Like When We Were Newlyweds

Prologue

Sometimes it can be difficult to keep the fire alive in your marriage, especially when you've been together as long as we have. My husband and I got together when we were in high school, but it wasn't at school that we met. My mother had suckered me into being a bible camp counselor one summer, and so had his. At the time, I was innocent and sheltered; not a single inappropriate idea in my head. At least, that's what everyone else thought. By the end of that summer, Joseph knew better.

It's been years since then. We went to college together, then got married. We have kids now; five of them. First were our twins, now in 8^th grade, Jacob, and Emma. We found out about them almost immediately after our honeymoon. That means they were conceived somewhere along the Mediterranean or in the backyard of our first house right after we got back. Mmm, those were such great times... Oh! Uh, anyway, after a weekend in a small town in the mountains we found out about our next set of twins, 10-year-olds, Noah, and Liam. That was a wild time, too. We went there for an apple festival. I still think of how romantic that trip was every time I slice an apple for one of the kids. I can't be sure when our youngest was conceived. It was either during our 10^th anniversary trip to Hawaii, or perhaps it was when we got back and those silk ropes I ordered finally showed up. Either way, we got our sweet little Evelyn out of it.

Unfortunately, Joseph and I don't get to spend a lot of quality alone time together like that anymore. Even though we're both usually home, he's busy with his work, I'm busy with mine, and we're both constantly doing things with the kids. Our lives don't leave a lot of room for romantic time, but we do our best to find it. This time, I had to beg for it. I pestered my mother for weeks until she finally agreed to take all of the kids for a weekend instead of just a few of them, like she usually did. She was reluctant, but "anything for her little Stephanie," she had said. So, Joe and I would get to have a long overdue weekend of fun, relaxation, and passion.

* * * * *

It was Friday afternoon. The kids had come home from school, I had made them a snack, then helped them pack their things for a weekend at grandma and grandpa's house. My mother's van was parked in the driveway as I stood outside watching my husband put the kids' bags in the car. Our youngest, Evelyn, was holding onto me saying that she was going to miss me, and I'd miss her, too, but I was so excited for the weekend ahead, I almost didn't care. Almost. I picked her up, put her in the car, fastened her safely into her car seat, then kissed her on the head. I kissed the rest of the kids goodbye as they piled into the vehicle one by one. Then my husband closed the back, and soon we were waving as they pulled away.

"Bye, kids! We'll miss you!" I shouted after them.

"See you Sunday," Joe added.

Once the car was out of sight, I turned to Joseph with a giant smile on my face.

"They're gone!" I exclaimed.

"Don't sound so excited. They're still our children."

"Yes, but... when was the last time we had enough time for just the two of us? Being all alone with no interruptions; that's why I'm excited. It gets to be just you and me this weekend."

He smiled and said, "I know, honey. I'm excited, too."

He gave me a kiss on the cheek and we went back inside. Sadly, our evening together couldn't start just yet. Joseph had some work he needed to finish. He worked from home designing games and doing freelance programming work. He promised it wouldn't take long, so I decided to spend that time making us dinner and went to the kitchen.

Earlier in the week, I had decided to make one of his favorites for dinner on our first night alone: carbonara with a fresh side salad. I had been grocery shopping in the afternoon, so everything I needed was ready and waiting in the fridge. I filled up a pot and got the water for the pasta going. Next, I got out a large saucepan and placed it on the stove to start heating up. As I pulled out the meat and began to chop it, I wondered when the last time I had gotten to make it more authentically like this had been. Joe's mother had taught me years ago, but I had tweaked the recipe a few times to cater to what the kids would eat.

Cooking for just the two of us also meant I wouldn't be making chicken nuggets because a toddler was refusing anything else, and I wouldn't be making a side of peas and carrots because Noah wouldn't eat anything with salad dressing on it. No one would be wandering into the kitchen complaining that they wanted something else, or hanging onto my legs while I tried to move around the room. Not only could I cook in peace, I could make the food exactly how Joe liked it. This weekend was going to turn out great.

