I had grown accustomed to the feeling of being kissed, but this time it was different. There was a delicate touch to it, as if the weight of the world had been lifted. It wasn't just the press of lips against mine; it was the tantalizing path of fingertips, gently skimming beneath the hem of my shirt, igniting a surge of electricity that raced up my spine. A shiver passed through my body, and I instinctively leaned closer, seeking more of that intoxicating sensation.
For a moment, I questioned if this was all a dream, a figment of my imagination concocted by the depths of my longing. But I resisted the urge to open my eyes, opting instead to anchor myself in reality. I dug my nails into his bare skin, savoring the warmth that radiated from him, and inhaled deeply, drinking in his unique scent. It was my way of verifying that this moment was indeed real, that he was truly here with me.
As I let my hands find their place on his solid back, I couldn't help but revel in the comforting sensation that accompanied each stroke. With every gentle caress, my touch became a subtle affirmation of his presence, a silent reassurance that we were bound together in that moment. The taste of his lips lingered on mine, etching a memory of our intimate connection deep within my mind, as I basked in the sweet aftermath of our passionate exchange.
However, our shared reverie was abruptly shattered by an unexpected burst of laughter. The once serene atmosphere was shattered, and reluctantly, I tore my gaze away from him, the object of my affection. As my vision shifted, it remained hazy, blurred by the remnants of that profound kiss that still held me captive. As the laughter echoed in my ears, discordant and intrusive, I grudgingly acknowledged the harsh truth— the man I was kissing, the same person who severed the spell he had cast, was also the one who stole our intimate moment.
And there, in that moment of revelation, stood my husband, his towering figure adorned with bulging muscles, his eyes gleaming mischievously, intertwining our worlds in a bittersweet blend. The electricity crackled once more, pulsating within my spine. I clenched my fist, feeling the ache in my fingers, longing to lean into him and trace my fingertips along the contours of his face. Yet, I restrained the impulse, refusing to let it manifest into something more, for this moment belonged to laughter and playfulness, a shared secret between two souls intertwined.
The sound of his laughter echoed in the room, teasing my ears. I inhaled sharply, inwardly chastising myself for allowing this to happen once again. It had been years, damn it. Years of marriage, and yet my body still melted in his presence. "Not again," I whispered under my breath, a silent plea to the fates. But deep down, I knew that maybe one day, it would fade.
Summoning my resolve, I exhaled forcefully through my nose, flaring my nostrils, and then with a mischievous glint in my eyes, I pushed him onto the bed. He erupted into a boisterous laughter, breaking the enchantment that had held me captive. I was safe. Safe from the vulnerability that threatened to consume me.
"Honey! You're not mad, are you?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
"Fuck off," I retorted, a playful grin spreading across my face as I stepped away from the bed. Honey wasn't my favorite indulgence; it was caramel. Well, technically, it was caramel toffee, but only a select few knew that, and my husband was one of them.
"Sorry about the wait. work at the hospital was busy today." he said, feigning a dramatic pout, well aware of the effect it always had on me. My husband, Baby Corrigan, and I had been engaged in this game of cat and mouse for years, each of us enjoying the chase.
"It's fine. I was busy planning," I replied, my tone laced with a hint of mystery.
"You… wait, planning?" he queried, his eyebrows furrowing. "But… what for?"
Behind me, an impatient scream blared from the television, drawing my attention. I shot a glare over my shoulder at a high school girl jumping with exaggerated excitement as she spotted her blonde friend approaching. Annoyed, I swiftly turned off the television and refocused on Baby Corrigan. "You haven't forgotten about the romantic getaway we discussed, have you?" I asked, a playful glimmer dancing in my eyes. The anticipation of our shared adventure surged through my veins, filling me with a delightful sense of eagerness and joy. The idea had taken root in our hearts during a cozy evening by the fireplace, where dreams and desires intermingled with the crackling of embers.
As I spoke those words, the memory of our conversation came rushing back. It was a magical evening, illuminated by candlelight, as we sat across from each other, engrossed in conversation that flowed effortlessly between us. We spoke of our longing for a temporary escape from the demands of everyday life, yearning to bask in the warmth of each other's company amidst a backdrop of breathtaking landscapes and serene destinations.
We imagined ourselves strolling hand in hand along pristine, sun-kissed beaches, feeling the soft grains of sand beneath our feet and the gentle caress of the ocean breeze on our faces. Our laughter would mingle with the rhythmic sound of crashing waves, creating a symphony of joy that echoed throughout the coastline.
Or perhaps we would venture into the heart of a bustling city, exploring hidden gems tucked away in its vibrant streets. We would immerse ourselves in the rich culture, relishing the flavors of local cuisine, and delighting in the kaleidoscope of colors and sounds that enveloped us. With every new experience, we would forge cherished memories, weaving together the tapestry of our shared history.
In our daydreams, we envisioned an idyllic mountain retreat, a sanctuary nestled in the embrace of nature's grandeur. We would embark on invigorating hikes, climbing higher and higher, until we reached breathtaking vistas that stole our breath away. The majesty of the peaks would serve as a testament to our love, standing tall and steadfast, just as our bond had grown over time.
No matter where we would go, the destination itself was secondary to the shared experience of being together. It was an opportunity to reconnect, to rediscover the depth of our affection and the magic that ignited our souls. Our getaway would be a celebration of love, a respite from the world, where time would slow down, and the only thing that mattered was the connection between our hearts.
So, with a glimmer in my eyes and a playful tone in my voice, I eagerly awaited your response, hoping that you too had held onto this dream, ready to embark on this extraordinary journey hand in hand, creating memories that would last a lifetime.