I open my eyes to darkness. Rolling onto my back under the warm blankets, I turn my head to the right toward the clock on my nightstand. Of course, I merely confirm, it's 5:30 this morning. It's my habit to just pop awake like this at the correct time without needing to set an alarm clock. It's as if my brain has its own clock ticking away the seconds.
I ponder:
'I wonder if everyone thinks to themselves silently like this?'
But no matter, it's what I do, with different parts of my brain debating within, or assigned to observe, record, or talk to others in the real world. And even when talking to someone, a part of my brain is rewinding and reliving relevant memories related to the discussion.
I may be a little dysfunctional. But this is who I am.
While lying in bed, I stretch and tense my muscles in my daily ritual, mostly to prepare my lower back muscles for the coming "surprise" of picking the weight of my upper body out of bed. That nagging lower back injury from years ago needs this exercise every day now. I've learned the hard way, if I become too lazy or forget to do this for a few days, I'll pay for it later with another shark pain in my back, which will last a week.
This morning, I spend more time than usual stretching and lying here, my mind ablaze with thoughts of what happened just hours ago and what I'll do next. It seems I didn't get enough sleep during the night. Of course, getting home as late as we did last night would deprive me of sleep, unless I sleep later. But my internal alarm clock doesn't care. I just pop awake at this same time every morning, regardless of whether I need the sleep or not.
I glance at the clock again to see '5:45 AM'. It's now time to get out of bed for coffee. It's a workday, and I need to eventually go to the office. I'm not feeling hung over or otherwise in any bad shape. So, for me, last night was a very good evening to have stayed up so late and still feel so good.
I slide carefully out of bed. The body next to me is very still. She's quietly snoring, and obviously still asleep. Retrieving a running suit from the closet, I silently dress before leaving the bedroom. After a quick stop in the hall bathroom, I walk quietly to the kitchen. We sleep in the nude, but with one of our adult kids visiting or when we have guests, I dress before going to the kitchen to avoid being seen by others.
Turning on the kitchen lights, I can see some subtle clues of the previous evening's activities. Normally, the kitchen might have dishes and cooking supplies scattered about, just waiting for my attention in the morning. But this morning, the rest of the kitchen is rather tidy. Our daughter must have gone out for dinner last night with friends, too.
On the kitchen table, I see my wife's white shawl, wrap, or whatever women call those things she sometimes uses to cover her bare shoulders when expecting a slightly cool evening. This one was mostly concealing the grey bra and black panties wrapped within. To a casual glance, it's not so revealing as to suggest what occurred the previous evening. But I knew that if someone thought about it, they would realize she came home without wearing the underwear she had on when she left the house last night.
A large brown purse sits on the table alongside those clothes. If anyone opened it, they would find some other tell-tell contents of an unusual night out. On the floor below the table is a matching pair of neatly placed white, 4-inch cork heel sandals with ankle straps.
I consider high heels some of a woman's best accessories. At my height over six feet tall, those heels can lift her ass to a suggestive level for me. And with the added height, her face is at a more convenient level where with just a slight tilt of my head, my mouth finds her waiting lips and tongue. This relatively large purse provides space for more than just a wallet with credit cards and a cellphone. It might even carry some far more personal and intimate toys and supplies, for any encounter promising additional fun.
I pick up the shawl and underwear, completely wrapping the clues to better conceal them. I don't know when our daughter will come downstairs. So, some discretion is in order.
I pour a cup of the coffee left over in the pot from yesterday and put the mug in the microwave. Refilling the coffeemaker and starting it for a fresh batch, I then retrieve my mug and head back to the table. I can now relax with my tablet computer and catch up on the news.
Thirty minutes later, I hear the footsteps coming toward the kitchen. I'm engrossed in reading a news article, and I look up as I finish the article to see a naked woman not so quietly entering.
She's about 5 foot 8, with gorgeous legs topped by her bare slit and her nicely shaped ass, which I never tire of admiring, even after over thirty years together. Her shoulder-length reddish-brown hair is still mostly tied back in the ponytail she uses to allow me to see her lips ... and whatever she's putting in them. She walks in with her head up and shoulders back, even when tired, always proudly displaying her ample chest. But her hair is rumpled with wisps hanging down on either side of her face and strands in the back which escaped the hair tie. I wonder if her disheveled look is from her pillow and tossing & turning during the night or is it due to our hands pulling and caressing the back of her head so many times the previous evening.
"Good morning," I said. "You're up unusually early."
"I just came for the Advil. Then I'm going back to bed, so don't get any ideas." She smiles as she says it, her voice showing no hint of distress.
"What about our daughter? Aren't you the least concerned that she might see you undressed like that?"
"It's still too early for her, and I just needed to get the Advil from here. Then I'm going back to bed."
"You were amazing last night," I said with admiration. "But those shots following the wine were obviously a little too much."
"I had fun," she said confidently. "But yeah, those shots didn't go well with the wine. Those were the final straw for my stomach. Fortunately, it waited until after we left. That was a little embarrassing telling you to pull over, so I could open the car door to lean out."
After getting the bottle of Advil from one cupboard, she walks around the kitchen island to retrieve a glass and filled it with water from the sink.
I put my reading glasses on the table and get up from the chair. I walk up behind her. I am getting ideas, as I reach around to cup her breasts in my hands and press my hips suggestively against her ass. I'm sure she can feel my hardening member through my nylon running suit.
"I really want to fuck you on this counter right now."
"And I really am going back to bed," she says with a hint of exasperation, but not really surprised at my suggestion, "... to sleep. So, down boy!"
She turns away from the sink and heads toward the bedroom. I don't try to stop her, not really disappointed that she's leaving me frustrated. She could use a little more sleep. And I've learned patience with her. As the old saying goes
"Good things come to those who wait."
So, I went back to read the rest of the headlines. A few minutes later, I get up to use the hall bathroom, then go to our master bath to brush my teeth and shower for work.
As I come out of the bathroom after my shower, I see her lying on her stomach, stirring slightly on the bed. Half of the covers were already thrown off, revealing much of that body I love to watch. She turns her head sideways, out from facing down into the pillow and smiles at me.
