If We Have Time

It's a while since my wife and I had a night to ourselves because working and parenting occupy all our time, but tonight is a night free from both, so we're getting ready to go out.

I shower first, but we have time, so she takes a bath. She watches me as I stand naked in front of the mirror to shave. Then, she takes the razor to shave her legs. I watch her in the mirror as I brush my teeth. Distracted, I push the brush too far in and gag. She laughs and says, if we have time, she'll show me how it's done.

I bend to give her a quick kiss, but she likes the way my mouth tastes, so it becomes something deeper. I can't hide my rising excitement -- not that I ever have to hide it from her -- and in this case, she wants to do something about it, soapy fingers encouraging me to hardness. Maybe we have time, but if she does what she just suggested, it won't take long.

Water sloshes as she moves to lean over the side of the bath with a determined look. She wraps her hand and lips around my cock, and I'm at her mercy. She holds my gaze as she takes me into her throat. It's longer and thicker than the toothbrush, at least, but she handles it as well as ever, even if she doesn't get as much practice these days.

Her hands touch me in interesting places while she works her mouth on me, and my fingers twist in her hair. I can make myself last longer when I'm in control, but when she takes charge, I don't stand a chance. She knows my body as well as I do, and when I tell her I'm about to come, she's ready for me, and I tremble and worship her name as she swallows everything I give her. She says there was more than she expected as she wipes her mouth. Maybe it's been too long, but, damn, it felt good.

I want to make her feel good too, but she wants to get out of the bath before she turns into a prune. I sweep her up in a towel and carry her to our bed. I lay her on top of the towel, but water droplets don't hinder me as I move my lips over her smooth skin. She smells of lavender bubble bath as I press my face between her legs. I tease her with my tongue and fingers before I devour her. I know how to bring her off quickly, but I take my time, and I know she loves me for it.

The sounds she makes tell me when she's close and I don't tease anymore, sending her urgently over the edge.

We both want more. If only we had time.

We agree. I call the restaurant to cancel our table while she orders food on the app.

We make love while we wait. She comes quicker the second time. I last longer.

I dress enough to answer the door when the food arrives, while she returns to the bathroom to clean up again. I pour two glasses of wine, and we eat dinner straight from the cartons while we half watch the first episode of that show everyone's been talking about that we haven't had time for. Dinner is no less delicious than it would have been if eaten at a candlelit table, surrounded by strangers. Clearing up after is as simple as dropping things into the correct bins.

We pay no more attention to the second episode of that show while we make out like teenagers on the sofa and whisper about the things we want to do to each other. We return to the bedroom to act out those fantasies.

We make love in as many ways as we can imagine. I give her everything I can, and she gives me anything I ask. We take our time until we can't help ourselves, slow passion giving way to desperate need. We hold nothing back as we give ourselves to the moment, and come together, entwined, gasping and shuddering against each other.

We lie together, satisfied.

Tomorrow, we'll be asked what we did. We'll say we got takeaway, watched TV, and had an early night.

We talk about where we'll go for dinner when we next have a night to ourselves. We may even go, if we have time.