It's 8 o'clock on a Saturday morning. I'm standing naked in front of a sixth-floor livingroom window overlooking Lake Michigan. My partner of two years Ken Watson is behind me wrapping his arms around my waist. His penis brushes my buttocks.
The bed needed to be made but so what. It can wait.
Ken, age 42, is my dream guy. He stands 6 feet. His pecs are hard and thick and his shoulders broad. His arms are hard. His biceps bulge.
"I can do with some breakfast."
"Me too," he replied. "Do you want to go someplace or should I make us something?"
"Surprise me," I quipped.
He planted a light kiss on my neck then moved away. I turned to watch him make breakfast. I lock my gaze onto his ass.
A few minutes later we start enjoying an unhurried breakfast: eggs over easy, hash browns, toast, bacon, coffee.
I leave not so much as a crumb then pour another coffee which I sip. He also pours another coffee which he sips.
We gave it some thought and decided how to spend part of a day. We both wanted to do something physical rather than sit in a chair. That rules out chess.
Maggie Daley park is a seasonal ice ribbon public rink at the south end of the city and far from "the Lake" It makes a loop around an interesting architectural design.
The rink seemed crowded despite the frigid early afternoon temperature. Skaters of all ages proved willing to endure the cold to get recreational exercise. Ken and I skated at an unhurried pace with an almost effortless stride that conserves energy.
In a younger day he had played hockey for his high school team. Though he lost the speed of youth, he seemed to not lose his endurance. I had grown up mastering the jumps, spins and other moves of figure skating.
"Let me teach you to spin."
"Okay," he replied.
We skated slowly to the northwest end of the loop. There I executed a high speed spin for approximately 20 seconds.
"Show off," he said.
"You try it. It's easy."
I watched my boyfriend make the effort.
"It just takes some practice. Pretty soon you'll be able to spin like a propeller."
"Let's just skate."
Kids just learning to skate shared the ice with kids who could skate fast and were not above showcasing their speed. Old dudes and women kept a more leisurely pace.
The sun had moved much closer to the horizon as evidenced by shadows. A peek at my phone clock which I replaced in my jean pocket confirmed the passing of time. It said 3 05.
I stopped and stood against the barrier. Ken stopped and stood on my left.
"The legs feel like rubber."
"When I played hockey the shifts averaged 46 seconds. I was a forward. Defensemen stayed out a bit longer."
"Is that all?"
"46 seconds, most of it at full speed," said Ken. "It's hard on the legs even for a guy who's fit."
As we headed back to the car the bone-chilling cold began to bother me. I made an observation.
"The temperature dropped since we got here."
Night had fallen over the city by the time we arrived at the Lake Shore Drive complex. Ken and I are alone in the elevator. Lustful thoughts cross my mind. My boyfriend takes my hand as we stroll to our unit.
About to turn 25 I want a full commitment from him. Material goods just will not cut it. So what if there's 18 years age difference. Ken means something to me. Before he came along men had come and gone but ultimately it was just sex. There were no feelings there.
We plopped into the sofa. Ken asked Alexa to read the novel "The Gold Coast"
I placed a hand on his thigh. He puts his hand over my hand.
I had come out to my parents eight years before this night. In a recent conversation with my mom I had told her that I don't want to lose Ken Watson.
