Second Weekend in October

As Tish and Boyd headed home after the annual retreat, refreshed in their love for each other, she reflected on the wonderful and spectacular sabbatical, designed to renew their love.

It had begun on the second Friday evening in October, as tradition dictated. They'd traveled eighty miles north to the rural antebellum mansion, now transformed into a sumptuous bed & breakfast and restaurant choked with antiques evoking the gentility of a century now long passed. The matron at the front desk greeted them with the warmth reserved for returning guests, and they'd been given their customary room with bright wallpaper of yellow roses, high bed adorned with Amish quilt and the sunroom with a Jacuzzi big enough for three but meant only for two overlooking the placid lake. It was dark, of course, the sun setting earlier and earlier this time of year, and after quickly settling the contents of the suitcases into closets and drawers Tish ushered Boyd to the informal bar for a cocktail and appetizers. She recognized after all these years he would be less fidgety with a morsel in his stomach, and they wolfed the portions, both anxious to return to the warmth of the suite.

When they regained their privacy, while Tish prepared herself in the bathroom Boyd lit candles and when she returned to him, they began the foreplay. For nearly an hour they kissed, petted usually hidden portions of the bodies, massaged and titillated each other until at last they could stand no more and linked in the ancient rite of intercourse. As he always did that first instance, and Tish encouraged him, Boyd took charge and the coupling was physical, nearly brutal. They'd banged their pelvises together for the single purpose of bringing each other off, and the massive orgasms that resulted fatigued them.

Then, according to the traditions they'd developed, it was time for a bath, the water approaching scalding and filled with bubbles. Boyd leaned on the wall of the tub, created a nest with his arms and legs, and Tish reclined upon his chest. A bottle of Italian sparkling wine, cheese and crackers were nearby to satisfy the cravings of the palate. Hands roamed under the water, once or twice Tish was teased to further explosions, and under her ministrations Boyd pleasantly regained his firmness. As the water cooled more warmth was poured into the pool, and they left the heat only when they noticed the webs growing between their fingers.

In the burrow of the bed the lovebirds united once again, this time gently, until Boyd's breathing became sharp and labored and he released for the second time that evening deep within her. Tish, of course, with the gift given to women who knew their bodies, had been on the mountain of satisfaction long before it was Boyd's turn. In the delight of the experience, both candles and consciousness winked out.

After nine hours of rest, the duo awoke together and, following another bout of pleasant physicality, the phone was reached for and breakfast was ordered to be served in the bedroom. Muffins and berries and fruit juice and rich butter and scalding coffee with whole cream and raw sugar. With crumbs in the bed, the couple trifled with each other again, and afterwards with the sun high in the firmament, they dressed in warm garments and left the room for more traditional exercise.

Through the sculpted gardens of the property they strolled down to the lake, with the fallen, arid leaves making scratching sounds as they swept upon the pavement in the breeze. From the boathouse a canoe was retrieved, and they skimmed over the water looking for the place they'd found by accident years ago. It was an ancient grove of pine trees, a mile from any road, surrounded by undergrowth. A huge blanket was spread upon the brown, soft needles, and from his backpack Boyd retrieved a book. Lying with her head on his lap, Tish listened as he read a story of non-fiction, enthused with the subject of heroes of earlier days. And, as was expected, they removed their clothes exposing themselves to God only, and again united their physiques.

After returning to the boathouse and climbing the hill to the mansion, they slipped into the saloon, for their favorite college eleven was opposing a formidable rival. With the other denizens they celebrated touchdowns and rued the other team's lucky plays, he with a mug of ale, she with a concoction of vodka and sapphire liquor they'd invented years previously.

After the conclusion of the game they retired to the room, showered together and dressed for dinner, she taking more time than he, leaving him to loudly proclaim more of the book as she fluffed her hair and painted her nails. In the end it was worth it to him, for she was stunning in her simple black frock and high heels, earrings and necklace of amber, a gift he'd purchased for her on a trip to Eastern Europe.

In the formal dining room the maitre d' escorted them to a table of linen and crystal. The walls displayed a mural of plantation life, the waitress remembered them from prior sabbaticals. He dined on delectable lamb, she on luscious steak, they shared a bottle of vintage Cabernet decanted by the sommelier at the table. A shared desert of poached peach in cream, a glass of port and the lovers departed once again for their hideaway. By now the couple was physically sated - unfortunately, at their age, one may keep the fire burning only so long - but the romance of the situation called for physical closeness. Another long, soothing plunge into the tub, the application of hands and mouths to raw membranes, the ultimate romantic connection, then cherished sleep in the arms of your sweetheart.

The final morning brought another repast in the privacy of the room, quick packing of the lingerie and other clothing, the checkout with the innkeeper ensuring their visit was pleasant, a confirmation that the room would once again be available a year hence.

This was followed by a drive into the nearby aging town and attendance at Mass in an extravagant parish temple that was, during the boom years, considered a cathedral. Lunch was imbibed at a restaurant themed as a hunting lodge, and they stopped at a small market town where Boyd allowed Tish the boon of shopping unfettered by complaints of time wasted.

And now, they were approaching the freeway exit where Tish's automobile had waited the weekend for her, parked in a mall lot. "It was a wonderful weekend," Boyd remarked.

"Wasn't it. Too short, though," Tish agreed.

"Do you think we could get away during February or March, do this again?"

"You know I'd love to, but it could be tough."

"Yes," he concurred, "too many questions would arise."

"But still," she wished, "maybe. Let's think about it."

He lifted her suitcase and purchases from his trunk to hers, embraced and kissed her one last time.

"See you in the office tomorrow!"

As they returned to their respective homes, they both concocted fictions for their spouses of the annual 'conference' they never missed during that second weekend in October.