The Gift

As usual we are running late for, well any kind of occasion, but tonight for my birthday dinner. I’ve been dressed in my tux for a half an hour or more while you’ve been in the bathroom doing whatever it is female’s do.

This scene replays so often that I don’t even glance at my watch or give a shit anymore. I just put the TV on ESPN.

The door opens and you stand there looking at me…

A vision of angels greets me. After all these years, little moments crystallize in my mind of how fucking beautiful you are.

I swoon with pride, lust, and love.

I reach for that special spot on your hip, that place where my body melts into you.

“Baby,” you say, “we’re already late…”

“It’s my fucking birthday.”

We fall into the bed together, breathing each other.

We make love looking into each other’s eyes, slowly, I relish the feeling.

I love this woman.

She orgasms with me, we are in sync.

She looks me in the eyes, “Happy 90th baby.”

View this story's 3 comments.