“Honey, can I take this off please?”
I looked down at my (now late) wife, Anne. I knew by her plea that she meant her hijab.
I hugged her a little closer. “Anyone around?”
“Nope. It’s just us.”
I nodded my consent, and she whipped it all off with a flourish. Her hair waved gently in the seabreeze and I inhaled her heady scent as I kissed her forehead. We stood admiring the scenery, then sat down on a coconut tree stump to continue taking in the glorious sunset, silently communing as only soulmates could be. Presently, we moved on to the seaside eatery complex after sunset prayers, being the first customers at the place we chose.
After a great dinner, filled with banter, laughter and light foreplay, we went back to the car. It looked like a quick rain shower was about to fall though, so we drove a short distance down the beach.
We were on each other as soon as she’d stopped the car. The front seats aren’t much room to play with, of course, and we’d gotten naked mostly by our own hands. I had an evil idea, cracked open the door and stepped out. Anne watched, open-mouthed as I let the rain soak my bare skin.