweat. He bunches his fists into the hem of his drenched t-shirt and lifts it to wipe his slick brow, making me swallow because I can see the definition of his torso, the taut skin, the navel I could lick for days. As he breathes in and out his abdomen contracts, the sheen of the flesh and dip of the muscles making me sweat a bit myself. He's sculpted as fine as they come, finer than anyone I've ever met in my entire life, and I can only swallow and quickly shut the door because if I don't I'll probably jump him and that's not what I want - I want him to jump me.
I want him to tear me to pieces, actually.
The door clicks back into place and I walk towards my enormous desk and sit back down in my chair because I know he'll come looking for me in no time at all. The man can practically smell my desperation a mile away he's that good at knowing when I need it, and how I need it, and how hard I want it. As hard as my frail body can handle it tonight I'll tell you that much.
My hands fold neatly in my lap and my posture is impeccable, back straight and chin lifted, eyes locked right onto that door. Every second that passes has me thinking of him more and more, and my orbs slowly roll and drift across the expensive room we've made a mess of too many times to count.
He's taken me on the sofa by the window, pushed me up against the wall by the bookcase, this desk soiled about fifty times or more. Mounted me like a man uncontrolled right on the floor, spread my ankles open with those strong arms of his, nearly lost my voice when I screamed into the luxurious rug my parents bought us for our fifth anniversary. He's become so skilled, he's perfected the art of making me pique, he's mastered my body and mind and soul and everything in between he's just. That. Good.
Over the years we've been together he's only grown into more of a man, more composed and more mature - more handsome than anyone could ever imagine. He has that fine jaw and a throat so hot I can't even look at it sometimes. He runs for miles and works out, those muscles toned and fit, arms that can lift me and swing me around with barely any effort, an abdomen you could eat off of. At the age of thirty-five the guy is the embodiment of health and the bastion of altruism. He cares so much about everyone else that I sometimes wonder if he's even real or merely a figment of my imagination, a dream, a fantasy. My husband - he makes me ache I swear it.
He makes me act like a fool, he dumbs me down, pining, has me waiting at my desk for him because we've been together for a million years yet I still can't seem to control myself around him. I have to lock myself up, I have to make it his fault, I have to let him fall into my trap but you know what he always does. Always, always. The smartest man I've ever met, the most caring and kind and humble and selfless being to ever cross my path never ceases to fail being ensnared by the likes of me. Why?
Because he loves it. And he's so good at it, too.
My eyes dart back to the door when it's brutishly opened without even a knock. He's losing his manners - what a coincidence because I seem to be losing my patience.
He walks in and locks eyes with me, the door being swung back shut without a care in the world. Shit. He's drenched. He's still panting. If looks could fuck I'd be on my hands and knees by now.
His presence dominates the entire room, his face as sexy as they come, body built like a machine, tall enough to have my head tilting back and intimidating enough to have me smile because I have nothing else to show for myself.
"Have a good run?" My voice is smooth as the question rolls off my tongue, his body stopping a foot away from me as he intrudes the area behind my desk like it's his fucking house. It is. He owns everything in it including myself.
"Did Rachel pick up the kids?" He finally speaks but looks at my lips instead of my eyes so naturally I lick them just for him.
"She grabbed all three of them by their little paws and dragged them off to the car-" I don't even get to finish my sentence because he finally looks me in the eye and the words get caught in my throat, my tongue thick, my heart racing as I hang off of his every movement.
"Come here." He eyes my body from head to toe and takes a step back, extending his arm to coerce our hands to meet. Coercion isn't necessary as I slowly slide my fingers into the warm flesh of his palm the very next second. He squeezes them and I stand, and it's only when I get so close that I notice every single bead of sweat. Every drop that falls and catches more, sliding down his skin, marinating every inch of his body just for me.
His jaw and throat, the collar bones that I'm dying to lick clean. His Adam's apple. God that thing drives me crazy I can feel my dick just twitch at the sight of it. His hair is pushed back and damp as it seems he ran over ten miles, the way his lips part when he tries to steady his breath something I wouldn't mind watching over and over until the day I die.
He leans down because he's so much bigger than me and I love it, I love it a little too much actually because I get on the tips of my toes just so we can kiss a second faster.
Our lips meet sweetly and I close my eyes because I think he's going to do what he does best and drop his jaw, but he doesn't. The kiss is soft and quick, and he speaks right onto my mouth as he releases my hand and wraps his arms around me.
