The other afternoon B and I were stretched out on the sofa just enjoying the time spent together when all of a sudden he did it…one small touch sent sparks to my nipples and I groaned. Not one of the quiet as a mouse groans but the kind that radiate deep below your belly in that soft and slightly wet place that knows you are suddenly exploding into sexual awakening and just wants to help get you in the mood…quickly!
“What was that noise?” Andre yells down from the family room upstairs. “Did someone step on the dogs tail again?”
Oh, God, please …. NO. Stay upstairs. JUST STAY UPSTAIRS.
B reaches for me and all the struggles of the past year seem to melt away. I am happy that we still have this lovely hot connection. A place where we can “get into” each other once again and let our hurts vanish for awhile.
B starts to put the tease on me. His kisses yield my body and I melt into him. He begins brushing me softly and then with slightly more pressure, so that my back arches higher, wanting to him to reach those high places that often get ignored. Another audible sigh starts in my toes with its attending electrical current snapping awake those parts of my body that are still in “kid induced limbo” and escapes from my lips…”ohhhhh…myyyyy” I whisper with delight and a sense of impatience. To borrow a phrase from my friend, Marvin Gaye, “Lets get it on!”
B gets the hint and whispers “Come on baby, lets go upstairs.” I consider the odds of completing this fantasia while our children are awake. One kid, the most perceptive one is gone. According to my calculations that gives us delightfully low only 661/3% chance of being interrupted or “caught.” A bookie would faint with those odds at this house. I quickly decide its a chance I can live with. I even let the dog in the house so he won’t be barking and whinning at the door surely killing this arson-setting spark that we have set of which has the possibility of setting this place on fire.
“Ohhhh…Myyyyy!”
This feels like the old days. The Lets See What You Are Made Of kinds of days. They are those raw, needy, urgent, life affirming, first coming together moments of young ferocious sex. That kind that shakes you down to your core and tears open you heart with the kind of lust that has enough energy to change to course of rivers and perhaps even part the Red Sea.
I would like to say we made it to the comfort of our bed but I can’t. The bathroom provided multiple view points and B is harder than the granite countertop that I laying across. My legs grip B like a cowgirl riding bareback, calves against his muscular flank. I must say I was tempted to make a dramatic sweep to clear the counter but I will confess that the thought of what it would cost to replace my Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue (my ONLY expensive I WANT TO FUCK YOUR LIGHTS OUT scent) and my favorite #242 lipstick made me hold back instead of sail. I was filled with him… all of him. My head.. with sexy “take me now” thoughts of him. My nose… with the musky scent of his body. My eyes… taking in the delightful naked sight of him taking in me, and well, those other parts too. It was hot but with a children-are-in-the-house type of seductive quiet. It was oh-so-sexy and desperately needed.
Everything was perfect…until the dog started howling. Loud, long, and off-key. A fingernails on the blackboard sound.
“Andre,” I manage to pant/yell from the bathroom. “Please go let the dog in.”
I hear the door slide open and the howling stops. But we continue on for as long as age, children in the house, and howling dogs let you. And I am reminded once again…this is why I married this man!
Later, in the evening Andre looks at me with a blush on his cheeks and a grin on his face. He is one of the smartest people I know and the autism just adds to it because he recognizes things and tunes into things that most of us don’t.
“Mom, did you and Dad have a good time this afternoon?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know this afternoon when the dog was howling.”
“I’m sorry I don’t understand”
“Haven’t you figured out yet that every time you and Dad have sex the dog howls?” he replies with a laugh. ” I’ve noticed he’s been howling quite a bit lately.”
Now it is my turn to blush.
Damn dog!
I have no idea why you write about love and marriage. You should be writing porn.
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I am kind of shy. If I really wrote what I am thinking, I think I would be banned from WordPress. BTW, a girlfriend of mine who likes spicy romance novels begs me to write for her and sometimes I do.
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So should you. We can write a book together called Transatlantic Porn!
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let’s do it.
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Then don’t write it on wordpress
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Okay, I will just keep writing in my mind!
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No I mean put it somewhere else for us all to read!!!! Hahahaa im not saying I don’t want to read more risqué. I’m saying screw WordPress!!!!
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