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.
