Sun-Kissed Reveries

It was late August. The afternoon sun rays were once again warming our favorite sitting room loveseat. I really shouldn’t say “our,” as “we” hadn’t enjoyed each other on that loveseat for years. It had become just another piece of furniture. Only in late August did it become physically warm to the touch from the sun’s rays – something about the tilt of the earth, or the angle of the skylights in our West-facing ceiling, or both. At least that’s what the builder told me. All I knew was, our sitting room was once again luminous and inviting. The intimate warmth radiating from our loveseat was beckoning – and as usual, my wife was nowhere to be found. Not that it mattered. For a few years now, even when we were physically in the same room, there was distance. Her absenteeism had become rather convenient.

Now when alone, it had become a natural progression for me to kick off my shoes, peel off my socks, and slowly disrobe. Masturbating was soothing. Phenomenal sensations would flood my body there on that loveseat, all in the bright warm sunlight. I’d wedge one of the two large cushy pillows behind my back. The other fit just under my knees. Placing my left leg up on the back of the loveseat somehow made me feel even more open and vulnerable. The loveseat never rebuffed me. Remembering the close times my wife and I had enjoyed on that loveseat mollified the isolation I was feeling these days. We had allowed separateness to creep into our marriage. Lost in my thoughts and sensations, I failed to hear the garage door go up. “Click” The door latch unfastened. Quickly grabbing my clothing and shoes, I ran to the bathroom. I felt cheap. Selfish. Alone. This sex without her was going to have to stop. I’m not totally obnoxious. It’s just that everything I had tried in our marriage hadn’t brought us any closer. And I had tried a lot – books, counseling, dancing, exercise, even praying together. She had fallen asleep in the middle of my short prayer. What does it mean to submit to one another? When I looked up the word submit, it said to be subordinate. Being the man of the house, that made no sense to me. Was I supposed to be submissive to my wife? She’d spend even less time with me if I were spineless! I have to admit, though, what I had been doing wasn’t working, and hadn’t worked in years. Something needed changing in my thinking, and in my doing.

Love her as your body is what it says. I was good at that – loving my body. If she could see me on our loveseat, she’d know that already. I hated running and hiding when the sound of the garage door would interrupt my self-sessions. It would be so much more satisfying to enjoy masturbating with her on the loveseat, or in our shower, or practically anywhere she wanted! Surely a woman enjoys pleasuring herself too, though I’d never actually seen her savor her body. Maybe someday we could mutually savor each other. It seemed like a reasonable desire for a married couple. But that’s all it was – a long given-up desire – an unrealistic dream.

Genuinely loving someone is challenging. When I looked up the word love, it tells you a whole bunch of things it’s not. I thought you weren’t supposed to define things with negatives. No matter. Love doesn’t envy. Check. Love doesn’t boast. Check. Love isn’t proud… well… maybe check. Love doesn’t dishonor others. Mmmm, I’m not sure about that one either. Love is not self-seeking. Ouch! I’m pretty sure I was failing at that one. Who was I kidding? She probably could sense I preferred her absence so that I could delight in myself without her. Even to my blind eyes, that appeared to be self-seeking – self-serving – just plain selfish. And it always left an empty feeling. I don’t know why I continued for so long. Yes, something needed changing in my thinking, and in my doing.

My wife works hard. Everybody loves her at the office. She’s always helping somebody. It’s what gives her identity. She genuinely is a great woman. Her compassion is what I love most about her. That’s why I married her. But she usually arrives home exhausted. I mean, it makes sense why she’s so spent in the evening – kind of. Maybe this was an area that I could start my changing. But how?

Divine inspiration, that’s how. I needed some, so that’s what I asked for. My wife works as a dental assistant and is always bringing home samples. Recently she had brought home one of those vibrating toothbrushes. Ultrasonic is what it said. It worked great on your teeth. I suspected it would work well other places too. The garage door was going up. In less than a minute, she would be walking through the door. I did some quick preparations. The doorknob was turning… “Darling! How was your day sweetheart?” Looking her in the eyes, I gave my most sincere smile, my best shot. “Long.” She was checking text messages she hadn’t had time to get to yet.

