Moira was in the kitchen finishing a bit of straightening out of the pantries. The afternoon summer sun shown through the wide window above the sink in an almost liquid crystalline flow, the colors diffusing off the beveled edges in a harlequin rainbow dance of color. Outside it must have been a good ninety degrees while inside it was a comfortable sixty-eight.
As she peered with her electric blue eyes out the window and onto the back lawn she studied her husband of ten years, Liam, shirtless and with broad shoulders, slim waist, a fine chest and muscular arms. The perspiration shone on him as if he was a red haired Irish god encased in glass. Each time he maneuvered the lawnmower the muscles flexed in deep cut sectors much like a prize stallion flexing his fetters and straining at the bit. Every now and then she could see the glint of his bright emerald eyes, the flash off his blonde eyelashes and his square and sinuous jaw. His well-muscled thighs of heavily striated muscle and his huge calves showed the effort he was making in his quest for the perfect Kentucky bluegrass lawn. It was all so visceral and sensual and she found herself take breaths in short sighs. Was this really the man whom she had met in law school and been swept up to be married? Was this the man with which in ten short years she had made six beautiful and bright children?
As Moira looked out that window she thought she surely would like another child by her fine and handsome lawyer husband. Today would be perfect to try and her body was ripe and ready.
Liam finished the lawn around 3:00pm and entered through the kitchen, the smell of his male sweat permeating the surroundings. It wasn’t the sour sweat of the gym, but the salty and testosterone drenched sweat of a man after honest self-challenged work and accomplishment. She saw the lawn looked perfect. His muscles pumped from the effort strained at his flawless skin as if it fit one size too small. His stomach muscles were steel taught and segmented like a rope sculpture. He reminded her of the sculpture of Michelangelo’s David. Liam’s shoulders though, were broader and when he spread his arms out even the slightest, the muscles of his back and his slim waist made an almost perfect delta. His neck, strong and sinewed, contrasted sharply with and was complimented by his thick, tall and sinewy traps. His legs were like those of a champion rugby player, bulging from the effort of the hours in the yard. He still looked like a redheaded Greek god.
Moira was at least twenty pounds overweight. Oddly, this did not make her look dumpy, but rather more alluring. She had full, yet still resiliant breasts, firm after the years, the broad ethnic hips of her mother and strong thighs. Her feet were flat and large, a legacy to her ancestors who had run barefoot across the emerald grasses of Erin. Her complexion was perfect and her flaxen hair hung loosely down her flawless, alabaster back. Her bottom was round, firm and still the heart shaped wonder it has always been. She still had a relatively flat stomach, but with a slight lower abdominal paunch which melded perfectly with her mons pubis. Her arms were long, smooth and strong, and her large hands drew to delicately tapered and long fingers to indicate the deft intricacy with which she could perform whatever tasks she wished.
As she toweled Liam off, his perfumed wafted to her and it pleased her. She suddenly noticed herself in a heightened state of sensitivity
She sat Liam down, offered him a tall frosty glass of punch and asked: “When was the last time we made love and had a baby?’
Liam looked quizzically at her and said: “You sound like you want another one, eh?”
“Well, I would. You know how we love children, especially babies. We were always good at making them, you know. We still have the extra bedroom left and this house could hold another easily. Besides, I’m in the mood. You were always the best lover.”
Liam cocked his head to one side, his neck muscles bulging out a bit.
“So, you’ve had other lovers? Let’s hear about them. On second thought, lets not hear about them. I’m just glad I came out with the blue ribbon.” He laughed a little and so did she. However, hers came with a blush.
“Oh, you know what I meant.”
Liam had always marveled at how beautiful his wife became during pregnancy. Her skin always seemed to glow, her demeanor became soft and her facial features became relaxed. He could see a certain pleasure and satisfaction, and she displayed the energy of expectation and hope. She was especially more affectionate with him and the children. She seemed to want him around more and more. The atmosphere of home, at times, became festive. As a bonus he felt more virile, the task of his manhood, once again accomplished.
Even after ten years lovemaking was the supreme event for them both. Each time was an adventure and each afterglow was nirvana. They had to often control themselves in order to make other needed things a priority. She had made him late for work so many times that his law partners started expecting him in at 9:30am, instead of 8:30. They often winked at each other when he walked through the office doors. At these times, the senior partner, Francis O’Reilly, would liltingly inquire, “So, how’s our sweet Moira, today?” and then smile sweetly and sort of wink. It sometimes brought a few muffled snickers. Liam would roll his eyes at them, lower his head and move on silently to his office. His and Moira’s affection for one another was certainly no secret.
Liam looked longingly into Moira’s electric blue eyes, took her hand, got up from the table and pulled her to him. He put one hand around to the small of her back, he nestled the back of her neck with his other and kissed her deeply and long. He could feel her shortened breaths and noticed that she was becoming slightly unbalanced, even a bit weak. He stroked her long flaxen hair that flowed down to the broad flat of her back. He whispered, “I love you.”
