The room was dark. What little light there was stole in from the hall, which in turn was borrowed from the living room. Their clothes carpeted the floor, dinner waited – abandoned and cold – and the credits rolled on the unwatched rented DVD.
They lay together in the darkness, breath finally back to normal and the sweat still cooling on their bodies. He slept. She watched the rise and fall of his chest and listened to his regular metronomic breaths. Her body was still sore in places and moist in places, and in her mind the unexpected pleasures of the evening played in a loop.
He stirred, then moved closer and rested his head against her breasts, turning left then right like a child, until he was comfortably nestled against her.
It felt good, he belonged, he fit!
She drew her arms tighter around him and felt what she thought must be the beginning of love.
It was probably much too soon for such thoughts, a part of her reasoned. A small part. Reason had no place to hang its hat here this evening. Not after his touches, his caresses, his mouth and his tongue. Not after the time-consuming kisses that covered her body from scalp to toes. No, no place for reason here, and she pushed reason off the precipice of her consciousness and allowed herself to fully luxuriate in the memories of his appreciation for her body.
"I love how you love my body."
She hadn't meant to say it out loud...somehow it had slipped out. A whisper, less than a whisper, born with a breath to die against his sleeping head.
"Did you say something?" he asked. The words were hot against her skin.
"No, nothing." The lie slid out, oily and unconvincing. She was sure he would challenge it, but instead he held her closer and planted tiny, bliss-filled kisses on her neck and breasts. When he was done he resumed his place of honor on her chest, then once again the heat of his words.
"You said something. I heard you. Tell me."
She thought of lying, of making something up to placate him, but somehow she thought that would only make things worse.
"I said...I said, Ilovehowyoulovemybody."
Mortified, she pushed him away and sprang from the bed toward the door.
"What…where..?"
"I'll be right back; I have to go to the bathroom." Then she was out the door and down the hall and into the sanctuary of tiles and mirrors, the door locked behind her.
Alone and safe, she glanced at her reflection, looked away quickly, then hung her head in disgust.
What was I thinking? Why, why, why did I have to go and say that for? Now it is over, he will never be back here again, especially after my behavior as the typical, too-emotional female, all because of some great sex. Now I'll never see him again. Damn!
Maybe it was good that this happened. Look at her! She was delusional if she thought he possibly loved her body. He didn't. He couldn't. It was just sex for him. She was so flawed.
She looked at her reflection again, forcing herself to face the ugly gap between her teeth. She ran her hands over her too-large breasts, cupping them and watching them spill out of her fingers like so much water from a bucket. Her hands continued down to her stomach, with its slight paunch, and her fingers traced the marks her daughter had left behind. She had always been proud of those "marks of motherhood" as her own mother called them, but now she saw them for what they were: just ugly, ugly scars.
She forced herself to continue, down the undeniable hips and over the wide savannah of her rear, then down to the thick thighs and calves. She looked at her face in the mirror and the tears slid slowly past the wrinkles and freckles and lines, down the years of accumulated womanhood. Disgusted, she removed her old, ratty, purple terrycloth robe from the hook on the back of the door and covered her nakedness.
He was probably getting dressed right now, thinking up an excuse so that he could hightail it out of her life. She might get one or two phone calls after that, but she knew that essentially, it was over.
She sighed, opened the door and shuffled down the hall like a condemned prisoner, preparing to escort him out.
To her surprise, the bedroom was still in darkness. He had probably fallen asleep again. What nerve the bastard had.
"Hey, you're back."
She jumped, startled at the unexpected sound.
"You ok?"
"I'm fine."
"Coming back to bed?"
"Um, sure."
She was confused for a moment, and then it hit her. He wanted more! One more go-round with the ugly, fat chick and then she would never see him again. He was crazy if he thought she was going to be used like that. She sat on the edge of the bed, and he reached out for her and felt the robe.
"Hey, what's this?"
"I was cold."
"Ok, well why don't you take it off and get under the covers with me? I promise you won't be cold for long."
She sighed, removed the robe and let it fall to the floor, thankful that it was dark and he couldn't see her.
I'll lie down for a while and ignore him. Then he'll get the message and leave and good riddance.
She lay on her side, her back to him, as much distance as possible between them.
"Hey," he said, "Why so far away?"
She didn't answer.
He inched closer, until they were almost touching.
"Baby, you okay?"
"I'm fine."
Her tone was dry and uninviting and he moved away from her. Good, she thought, just go.
He didn't. A minute later he was close again, their bodies touching this time. He put his arm around her, found her hand and held it.
"Tell me again what you said."
It was a simple sentence in the dark. Six words. But each one traveled over her body, caressing and working its way into her pores.
She tried to find the anger she'd held so closely only moments ago. She dug deep and summoned some, but by now his hand was roaming up and down the side of her thigh, and just like that, the anger evaporated.
"I said…I love it that you love my..."
His electric kisses on her neck drove gentle shocks through her body. He somehow found a spot she never knew she had – it was as if all the pleasure in her body could be had from that one amazing place. He kissed it gently. She was surprised at the involuntary arching of her back, and startled by the sound she heard, until a moment later when she realized the sound was coming from her.
"Say it again," he ordered.
"Oh God, baby, I LOVE it that you…ohhh…that you love my body."
He kissed the very lightest of kisses down her back and his hand was all over her, now squeezing a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, now between her legs, now in a place she never would have thought she would allow any man to go.
"Say it again baby."
She tried to obey, she really did. Her mouth was open but nothing came out because of the electricity his tongue and lips spread down her back, as he simultaneously kissed and licked the length of her spine.
"I love how you love my body," she said, when she was able to speak again.
He turned her so she lay on her stomach and now his tongue was in that place, that forbidden place and Lord she saw sparks and fireworks and her body involuntarily writhed and her hands became talons that pulled the sheets off of the bed.
Then, a command.
"Turn your sexy ass around."
She was weak, but she did it and he crawled over her on all fours, powerful, like a predator straddling its kill.
"Tell me again."
"I…love…how…you…love…my…body."
He kissed her lips between each syllable as she said it, so the saying of it took minutes. Then, back to his worship at the neck and breasts. The huge, undeniable breasts she knew he loved. He licked and sucked and her body moved and bucked under him. After a time he abandoned her breasts, leaving them lovingly marked and slick with his saliva. He kissed her stomach, ran his tongue up and down each and every mark until she was almost in tears. His hands found their way between her legs then his head was there too and he said, "Tell me again."
She almost screamed it out as his lips did their work, his talented tongue probing, probing until lips and tongue, working together, found just the right place and he stayed and stayed and stayed until she wanted him to stop, she needed him to stop because if he didn't she would have to weep, cry like a baby, go crazy, and she tried to get away, really she did, but he was much stronger and his arms held her down and his tongue robbed her of reason and she heard herself crying out "I love how you love my body I love how you love my body I love how you love my body I love how you love my body, baby please don't stop don't stop don't stop!"
He didn't.
When it was over and she was depleted, he took her in his arms.
"Say it again," he whispered.
"I love how you love my body."
She smiled in the dark, put her arms around him and felt what she knew was the beginning of love.
Originally published May, 2007