"You look small in this vest - is it new? I've never seen you in it." Those hands squeeze my waist like they don't know their own strength, my palms grabbing the firm muscles of his biceps just to steady myself. From dropping to my knees, that is. "What have you been eating?"
My eyes drop down the expanse of his chest and past his hips before I glance back up to him, licking my lips because I want them bitten by those perfect teeth of his.
"Not nearly enough if you ask me."
My waist is jerked forward and our lower halves push into one another, my sanity wavering as he speaks again.
"I'm not joking, Ciel. If you get any thinner it'll worry me, my hands can practically wrap around your waist."
"Well. You know what they say about big hands..."
He throws me this half smile that makes me go fucking crazy, works every time without a doubt and he knows it.
"I'm going to cook for you tonight and you're going to swallow every single bite. Something fattening and filling and an enormous dessert that I'll watch you eat."
"I know something fat and filling that I don’t mind eating every night-"
"Ciel...come shower with me."
He gives this slight roll of his hips on purpose so I can feel how hard he is, the stiff mess between his legs dragging over my upper thigh and making my face turn five shades of please-fuck-me-here pink.
"Shit. No. I don't want to shower, you don't need to- no!" Our bodies detach and he grabs both of my hands and starts walking backwards, my body refusing to leave the confines of my office.
"Sebastian what the hell, can't we do it here?!"
"No"
He's too strong and I know it so I give up and let him lead me to the door. He releases a hand to open it and then grabs my palm again, yanking me out of the room as he stares right at me.
"I'm drenched in sweat, you're in new clothes. We haven't showered together in too long."
"And?! Like I care?! I've put our tailor's kids through fucking college. Stop, let go! Let's go back to the office-"
"The bath."
"The OFFICE!" I swear I try my best to pull my hands away but his grip is so tight that I have no choice but to follow him. We pass our enormous kitchen and then the front door, and I only grow angrier the second he starts walking backwards onto the stairs - we barely get halfway up.
He smiles and lifts a single eyebrow like me being upset is adorable and in this moment where he is slightly distracted I yank my hands away and attack him because I've had enough.
Broad shoulders crash onto hard steps, his fit body instantly reacting and latching onto the banister in an attempt to get to his feet. I grab his arm with both hands and yank it away, slamming my palms onto his chest and getting on top of him like the sex-depraved husband he's turned me into.
"No. You're not going anywhere."
"Ciel, wait. Calm down."
Calm down he says. Calm down as the slick flesh of his throat moves when he swallows, the way his drenched muscle-shirt slightly lifts to flash the bones of his hip, that slight curve that slants and seems to point right to the enormous tent in his pants. Calm down? I don't think so. Calm down - I'd rather die.
"Stop. Struggling. Sebastian."
"I'm all sweaty can you please just-"
"I FUCKING like it don’t you get it? I love your sweat, I love tasting you when you're like this don’t you notice every time you come back from running I eye-fuck you like some horny teenager stealing a peek in the locker rooms? So sit back and shut up and let me suck that crazy thing that's pointing right at me because I need it in my mouth before I go insane, okay?"
I lie. I'm already insane. For him. For his attention, for his body. I'm starved for it all and I know he is too because he glances to the side and then looks right back at me, his demeanor switching the instant he realizes he wants it just as bad.
"I wanted to have you in the shower."
"You will." I slide a hand past his chest and middle to palm his dick, squeezing him through the thick layer of his sweatpants and feeling him get harder by the second. "But I want it on the stairs first. And then in the shower. And then the bed."
"What about the kitchen?"
Fuck - I fall deeper in love with this man as each day passes I swear it.
"While you're cooking? You know I love being fed by you. How many times can you drive it into me tonight?"
"I have the stamina to go as long as you'd like - you know that."
Oh he's not just saying that. He's not exaggerating. Stamina is an understatement with this one - he can go for hours. He'll run for miles and manage his work and be the most amazing father in existence and then come back home to me and satisfy me until I beg him to stop. And I do. I literally have to pry him off of me sometimes because his endurance is too much for me, too exhausting, too overwhelming. I once fainted because I begged him to give it to me as hard as he could and he went so wild that I felt like I was about to break. He fucked me into a momentary blip of a coma it was amazing. Needless to say it scared him so bad he's never given it to me like that again.
But that's about to change if I have any say in how this goes.
The trouble is I rarely do.
"Take off your clothes." I give him an order and he lifts a hand and grabs me by the back of my neck, pulling me down into a passionate kiss instead of undressing as I asked.