As I slid the pancetta from the cutting board into the pan and it began to sizzle, I started to think about what Joseph and I would be doing later. We had the house all to ourselves for once. We could do anything; anywhere. I felt the first tingles of anticipation between my legs. Anywhere? It had been a long time since we had gotten to do that, too. Back when we first got married, and while our oldest two were still babies, Joe and I had a lot more fun around the house as opposed to just in our bedroom.

Back then, Joe would walk in while I stood in front of the stove like this and slide his arms around me, then look over my shoulder wondering what was for dinner. He'd hold me close and kiss my cheek until I turned around to kiss his lips. Then one thing would lead to another...Now there was always someone nearby: either directly underfoot, or at the table doing their homework. I missed those days, but I wouldn't trade my life now for anything.

I'm a very happy woman, and I love my kids a lot, but every mom needs a break now and then. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? Since Joe was always so close yet so far away, my heart and body were longing for him. I couldn't wait to feel his strong arms wrapped around me, or the softness of his lips. I wanted him to kiss me up and down and feel every inch of my bare skin. Mmm... Ah! The skillet popped at me and I refocused on cooking. I was getting ahead of myself. I needed to finish dinner first.

I moved the meat around with a spatula, put the pasta in the pot to boil, then went to the fridge to start the next step. I pulled out some eggs, cheese, and a few other things, then set everything on the counter. I grabbed a bowl from the cabinet, then cracked all the eggs into it. As I stood there whisking, I thought back to the first time I cooked for Joe. We were still in college then. He had just gotten the news that he'd be able to pursue his major in the fall, and I had invited him over to my place to celebrate while my roommate was out.

I hadn't done a lot of cooking at that point, but I wanted to make something special for him anyway. I had whisked some eggs like I was doing right now trying to make a meringue, not realizing I needed just the whites. It turned out horrible, so I made Joe some cookies instead. He was just happy that I made him something; he didn't care what it was. He was so sweet about it, even though I ended up crying. He pulled me into his lap to hold me and told me that dinner and the cookies had turned out great. He had no way of knowing that dinner wasn't quite right either, and I cried even harder. He wiped my tears, kissed me, and thanked me for thinking of him. That was one of the moments that made me sure he was the one.

What happened after that was really nice, too. We kissed until he picked me up and carried me to my bedroom. Ahh... he was so fierce that day... the way he pounded me into the bed... I felt so much better afterwards. Mmm... Wait! Cooking. Right. I looked down at the bowl in front of me, remembered what I was doing and what I had to do next. I added some pepper and oregano to the eggs, then put some minced garlic in the pan with the meat according to Mrs. Taylor's recipe. I mixed some cheese into the eggs and spices, then went to check on the pasta. It wasn't quite ready, so I was left standing in the middle of the kitchen trying to concentrate on cooking, and not how horny I was getting.

I decided to set the table. I had put a table cloth on the kitchen table earlier this afternoon, but now I was setting down the placemats and utensils. As I thought about what kind of glasses to put out, I remembered a bottle of red wine we'd been saving. I dug around in our lower cabinets for the ice bucket, filled it with ice from the freezer, then set it on the table. I checked on the stove, then went to get the wine from the cabinet above the fridge. I had to get the stool, but if Joe were in here, he probably could have just reached for it.

I put the wine on the ice, placed a wine screw and some wine glasses on the table next to the water glasses, then checked on the pasta which was finally ready. I drained it, and mixed it into the pan with the meat. Then I lowered the heat, took the egg mixture, and poured it over the top. As I started to stir, Joe walked into the kitchen.

"Mmm," he said as he sniffed the air. "It smells really good in here. Is that what I think it is?" he asked as he leaned against the counter.

"It sure is," I said as I turned my head and smiled at him.

"Alright! My favorite. And my favorite woman is cooking it for me," he said as he moved behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

A sigh slipped out of my mouth as I felt his arms tighten around me. Then I fought the urge to moan as I felt the soft warmth of his lips brush against my cheek. I continued to stir with him looking over my shoulder. He hugged me close, kissing softly on my cheek and neck for a few moments before he spoke again.

"You know, being alone like this is almost like being newlyweds again."

"It kind of is," I giggled as he began to nibble at my ear.

