Speaker 1: It's Wednesday, September tenth, in time for your daily fock.
Speaker 1: The world has been reduced to the four walls of
Speaker 1: this cabin. Outside, a cold autumn wind howls through the
Speaker 1: pine trees, But in here the only sound is the
Speaker 1: steady crackle and pop of the fire. We're lying on
Speaker 1: our stomachs on a thick, bare skin rug, sharing a
Speaker 1: single glass of whiskey, our bodies wrapped in a heavy
Speaker 1: wool blanket. The firelight pinks flickering golden patterns on my
Speaker 1: husband David's face, catching the silver in his beard and
Speaker 1: the deep familiar lines around his eyes. We've been married
Speaker 1: for twelve years. We don't need to fill the silence
Speaker 1: with chatter. The silence is the point. It's a comfortable,
Speaker 1: sacred space we've built together, a fortress against the noise
Speaker 1: of the outside world. He reaches out and Jimmy tucks
Speaker 1: astray strand of hair behind my ear. His cow's fingers
Speaker 1: warm against my skin. His touch is as familiar to
Speaker 1: me as my own, but tonight, in the dancing firelight,
Speaker 1: it feels charged with a new, deliberate tenderness. He leans
Speaker 1: over and kisses me. It's not the hungry demanding kiss
Speaker 1: of a new lover, but something far more potent. It's
Speaker 1: a slow, deep, unhurried kiss that speaks of a decade
Speaker 1: of shared secrets, of battles, one of a passion that
Speaker 1: has simmered and deepened with time. The taste of whiskey
Speaker 1: and wood smoke is on his tongue. When he pulls back,
Speaker 1: his eyes are dark with a look I know better
Speaker 1: than my own name. It's a look of pure, unadulterated love,
Speaker 1: sharpened by the keen edge of desire. In that silent,
Speaker 1: perfect moment, I decide that the fire in the hearth
Speaker 1: isn't the only one that would be keeping us born tonight. Wordlessly,
Speaker 1: the heavy blanket falls away. The heat from the fire
Speaker 1: washes over my bare back, raising goose bumps on my skin.
Speaker 1: He moves with a slow, washipful reverence, his eyes never
Speaker 1: leaving mine as he unbuttons my flannel shirt, his fingers
Speaker 1: tracing the line of my collarbone in the flickering light.
Speaker 1: I do the same for him, my hands rediscovering the hard,
Speaker 1: familiar landscape of his chest. There's no rush, There's only
Speaker 1: the fire, the storm outside, and us. He gently rolls
Speaker 1: me onto my back, the fur of the rug, soft
Speaker 1: and decadent against my skin. He positions himself over me,
Speaker 1: his strom body a welcome weight. He looks down at me,
Speaker 1: his face eliminated by the flames, and I see everything there,
Speaker 1: our history, our future, in this perfect, incandescent present. He
Speaker 1: kisses me and it moves down and kisses him, lightly,
Speaker 1: sucks one of my nipples. He starts to move downward
Speaker 1: when I squeeze his shoulder. No, I just want to
Speaker 1: feel you inside me. It's his rugged nod, an affectionate
Speaker 1: smile that does it. All these years and just a
Speaker 1: single look and get me wet. I love foreplay, sucking him,
Speaker 1: him licking me. I stun all kinds of fun and
Speaker 1: passionate things in the bedroom, but the thought of him
Speaker 1: inside me still fills me with a burning fire. His
Speaker 1: eyes never leave mine as he enters me. I've love that.
Speaker 1: Just as I love and passion can get me wet,
Speaker 1: it gets him hard too. He slides in, slow and deep.
Speaker 1: He stops and means doubt and kisses me. We passionately kiss,
Speaker 1: our tongues dancing while his cock is inside me, A slow,
Speaker 1: perfect joining, but feels as familiar as my own heartbeat
Speaker 1: and as thrilling as the very first time. He pulls
Speaker 1: back and we stare into each other's eyes as he
Speaker 1: moves with a deep, languid rhythm, a pace born of
Speaker 1: absolute confidence and a perfect knowledge of my body. This
Speaker 1: isn't just sex, it's us becoming one. With every slow,
Speaker 1: deliberate thrust, he sang everything we no longer need words for.
Speaker 1: I love you, I see you, I desire you. I
Speaker 1: meet his gaze, my hands tracing the muscles of his back.
Speaker 1: I lift my legs and wrap them around his waist,
Speaker 1: pulling us closer in him deeper. I am completely and
Speaker 1: utterly his. The pleasure builds not like a fire, but
Speaker 1: like a rising tide, a slow, inevitable swell of heat
Speaker 1: and sensation. The climax isn't a sudden, sharp explosion, but
Speaker 1: a deep, shuddering release that we fall into together. My
Speaker 1: name is a prayer on his lips as I feel
Speaker 1: his release deep inside me. I've shared orgasm, a silent,
Speaker 1: perfect testament to the love that fuels this fire. He
Speaker 1: doesn't pull out. We just hold each other, with him
Speaker 1: inside me for as long as possible, neither one of
Speaker 1: us wanting to be parted. We stay like that for
Speaker 1: a long time, tangled together on the rug, the blankets
Speaker 1: pulled back over our slick, cooling bodies. We don't speak.
Speaker 1: We just watched the flames dance and listen to the
Speaker 1: wind howl. The fire and the hearth will eventually burn
Speaker 1: down to embers, but this heat, the one between us,
Speaker 1: will last forever