I still get weak and excited and completely undone when his jaw drops and he rolls that tongue right into my mouth. He sucks and bites me, he moans and breathes into me and it makes me release these short little gasps of a whine that I just know fire him up and fuel him and ignite that spark between us.
Long fingers dig into my hair as he tilts his head and pushes our tongues together, the way he starts to shove it in deeper causing my hands to start tearing at the sweat-soaked shirt he wears.
That thing comes flying off in an instant as I separate our mouths, leaning back to take in the view. It's more stunning than any scenery I've ever witnessed.
His chest is pristine. Wet with sweat and carved like a piece of fine art. I desire it one second and in the next it's mine - my mouth going for his abdomen as my fingers tear at the expensive fabric of my vest.
Those muscles tense the moment my lips drag across their sculpted surface, my tongue joining in and lapping up his flavor as I free myself of my first garment.
We're at an angle as we use the stairs to aid our positions, my knees falling onto a lower step as my mouth shoves right over that thick tent.
"Rgh, Ciel." He gnashes his teeth and widens his thighs when I bite the swell of his shaft, moaning out in frustration because he wants to feel my tongue but I favor sucking and biting and breathing all over the thing to purposely frustrate him.
Fingers soon slide beneath the collar of my dress shirt and the fabric is roughly clenched and parted open so violently that every button pops off within a matter of seconds.
"Hah, you're going to pay for that." I look up and smile at him, peering past the enormity of his dick that's so desperately trying to get out of those pants. Our eyes meet and his hands move to the hem of his sweats, pulling them down because I guess I'm just not moving fast enough.
The thick layer of cloth slides lower as my eyes roll to meet its every movement and I swallow as his hips are revealed, his skin, the transition from smooth muscle to coarse hair. I want to lick every inch of him but my mouth really starts to water as the hem of the pants slips down over that swollen base, over fattened flesh ribbed just for me, over the flush contours of his tip.
It sticks straight up once finally free of the prison of clothing, and my heart skips a beat because it's the kind of hard that intimidates me. He's already dripping and twitching and probably agonizing over how long it'll take for me to give him the best head in history. But I'm apparently mistaken, he doesn't agonize over it at all - he stuffs both hands into my hair and forces me down instead, well in control and knowing exactly what he's doing, rewriting the history himself.
The flavor of his precum gets fed to me, dragging from the middle of my tongue deep down to the back of my throat in one rough push. My jaw widens as far as it can go and my hands fall to each of his knees just so I can keep myself grounded as I'm yanked back up by my hair.
My eyes close and my mouth slips off of him and I growl because I love the sting of it all. He hisses and pulls harder, my head dipping back far enough so he can see the expanse of my throat. I beg him with a whine to let me have another taste of it and he replies with a gruff voice and another rough tug.
"Don't choke on it this time."
I dig my fingers into his knees just as my eyelids lift, and I can't help but look at him when he's like this because I know I'm the only person in the world who is privileged enough to see it. A beast between the sheets.
"I won't make any promises, Doctor." He hates it when I call him that and I did it on purpose so he could shove my head back between his legs and that's precisely what he does, too. My mouth is soon filled and my tonsils shoved and stretched and I moan as my tongue starts to roll around as he forces my lips up and down.
His dick is hot and I can taste every part of him, my saliva dripping down that long shaft and my nose getting stuffed into the wide base, all controlled by his hands alone. It's making my ass start to clench just thinking about how he's going to wreck me tonight, and when his hips start to lift I can't take it anymore and remove a hand from his knee.
My palm magnetizes towards the button of my slacks and I quickly undo them and yank at the zipper. You'd think I'd grab my dick with the way it's aching to be touched but instead I pull down my briefs along with everything else until the fine cloth falls to my knees so I can go right for my hole.
Two fingers press over the opening that's been neglected for a million weeks, and I start rubbing it like crazy as my throat gets driven into. The sensation of my hair getting pulled and my head forced up and down and my fingers teasing myself and my tongue getting all used up, shit, it has me writhing like I'll die if I don't get some life fucked back into me soon.
"Just the tip." He pulls me up so my mouth can slide right to where he wants it, and I take to that leaking slit and slobber all over it. I kiss it and softly bite it, I moan into it and makeout with the swell of smooth skin, and just when I feel it start to twitch I tilt my head and have my tongue wrap around it like crazy. "Like that, lick it."