It really was like back then. I found it sweet that he was thinking exactly what I had been thinking about earlier. He was so much smoother now, though. The way he could just take my breath away with just a few soft kisses. Ahh, but I was supposed to be stirring right now. If I wasn't careful, the whole thing would be ruined. I focused on the pan in front of me, mixing while holding it off the heat.

I was doing fine until Joe's hands started to wonder around my body. He felt at my waist and hips, running his hands over my jeans and then under my shirt. He wrapped his arms tightly around my bare mid-section and pulled me closer to his body. His grip was so firm. I loved feeling his strength, especially when we made love; it was a huge turn on. Oh... I needed to be careful, and he was not helping. As I set the pan back on the stove, I could feel myself convulsing, and it was a huge distraction. The pasta was almost to the right consistency; just a little bit longer and we could eat.

I felt his warm breath on my ear and let out a soft sigh. His hands slid up my body, still under my shirt, to cup my breasts. He hadn't done anything besides place his hands there, but a moan slipped out of my mouth. As he began to knead them, an even louder sound came out.

"Joey... I'm trying to cook," I moaned.

"I know," he said.

"Come on, I'm almost done... Just let me... ahh!"

His fingers had managed to find my nipples through my bra. As he played with them, I moaned involuntarily, and my knees faltered for a second. He held me steady, and I heard him chuckle. I didn't have to turn around to know he had a smug smile on his face. It was the same arrogant, mischievous, side smile that I had fallen for in the first place.

He smiled at me like that when we met, and I was immediately interested. Back then, the grin was sexy and full of lustful promise; and sure, it meant that now, too, but sometimes, it also got on my nerves. He loved to torment me when I couldn't move like this, and that smile was always plastered on his face as he did it. When I finally turned enough to see his face, I saw that I was right.

"Did that feel nice," he asked me as his smile widened.

I rolled my eyes and blushed.

"Yes, but... Let me finish cooking and you can do whatever you want to me, okay?"

"Hmm... a very tempting offer, but I'm pretty sure you'd let me do whatever I want to you whether I wait for you to finish dinner or not."

He tickled at my sides, and I playfully pushed him away.

"Shut up," I laughed.

He laughed too, then kissed me on the cheek before taking a seat at the kitchen table. If I wasn't cooking right now, I'd find a way to get him back for teasing me like that. It wasn't that I didn't like it, it was just how we were. He'd tease me, I'd get him, and we'd go back and forth. It was a part of our switch dynamic; besides, it was a lot fun. I'd have to think of some way to edge him on later to repay him for almost ruining dinner.

I looked back at the stove, and the pasta appeared to be fine. I grabbed two plates from the cabinet, and set them down next to the stove. As I gave the food a few more stirs, I glanced over at Joe. He was seated in the chair at the head of the table with one arm over the back and his ankle on his knee. He smiled at me, then winked slowly. It made me smile and almost laugh. Some of his attempts at being sexy were actually closer to funny. It was something he did on purpose. That was another thing I loved about him. He knew how to make me laugh.

I turned back to what I was doing, but I knew he was still watching me intently. It was a tad distracting, especially with how his hands had just felt. Just thinking about it made me quiver, but he had picked a horrible time to do it, which annoyed me. Luckily, nothing burned or stuck to the pan; I was able to slide it onto our plates easily. I turned off the stove, then set the plates down on the table in front of Joe.

He smiled at me. This time, his expression really was sexy. He was looking at me like he wanted me, and he'd take me if he had to. He had been handling me with more force than usual just now. He must have been feeling extra dominant today. That could mean a lot of fun later.

"Looks good," he said.

He winked at me again, but this time it made me react with a jolt from deep inside my body, all the way to my lower lips. The way he was staring at me, through me; I wanted what those eyes were promising. I wanted to feel him inside me as he looked at me with those eyes... Ah! I still had to get the salad out. With all of the distractions, I was glad I made it this afternoon when I made the kids their snacks.

Joe watched me, amused, as I hastily got the salad from the fridge. As I sat it on the table, he chuckled at me. He could probably tell that I was embarrassed he was having such a strong effect on me today. It wasn't my fault; he really could turn on the charm. I sat down next to him on his left. He smiled again, but this time he just looked happy.

"I see you got out the Cabernet. Want me to open it?"

