I slept late that Saturday morning and when I awoke it was 8:45am. Downstairs, I smelled the enticing aroma of fresh brewed coffee and so I pulled myself out of bed, shaved and showered. I threw on my Saturday shorts and a freshly laundered tee shirt and walked downstairs looking for my wife. When I walked into the kitchen I expected to see her but found the kitchen empty. I looked in the den and still no sign of her, so I headed for the next best thing, at that time of the morning, a fresh, hot cup of coffee. Maybe she ran out for a quick errand?
The warm, pleasant aroma of the coffee hit me as I filled the cup and I watched as the steam swirled above the mug. I took a sip and looked through the kitchen window toward our back yard. The sight of my wife, standing stark, naked immediately caught my attention. She had a cup of coffee in one hand and was bent over looking at the newly blooming June flowers. The sun was just coming over the roof of the house, and it bathed her in warm, morning light giving her a golden aura due to the reflection off the little hairs of her nude body.
It gave me a secret thrill to see her standing naked right in our backyard. We lived in a neighborhood with houses a couple of hundred feet away so while we are not right on top of our neighbors we could still see each other. The possibility of being observed was very much real, which made what she was doing so out of character. How many times had I suggested we spend the day naked? The simple act of being naked together was intoxicating. The unspoken possibilities of what might happen between two naked lovers. What secrets will they share between themselves?
She was beautiful. She stood at an angle with her back to me. In every age, we marvel at the beauty of the female form. A woman's lovely bottom, the curves of her body, the way her breasts hang in seductive invitation. Does it demean woman to acknowledge the beauty of the form they alone possess? I struggle to see how. How can one separate the fact that she is a human with needs and feelings and thoughts but at the same time her every movement is an invitation to sex? Sometimes, I want to live exclusively on one side of that line. I relate to the world through my body and my senses but I also relate to the world through my wife's body through the pleasure she gives me both physical and my shared and unshared fantasies. Her simple act of standing naked in the sunlight gives me more pleasure than she will ever know. She embodies the sacred geometry artist from every age struggle to capture, to understand its weight, form and presence. The nude woman is alone a wondrous gift. Do woman feel the same about men?
Last night, we had slow, drawn out sex. My memories were so sharp now, her soft caresses, moist kisses, the feeling of her tongue playing in my mouth. I could feel my prick sliding deep into her, pushing up against her depths. Then I felt the ridges of her pussy wall tug and try to hold me in just a second longer while I slowly drew my prick back out of her. I think to myself I must remember her smells and the taste of her fluids so the experience remains with me.