My husband is mad with lust now, sucking in a breath and exhaling the words "take it" back out as he slams the full length of his dick deep down into my throat. I can hear the back of his head thud onto the step because he's about to get his release and I'm about to get what I've wanted for weeks. He grunts and clenches all ten of his fingers into my hair when it happens and I do exactly as he says, taking everything he has and swallowing the thick spurts he empties into me.
Before he can even finish feeding me I'm too far gone and decide to feed my lower half this time, slurping my mouth off of his dick and climbing up another step to crawl onto him.
His hands release from my head and fall to my waist, and he pulls me up because we're both moving on instinct. I look him straight in the eye and he lifts a palm to cup my jaw, staring at me with lids heavy like he's about to fuck me out of the constraints of comprehension.
"Take off your pants so I can spread your legs."
I kick my shoes off and the slacks that pool at my knees slip all the way down to my ankles. I struggle out of them while never breaking eye contact, and I'm left only in my white socks and white dress shirt that was torn open by the likes of his desperation.
The hand on my jaw slides down to my chin and he slips two digits over my lips before I open my mouth and take them in. He lifts his other hand from my waist to sweetly caress the side of my face as I suck away, and I widen my thighs as I straddle him because I'm about to start trembling if I don't get him in me soon.
"Go, just go, ah fuck." My voice breaks after I pop the digits out, and before I know it he's licking his lips and massaging my hole with the soaked pads of his fingers.
I whine and sit up, one hand grasping the banister as the other presses onto his sweaty abdomen. My jaw falls open and I choke out a breath when he finally sicks them in, both at the same time, right down to the knuckle.
"Mm! Don't!"
"Shh, you're okay."
But I'm not. I'm too tight and too horny, and the way he's slowly sliding in and out of me is only making my body move up and down.
I sit on the fingers and roll my hips, gasping and moaning and getting all red in the face I'm sure, the instant his fingers bend inside me making me scream.
"Rgh! Fuck, fuck - take them out."
"No"
"Take them OUT, Sebastian." My palms slam down onto the step by his head, flanking his damp locks of hair as he notices how serious I am.
What do you know the fingers slide out of me the very next second, and I lean down to give those flawless lips a messy kiss.
I don't even need to ask if he's ready because I know that he is, his endurance otherworldly and never needing to be questioned. Without even steadying him with a hand I position myself right on top of his still-thick dick and lower my hips like I've done this a thousand times - I have. It's practically my second job.
Our jaws both drop and we gasp as our tongues roll all over the place, my belly tensing as I fill myself with all he has. His tip is still wet with come and at first it's cool against my skin, but when I push it in only heat is left and I'm suddenly being stretched beyond my means.
We make out and he grabs my ass with both hands, gripping me tight as he separates my flesh. I rock my waist forward and back as I sink lower and lower, and he kisses himself off of my wet lips to start with his vulgar mouth.
"You're so fucking soft inside."
And can you get any harder, my love. It's not even a possibility I know it, I can feel it - my insides widening, my thighs already shaking, my mouth hovering right over his lips as I softly moan.
"Sit on it all the way."
"I'm...f-fucking trying hah...AH!" He circles a palm over the swell of my ass and gives me a heavy spank, causing me to do just as he demanded and impale myself onto every rigid inch.
I take him in right to the base and I have to give myself a moment because I can't breathe. My eyes shut tight and it feels like I'm about to cry, my chest heavy and heart fluttering, my body adjusting to his big dick, my mind craving another smack in the ass.
"Hurry up." The way he lifts his hand and gives me another whack slaps the life right back into me, and I whine out this long drawn-out moan when the sting of the spank couples with the sensation of his cock thumping inside of me.
"God, g-god please-" His hands squeeze my ass and those large palms slide up each of my sides, over each curve of hip and rack of rib. He fondles me and uses the stairs to his advantage, lifting his hips off of the step to jerk my body up only so it can fall back down again.
I'm loud as he works me into moving, screaming as I start bouncing on his dick. His soaked tip drives into me and it makes every inch of my insides more sensitive than ever. I start moving faster because he's hitting those spots that can make me come in a matter of seconds, all the while I keep earning swift, violent smacks on each cheek because it only makes me go faster.
"Hard...er, fuck. Harder." My nose stuffs into his sweaty temple as I beg for more and I lewdly smell him because it turns me on like nothing else. He's such a fucking man, chocked full of testosterone and can probably kill with his bare hands, a body fit for the hunt, fuck, I'd be his prey every night that should have been included in our vows.
"Augh! AGH!" One minute my hips are swaying as fast as they could go and the next I'm being lifted right off of him, turned around, and slammed right into the banister.