"Sure," I nodded. "Here's the... thing," I said as I handed him the bottle opener.

I knew what it was called, but my mouth drew a blank. I wasn't thinking straight, and Joe was the reason. I watched him open the bottle with ease and lay the opener on the table. He poured his glass first, holding it in his hand and filling it at an angle. He set it down, then grabbed mine. He poured slowly as he looked past the glass into my eyes. His face was soft, but I could still see a hint of mischief in his smile.

"Let's make a toast," he said as he set my glass down.

"Okay, to what?" I asked him.

"To some much-needed alone time."

"Yes! Here, here!" I laughed.

Our glasses clinked, we each took a sip, then started eating our food. The carbonara turned out well, but it was still slightly over cooked. Regardless, Joe seemed to be enjoying it. That made me happy.

We tried to have some light conversation. Joe told me about his most recent programming project, and I told him about the new children's story I'd been writing. We talked about how chilly the weather had been lately, and a bit about the state of the world. It was a rather dull conversation overall. The most interesting thing we had to talk about was an awkward situation I had with one of our ten-year-old boys.

"So, I didn't get to tell you this yesterday, but I had to explain to Liam what an orgasm was."

"What?" Joe laughed.

"Well, apparently, he had meant to say 'organism' at school, and the teacher was confused when it came out as 'orgasm,' so he asked her what it meant, and she told him to ask his parents."

"Oh-ho-ho," he chuckled.

"I didn't know what to say, so I tried to be truthful... I told him it was an intense rush of pleasure. That's all."

"So that's why he said the spaghetti last night was like an orgasm in his mouth. See, and I blamed Jacob for teaching him that."

"No, it was me. I had a talk with him this morning. I told him it's not a bad word, but it makes people uncomfortable to hear it from kids, so he shouldn't say it."

"That's pretty hilarious."

"Maybe for you; it was terrible for me."

"Bah, you handled it well." He took a sip of his wine. "But now I'm thinking about orgasms."

"Hopefully, soon it won't be just a thought," I said suggestively.

He smiled at me and I giggled; I couldn't help it. When he looked at me with eyes that hungry, I practically melted. Mmm... I wanted him, and I knew he wanted me, too, but we weren't finished with our meal and there was still clean up to be done. Suddenly, I felt his hand on my upper thigh. He traced his fingers along it before giving my inner thigh a squeeze, pulling it towards him, and spreading my legs apart. I felt my lower lips clench as a sigh left my mouth. He let out a gruff, satisfied laugh and went back to his food. He was toying with me. It was annoying, but I loved it at the same time.

We continued to eat and sat in silence for a while, then Joe said something.

"It sucks that we can finally talk about adult topics, but we have nothing to say."

"It does kind of suck... we already talked about work and the weather..." I said while trying to figure out something else to talk about. "Do you think the kids are doing okay?" I said finally.

"Probably. Don't worry about them. They always have a great time at grandma and grandpa's house."

"I'm just worried because they've never had all 5 of them at once. It can be a lot to handle."

"They're fine. Besides, they're not babies anymore and they're all good kids."

"Well... I guess you're right..."

I sighed to myself. I felt silly because I already missed my kids even though I've been looking forward to this weekend for an entire month. Aside from that, I couldn't tell how Joe was feeling anymore. Earlier he had been very amorous, but now he seemed normal. Was the moment from earlier gone? Should I have just gone for it then? Well, no, I couldn't risk burning the food. I had to do something now to get the mood back, but what?

We sat quietly for a while, but all I could think to say was: "Was dinner good, honey?"

"It was great, babe. I loved it. Thank you for cooking."

"No problem, I'm glad you liked it."

"I think I'm ready for dessert now."

"Oh, but... I didn't make a dessert..."

I felt bad for a moment. Should I have planned something?

"You don't understand," he said as he moved closer. "I'm ready... for my dessert."

He got as close to me as he could without standing up, then leaned towards me for a kiss. As our lips met, I felt his curl into a smile. He licked at my lips and I automatically sighed, then immediately felt his tongue slip inside to play against mine. His hand moved to cup my cheek which pulled me to the edge of my chair as we kissed across the corner of the kitchen table.