It was a strange birthday. Not the usual, by any means. When she walked out the door after their celebration, he was left to ponder what just happened...or what didn't happen.
Usually, celebrating one of their birthdays was just a wonderful excuse for an afternoon of passion, pleasure and pure selfishness for the celebrant. Whatever you want, however you want it, wherever you want it, the day is yours. Kissing, fondling, touching, licking, sucking, fucking, spanking, role-playing, any of the above or all of the above. The whole idea was that the birthday person could get whatever they wanted and not feel guilty about it. And, that also meant the giver had a great time too, because what was good for one was always good for the other. Always.
But this time was different. It was her birthday and right from the walk through the door, there was distance. A light peck on the lips, then a light peck for gifts one, two and three.
No, I'm fine, she would reply when asked what's up. Even in laying out the options, she had no preference, no choice....no interest?
The party progressed as planned: the dress-up, the drinks, the online porn, the sucking and fucking. Then, she cried. It's the hormones, it's the distance, it's the busy time at work....it was something, but then those things are always there, so what was different this time?
After she left, he began cleaning up and thought about their time together. Seventeen years and without a word of a lie, her body excited him just as much now as the first time when she gave him that first blowjob in his car, parked out by the tower. Never mind the first fuck; he lasted all of three thrusts, then erupted while she lay on the front bench seat of his station wagon.
What was it they said they always had, that 'zzzzzzzzzzz', that passion, that fire, that spark? And for seventeen years, that spark never lessened....until maybe today.
For the next days and weeks, it was all he could think about. Had she found someone else? If so, who and for how long? God, those are the kinds of questions that make a man crazy and make him do crazy things. He didn't want to be that nutbar; he just wanted to be back in her arms, feeling that 'zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.'
It happened about two weeks later. They had arranged for her to come over for a game of tennis. Now, the tennis thing was almost always a ruse; just a code word really, for an intimate afternoon.
Would she be interested? Sure. Around one in the afternoon? You bet.
He fretted and fussed for days, wanting the setting to be just right. If she is done with me, then this won't make a difference, he reasoned. And if she is back to her old self, then this will just make it even better.
So he began: a dozen long-stemmed red roses, her favourite chocolate with coconut, a tasty margarita, a suggestive card, some porn in the TV paused and ready, and a sexy outfit laid out on the bed. Oh, and the cologne she gave him, scenting those special areas.
As he surveyed the scene, satisfied with the set-up, he poured himself a generous drink, flicked on the porn and waited for her arrival.
And if she says adios? Well, they had always had a flexible arrangement, so that could be a possibility. But God, how he loved her! He still remembered the very first time he saw her. She was a goddess then and was still one now.
Snapping him out of his reflection was the gentle knock at the door. Immediately he jumped up, his heart already racing to the unknown reception.
He opened the door and took a breath, as he always did. She always did that, took his breath away, and today was no different. Her hair, her smile, her eyes, her body, it always reduced him, just a little.