With my left knee on a higher step and my right on a lower my hands grip the railing and I feel his heavy palm caress the stinging, reddened flesh of my ass.
"Stick it out for me."
He's gotten real good at giving me demands over the years, and naturally I'm a professional when it comes to following every order. Just for him I curve my lower back and stick my ass right out, only to have him lean down and lewdly breathe right over the nape of my neck.
"How hard do you want it?" His nose sweetly nudges behind my ear and he gives the lobe a kiss as I whimper out a moan.
"I want...hah, I want two spanks and then I want you to stick it in me."
He massages the flesh of my ass and slides two fingers down the middle, dipping them into my hole and sucking in a breath through his teeth because he couldn't hear a more perfect answer.
"Give me what I want first."
"L-later, please just do it now. Now, hah fuck please I can't take it any longer."
"Ciel. You know the rules."
I swallow and let out this dry sob of frustration because I just want him to be inside of me already. With a desperate lick to my lips I look over my shoulder and right into his eyes, my brows cinched in frustration as he never fails to make me do this.
"I'm in love with you."
He smiles and gives me a tender kiss on the lips, only to tell me to say it again.
"This time without looking like you're about to kill me maybe?"
My eyes fall flat and I give him an arrogant smile and stick my ass out just a bit more, dying when his palm can't help but grab me as hard as possible.
"I love you, Sebastian. I love you, I love you. I love your big dick and your heavy hands. I love your eyes and lips, I love your thick cock. I love your voice and your smile, did I mention I love your dick?"
Instead of being offended he pushes his hot mouth onto my ear and whispers into it, too used to my sarcasm and probably getting off on it too.
"What do you love about it?"
Heat rises to my face and I immediately look away but when I do I get it bad. Real bad. He uses all his strength and spanks me as hard as he possibly can, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing in my ears as my chest slams into the stair railing.
"FFUCK! F-fuck!" I swear there are tears in my eyes as I scream at the top of my lungs, my throat raw as I choke out every breath. He never gives me a second and instead positions his tip right outside of my hole and sticks every inch inside of me all in one go.
"Augh, no- YES!" My fingers claw into the banister and my eyes shut tight as he starts fucking me like crazy, our bodies smacking together as his dick shoves in and out. My ass is numb from the smack but my insides are only a million times more sensitive, every thick ridge of his making me wail every time he whacks his hips.
He grunts and yanks my dress shirt down to expose the curve of my shoulder, his lips immediately latching onto it once he gets the chance. I feel his tongue as he kisses my skin and his cock as he gets rough with his motions, and when he reaches around me and carefully grabs my dick I swear it starts to sound like I'm crying even though I'm not.
I'm letting out these soft growls when he decides to push two fingers onto the underside of my shaft and push into it, sliding it all the way up to the tip. The way he moves should be recorded in history books, the way he touches me, the way he exercises every muscle of mine.
He kisses my shoulder some more and whispers "I love you, Ciel" in between rough breaths, and that in itself pushes me clear off of the edge. I come right into his palm and his fingers are slippery as he continues to jack me off, my insides clenching around his dick and attempting to pump him into completion.
I moan loud enough for it to echo throughout our entire estate, and his lips move up to my throat to start passionately kissing the skin. His hips move into a fervent rolling motion, knocking his waist forward as he pushes his tip in as deep as it can go.
My head dips back and rests on his broad shoulder and he tilts his face and kisses my mouth as he comes for the second time.
Our tongues tangle messily as we swallow each other's moans, lips smacking and hearts hammering, his body stopping all movement down below as he enjoys the taste of me as he piques.
We kiss for an unknown amount of time as we both love it so much, and when we finally detach I let the shirt slip off of my body and turn around to wrap my arms around his neck, my knees raw from being ravaged on the hard steps.
"We still have the shower and kitchen and bedroom tonight, don't forget." I smile at him because he's the most handsome man in existence, especially when bathed in the afterglow of amazing sex.
"You're really starved for it tonight, aren't you?"
"Well I should be, it's only been three weeks since you've made love to me."
His eyebrows furrow and he grabs me by the waist and looks at me like I'm crazy.
"We did it three days ago. Not three weeks. In the entirety of our marriage there has not been three weeks that have passed without me touching you."
"Shh, shut up. Let's go upstairs. Carry me I can barely walk."
Okay so I lied it wasn't three weeks it was three days but can you really blame me?
No. You can't.
..