Carrying the desserts from the kitchen, Jan said, “John Jr. and Amy are spending the weekend with my parents. They’ll be back late Sunday night.”
What could I say. She fixed my favorite dinner like she used to do when she wanted me to make love to her and the kids were going to be away all weekend. The cloud of imminent doom hanging over my head like a dark ominous storm cloud lifted. I have never stopped wanting to make love to Jan. I missed making love to Jan. I missed having her warn soft body nestled next to mine these nine years.
My ex-wife sent our children packing with her parents, closed the door behind them. I heard the deadbolt click into place. She came back to the table taking the seat catercorner to me. Our knees touched sending a warm feeling up to my groin. She reached out and tentatively placed her hand on my arm. I felt Jan’s warmth through my shirt. My fingertips caressed the back of her hand as it rested on my arm. I felt the pulse in her vein on the back of her hand quicken at my touch. She caressed my lips with the fingertips of her other hand. I kissed her fingertips. We acted like two teenagers expressing the first tentative expressions of caring for each other. I pulled her towards me and kissed her, softly at first then deeper as our passions rose. She matched my passion with her own emerging passion as I knew she would.
Jan looked into my eyes. “We should never have divorced.” I remained silent. She had something on her mind and she needed to say it; needed to get the words out. “I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”
“I’ve always known you loved me. I knew it the night before our divorce when Jan wanted to make love to me one more time, for the last time. I knew it the next day when we kissed on the courthouse steps and I saw it every time I looked into your eyes since then. I love you too,” Jan caressed my cheek.
She took my hand from hers and paced it on her left breast over her dress. For Jan putting my hand on her breast was a monumental step forward. I squeezed it gently. I felt her heart pounding through the dress. We kissed again. I slipped my hand from on top of her dress to under her dress and held her full, firm bare breast in the palm of my hand. Jan offered no resistance. I felt her nipple grow at my touch and become hard like the little pebble I remembered. She moaned in pleasure. She wrapped her arms around me pulling me tightly to her and kissed me pushing her tongue between my teeth. I kissed back.
Without a word Jan stood, took my hand, pulled me to my feet and led us to our former bedroom. A slight smile appeared on her face. She neglected to close the bedroom door. At the foot of our bed she stopped, turned and faced me. Jan wrapped her arms around me and kissed me. It was either now or never. Either something very positive would happen or something very negative. The only way to wait and see how things developed. Either I would crash and burn or we’d soar to the heavens like the eagles. Either way things would be different after tonight.
Words were unnecessary. I reached around her, found the dress’s zipper tab and lowered it slowly south. I heard the individual zipper teeth click as they came apart. She kissed me again, a resounding yes kiss. I slipped the dress off her shoulders and let it slide down her body and pool around her red stiletto heels. Jan stood totally naked, totally beautiful before me. I stepped back and took in her beauty. Her breasts were large, round and full with just the slightest trace of gravity’s work. I found her breasts highly erotic. Her legs shapely, her backside firm, round and creamy white in the semi-darkened room. Jan was just as I remembered from the night before we got divorced. My wife stood before me just as I remembered. Just as I fantasized. Just as I dreamed all these long, lonely years.
Her lips smiled. Her eyes smiled. A person can fake happy with a false smile but a person can’t fake happy smiling eyes. Jan was happy, at least right now in this place.
She started to slowly unbutton my shirt taking her time, drawing out the pleasure she I saw in her eyes. She pushed the shirt from my shoulders and let if fall to the floor. She lifted my tee shirt over my head and threw it across the room. A sensuous laugh escaped her lips. She unfastened my belt, unbuttoned and unzipped my fly, hooked her thumbs into the waist band of my slacks and skivvies and pushed them down over my hips. They pooled around my feet. We both stood there naked facing each other. I stood at attention,
I smiled at Jan, she smiled back. I pulled her close. She rubbed her breasts against my chest, her nipples again turned to hard little stones. Our hands ran over each other’s body. Jan’s body felt soft and warm to my touch. Her hands felt comfortable on my body and her body felt comfortable under my touch. It was as if our hands belonged together. As if on cue our hands reached between each other’s legs as if by instinct, by memory. My ex-wife moaned in pleasure at my soft touch. We fell onto the bed and made love.
We made love twice more before falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. It was good to be home.
The sun streaming in the open window the next morning awoke us still wrapped in each other’s arms. A momentary look of embarrassment came across my wife’s face. I kissed her good morning and the look disappeared. Jan sat up the sheet falling to her lap. She didn’t attempt to cover her naked breasts as she used to do. She pulled me down on top of her, kissed me deeply and we made love once again.
We laid on our backs, hands interlocked, waiting for our breathing to return to normal. I wondered what would come in the light of day. Do we go on or do we go back to the way things were before last night’s dinner.
Jan sat up allowing the sheet to fall to her lap. “Hungry?”
“Yes,” I reached for her hand and tried to pull her back down on the bed.
She smiled. “I mean for food.”
“Food’s good,” I said. She reached for my hand and led me to the kitchen. My wife walked naked down the hall. She would never walk around the house without covering herself with some sort of clothing. She told me to sit at the kitchen table while she made breakfast. She looped an apron over her head and tied the strings behind her. The apron protected her front from cooking splatters but her backside was open for my perusal and peruse I did. My wife’s backside is a work of art, full and round; a thing of beauty and very enticing.
She made my favorite breakfast and set it on the table. She took off the apron and sat next to me.
Breakfast finished she spoke up. “I had a problem before being in the nude in front of you. I wasn’t comfortable. My mother brought me up to be modest. She told me the night before our wedding that I should never let you see me naked. She said it would turn you into a sex fiend. I believed her. She was my mother and I was young and didn’t know any better. I came a virgin to our marriage bed. I’d bet my father never saw my mother naked either. She also told me that it’s the husband who wanted sex and that it would be my duty as your wife to give in to you.” I reached for her hand and she intertwined her fingers around mine. “As we started making love, I wanted you as badly as you wanted me. I just couldn’t bring myself to take the first step. My mother kept interfering in our bedroom.”
“I knew you knew. I started making you your favorite dinners when I wanted sex. I’d stand within your reach available for your touch, wanting your touch. Finally you caught on. I did it again last night only for last night I bought a sexy red dress and shoes to try, as the kids say today, turn you on. I dressed the whore for you,” she said, a tear rolling down her cheek.
I caressed her cheek. “You dressed like a lover would for her man. You looked beautiful last night. You looked sexy, very provocative in that dress. You look beautiful this morning. I remembered you cooking my favorites as a prelude to our making love. I could hardly keep my hands off of you I wanted you so badly. I’ve wanted you every Friday night for nine years,” I said.