The Date

There was no pretense this evening. No asking, no hinting, no wondering.

We both knew what was going to happened.

It had been an unusual amount of time between intimate moments. At least for us. We can go days, sometimes a week or two. But this was even longer.

Jobs, family events, travel, sickness, and just life in general had intruded. Our intimacy was limited to hand holding, cuddles, hugs, and kisses. But we knew we wanted more.

So this time we planned it. We made a date.  We reminded each other of it, put it on the calendar, and made preparations.

The evening started with a dinner at a sit-down restaurant. No drive thru for us!

My wife wore a nice dress, stockings, and heels. I was attired in slacks and an open collar shirt.

It was a great meal and a little hand holding in between. We left the restaurant and drove to a secluded spot along the river that runs along the town’s side. It was dusk.

What started as just hand holding and pleasant conversation unexpectedly turned into much more. We became teenagers again.

Little kisses became deep, passionate, tongue-winding kisses. Hands found their way underneath clothing. My wife undid my pants’ zipper and began to stroke my erection. My hands slid up her thighs, my fingers worked their way around her underwear and rubbed her opening.

The sounds and smells of passion filled the vehicle. It was steamy and sensual.

My wife pulled away from me just slightly, whispering, “We need to go home or we won’t make it.”

Reluctantly, we pulled ourselves somewhat together and headed home. I may not have broken the speed limit driving home that night, but I was close.

We got home and walked into the living room, my wife ahead of me. I pulled her close and started to kiss her neck from behind. As I did that, my hands swept up from her thighs to her breasts and down again. My wife arched her back into me to provide better access.

She led me to the bedroom where she lit three candles. We watched each other slowly undressed. Then we tightly hugged each other, my erection pressed up against her thigh. We stood there, rubbing each other’s backs, not saying anything.

I finally walked her to the bed where she laid down. As I joined her, she grabbed my hand and said, “Take your time. I want us to last as long as we can.”

In bed, we laid on our sides looking at each other. We used our hands to rub each other’s bodies — arms, shoulders, and backs. She stroked my erection. I used my fingers to circle her nipples.

Laying my wife on her back, her head was propped on pillows, her legs were open. I began to kiss her nipples while I started to rub the rose between her legs.

A rhythm was established. Nibble and rub. Nibble and rub. Slow and steady. I took my time and my wife started to respond. Her breathing became more labored, and she started to squirm. She began to softly moan.

The moans became louder. The pace of my nibbling and rubbing went faster. Finally, my wife’s body began to twitch as she reached the height of intimacy. She held on tight to me as wave after wave washed over her. It felt wonderful to have satisfied her.

As my wife relaxed again, I positioned myself between her legs. She reached down and gently pulled my shaft towards her entrance.

“Take your time,” she whispered as she guided me into her. “I want you to finish in me.”

I started slowly, pushing all the way in and then pulling almost all the way out. My wife and I locked eyes on each other.

In due time, my pace started to quicken, and the strokes became shorter. I felt the surge rise in me. My wife had one leg wrapped around me to hold me tight. Her hands were on my sides to keep me steady.

She could tell I was close. “Keep going my dear, keep going.”

Finally, I could hold out no longer. I called out her name as the contents of my shaft flowed into her. My wife hung onto me as the final drops passed from me to her.

When we had finished and were cuddled together, my wife kissed my chest. She said, “We need to do these dates more often.”