“Are you hungry? Let me fix you some dinner.” I tried to make it look like I knew my way around the kitchen. “I’m not hungry.” She was sitting now, obviously worn out from her day.

“Let me draw you an early shower baby.” She raised her brows at me like I was going to burn her or something. “Seriously babe, you look exhausted. Let me take care of you.” It had been a long time since she had heard those words from my lips. Understandably, she was hesitant. I reached for her hand and led her to our bathroom. I was becoming aroused. That seemed odd to me.

“Here are two towels, one for your hair, and one for your body.” She’s always preferred two towels. And for years, I had complained about her using two when one would suffice. Handing her favorite hair conditioner to her, I voiced, “You’ll need this too.” At this point, she was just studying me. We may have been married for 16 years, but her eyes revealed she thought she was living with a different man. Little did she know, she was.

Our shower is built for two, but we had stopped using it together years ago. Mirrors surround the inside walls. Humidity quickly condenses on the outer glass door when she showers. Intermittently, I would use my fingers to draw hearts, and write I love you notes on the foggy glass. This allowed me to see her clearer too. Her feminine, curvaceous body is so different than mine – so beautiful. I need to tell her more often. It was now or never. Inhaling deeply and fully clothed, I stepped in.

“What are you doing?” she asked incredulously.

“I’m here to take care of you,” I smiled reassuringly. My clothes rapidly became saturated from the shower spray. Stooping, I began to wash her feet with firm, solid massaging movements.

“With your clothes on?”

“Oh, did I forget to take these off?” Quickly I slipped out of them so we could be naked together. By concentrating, I was able to avoid an all-out erection. “Your legs are gorgeous Love.” Kneeling, I began to wash her calves, first one, and then the other. She allowed me to. That was progress.

“Uh huh, so you’ve said before. Although it’s been a long time since you told me.”

“Too long darling.” I glanced up at her, now washing her curvaceous thighs. She had closed her eyes. Her tone had softened. She seeming to be enjoying the attention – no, needing the attention. Carefully I massaged her left inner thigh. She widened in stance slightly. I had forgotten just how beautiful her ass is. Standing carefully, while continuing to firmly massage her high inner thigh, I turned her, so she faced the mirrored shower wall. Her breasts were feminine and full. Next, I raised her arms so she could lean comfortably against the mirrored wall. My two fingers had begun to tease her hidden vault. Her pelvis rotated back slowly to give me better access. Oh yeah, this was progress. God, she could be sexual. Why hadn’t I noticed? It was now or never. Inhaling deeply, I began to slowly and deliberately stroke her entire body, from her head to her toes. My touch was firm, confident, and sensual. Her skin tingled. Her breath grew faster. Her eyes fluttered closed. She was completely lost in my touch. Her body arched slightly as my hand moved down her stomach. Then, as my fingers continued to explore her, she let out a moan. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. Reaching for her hips, I began to grind against her, feeling the heat build up between us. Her hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me closer. With a final, desperate gasp, she bit down hard on my neck. It was the sensation she had been craving all along. Her wetness was a welcome sensation. My body was responding with heat. The moisture was so intense. I wanted to lose myself in her pleasure, but I knew I had to be careful. My arousal was building quickly. It was hard to control, but I managed to keep myself grounded. I held her close, feeling her heartbeat against my chest. We remained motionless for a few moments, savoring the intimacy. Then, slowly, I began to pull away, giving her a chance to recover. She opened her eyes, a faint smile playing on her lips. “That was… amazing,” she whispered. A single tear rolled down her cheek. I knew what she meant. We had broken through the barrier between us. We had rediscovered the passion that had once united us. As I watched her, I realized that I had been so focused on my own desires that I had forgotten what it was like to truly love someone. But now, I was determined to change that. I would devote myself entirely to her, and in doing so, we would rebuild our marriage, stronger and more fulfilling than ever before. And as she looked at me with those adoring eyes, I knew that I had finally found my way back to the basics. The basics of love, lust, and life.

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