Fast-food anniversary

Our twenty-fourth anniversary was full of surprises, some good and some not.  We had a tradition of celebrating with another couple, so we made plans to meet them for dinner in a nearby town.  Our friendship, which spanned several years, grew and deepened after they came to faith in Jesus Christ.  Their daughters, who frequently babysat our kids, embraced the faith first, and that undoubtedly had a big influence on their parents.

You’ll understand, then, what a disappointment it was when, one night before our anniversary, they called to cancel our dinner engagement.  Relatives were making an unexpected visit and would only be in town for that one evening.  They asked if we could come down for coffee before their guests arrived, so we drove the forty miles and spent about half an hour with them.  My wife and I marveled over their rapid growth in the faith and their excitement about Jesus.  What a great visit it was, in spite of the shortened agenda!

We agreed to reschedule our celebration, so my bride and I decided against splurging on a big dinner that night.  Instead, we drove to a nearby fast-food restaurant, where we held hands and flirted over sloppy hamburgers.  We joked that, even when we were dead broke in the early years of our marriage, we managed something better than fast food on our anniversaries.  I secretly worried that the less-than-romantic setting would result in a less-than-romantic aftermath in the bedroom.

As we drove back home, all of the coffee and soft drinks caught up with me, so I pulled off the highway at a secluded overlook conveniently surrounded by trees.  Traffic was light at that time of night and we had the overlook to ourselves.  After making a brief trip into the trees, I returned to our custom van and, on a whim, entered through the back door.  I suggested to my wife that we make like teenagers and spend a little time on the plush back seat.

Now, you have to know this woman to understand the context.  If you asked our friends for adjectives to describe her, three of them undoubtedly would be “godly”, “conservative” and “reserved.”  That explains why I expected a good-natured scolding accompanied by a lecture on the likelihood of being discovered by a state patrolman.

Instead, she hit the release lever on her captain’s chair and swiveled to face me.  With a mischievous smile on her face, she made a big production of lifting her hips and snaking her panties down her long legs.  I was momentarily stunned, but recovered quickly and scrambled to pull the back seat down into its reclined position.  I sat down and watched her slowly rise from her captain’s chair and sway back between the middle seats.  As she approached me, she slowly lifted her skirt, prompting a rapid increase in my heart rate and an almost instantaneous erection.

By the time she reached me, the hem of her skirt was at waist level and I was in danger of hyperventilating.  She smiled down and pushed me backward onto my elbows, with my hips and legs extended over the edge of the seat.  Her eyes never left mine as she glided forward, her legs straddling my thighs, and leaned down to brush her lips across my own – feather-soft and fire-hot.  She sat on my thighs… dancing eyes inviting me to join her intrigue … nimble fingers dropping to work my pants loose.  There was an urgency in her movements as she slid backward along my thighs, pulling my pants and underwear with her.

I expected that she would need some time to warm up, but she slid back up across my bare legs, leaned into me and engulfed me in wet heat.  Her breath caught … her eyes closed … ecstasy rose over her beautiful features like an erotic blush.  My arousal was so profound that I feared I might climax immediately.  It was so much more than just the physical connection!  Love flowed off her and pooled around me, cleansing my wounds, obliterating my worries.  There was a poignancy in our gratitude to the Father that transcended language – a comprehension reserved only for such moments as this.  It was an intuitive recognition that the physical love of a Christian man and wife is closely akin to an act of worship.

I had to see her magnificent breasts!  My hands rose to the buttons of her dress, but she brushed them away with an apologetic smile.  Her godly modesty still hovered in the background, reminding her that someone could drive up at any moment.  That risk was part of the excitement, but also a reason to be sure she could recover quickly in the event of an interruption.

I could not imagine I would last long, but the position allowed her to control our movements and she expertly held me on the brink.  She teased me with little kisses, then sat back upright and slowly undulated on me.  I could not stand it!  I fell backward and arched into her, but she moved with me, minimizing my thrusts.  I tried to capture her hips, but she placed her hands on her thighs and blocked my efforts.  I rocked forward in a half sit-up and tried again for her breasts, but she leaned away from me.  The whole time, that regal smile tantalized me, as she lovingly drove me crazy.

When I was sure I could take no more, she leaned forward and thrust her tongue into my mouth with breathtaking ferocity.  Then, she sat up, smiled at me again and rose to her feet.  As her skirt slid along my thighs, she whispered, “Let’s take this home, so I can get naked.”
After a moment of stunned disappointment, I understood that neither the position nor the situation was conducive to her full involvement.  I rushed to rearrange myself and sped home to a glorious celebration of our anniversary – but even the Song of Solomon held some moments private.