I pull into the garage and see that your car is already there. When we spoke earlier this afternoon, you said you’d had a stressful day and might head home early because you could feel a headache building. I enter the kitchen from the utility room and see you standing in front of the sink, still in your dress clothes, rinsing dishes and loading the dishwasher. You’ve poured me a glass of wine and I see it sitting there on the counter behind you, cool and crisp white wine, beads of condensation formed on the glass. It’s been such a long day and the scene is just…so calming and relaxing to me. I take a drink of the wine, it’s chilled deliciousness slipping down my throat. I feel better already. You hear me come in and turn your head, calling a greeting over your shoulder, but you keep doing what you’re doing.
Author: lolachica
First Time [MF]
“I am…so nervous,” I think, as I look in the mirror for the fiftieth time, brushing away an imaginary fleck of mascara. My reflection stares back at me, my eyes wide and questioning. I wonder if we’re doing the right thing. I wonder if the online chemistry will translate to an in real life encounter. I wonder if I’ll throw up or be tongue-tied or spill something while we’re in the hotel bar. I shake my head. It’s too late for these idiotic self-doubts. I’m here, in the hotel, and he’s on his way. Ohmigod, he’s on his way. I begin a pep talk in my head. We’ve been texting and talking for several months. We’ve covered so much, from day-to-day minutiae to marital problems, our desires, our fantasies, our insecurities about ourselves and each other. This should be as simple as meeting an old friend, one who knows us well. But. It’s not. It’s scary. I grab my clutch and my room key and head out the door without checking my reflection again. There’s nothing I can do about it now.
Roadside Assistance [MF]
Heading home after another routine day at work, and it’s nearly dusk. Traffic’s a bitch, but you’re basically on autopilot, just trying to get where you’re going. Thinking about nothing, absently listening to some pop song playing on the radio. Wondering what’s for dinner, what mood she’ll be in when you get home, trying to recall the last time you got laid and really enjoyed it. Without even realizing it, you’ve exited the highway, getting closer now, enjoying the contrast between interstate and countryside. It’s a pretty evening and you decide to take the long way, enjoying the feel of your truck, the window open, the balmy temperature encouraging you to waste some time.
Ahead on the side of the road, a car with its flashers on and hood open. You can’t see the driver, but you shake your head in sympathy as smoke rises from the engine. You pull alongside and make eye contact with her…and decide to pull over to offer some assistance. She’s clearly both upset and perplexed; you correctly guess that auto repair is not her strong suit.
Helping the Neighbor [MF]
You wake up, momentarily disoriented, briefly unsure it is in fact Saturday and there’s no need to rush to get ready for work. You review the day’s tasks in your mind; some laundry, stop by Home Depot, fix the bathroom faucet, clean out the gutters. And then play with the kids and all that small children entail. Maybe grab a beer with a buddy tonight, catch the game. If the wife doesn’t object too much. A full day, lots to do. Time to get going. A quick shower and dressed. Now for coffee.
Home Renovation [MF]
I come around the corner on my way to the kitchen and there you are in the dining room, sweaty and dusty and looking oh so competent. Carpenter’s pencil behind your ear, hands on your hips, you’re just standing there, your back to me, seemingly lost in thought. I’m sure your puzzling out your next move. You’re so careful, so invested in every project you undertake. I love this. I know you don’t hear me behind you. I tiptoe carefully until I’m standing directly behind you. I circle your waist with my arms and plant a gentle kiss on your neck as I hug you close. We stand that way for a few minutes, my front to your back. You feel so good, so solid. My hands begin to roam of their own accord. You stand there patiently, gently sinking back into me, letting me have my way.
My hands travel across your chest, rubbing and squeezing gently. They move lower, and I start to tug your shirt out of your jeans so I can find your skin. But then, I reconsider. I move away slightly, and gently nudge you so that you catch my drift and turn to face me. You cock your head to the side, your eyes crinkled up from the slight smile that graces your lips. You start to say something, but I stop you, gently placing one finger on your lips and the other on mine.
The Better Man [MF]
Lola closed the door behind her and kicked her shoes off in the hallway. Dropping her keys and bag on the hall table, she made her way to the kitchen. Opening the cupboard next to the refrigerator, she extracts a single crystal white wine glass and places it on the counter. The slight suction of the refrigerator door makes a soft satisfying pop and she reaches in to withdraw the half-full bottle of her favorite Chardonnay. She carefully fills the glass to just slightly more than half and replaces the bottle in the fridge. She doesn’t like to get carried away, but looks forward to this for most of the late afternoon at work.
Picking up the glass and heading towards the living room, Lola sinks into the welcoming cushions of her husband’s chair. Whenever he’s away, she likes to curl up here in the evening, enjoying her wine and decompressing from her day. She takes a swallow of the wine; it is cool and crisp and sharp in her mouth and flows easily and pleasantly down her throat. Ah, she thinks. So good.