Waking up, I smelled the familiar scent of my wife’s perfume as I became aware of my surroundings and, more pressingly, her hair, splayed across the pillows before me. She had her back turned to me, and the sheets had pulled themselves back to reveal her marvelous figure. She’d never agree that it was, no matter how many times I told her, but she seemed to have accepted, and embraced, the fact that I’d never get tired of her.
I moved up behind her, and wrapped an arm around her waist, smelled the sweetness that seemed to be her natural odour, and kissed her neck. With a soft murmur, she shifted, pushed herself back against me, and for a second, we were only a single being.
"Did yesterday really happen?" she asked.
"It seems so."
I paused.
"Any regrets?"
"Not really. Do you? Aside from any physical… discomfort?" she asked with a sly smile.
"No, I’m fine, thank you." I said as I squeezed her breast, eliciting a slight giggle.