It's All About Feel Ass!*
Incredibly hot sex lately with the husband.
Butt slappin', ass grabbin', hair mussing, moan-inducing, heavy-breathing, passionate sweaty hot monkey love.
When you have to do your hair afterwards, you just know it was good. :P
I don't know what it is, but I've been hornier than a rhinoceros lately. I tackled the husband as soon as he got home from work yesterday. We had just gone at it the night before.
"Again?" he asked as he started undressing, "OK! Let's go!"
He's almost never too tired for sex, thank God.
You know, when we first got together the husband (actually back then he was "the boyfriend") and I were doing the dirty deed at least three times a day. We did it until we were sore from too much friction. We were buying lube by the gallon.
Ah, those were the days, my friend. We thought they'd never end.
That phase lasted about six months. Then it was at least once a day for another six months. Then six times a week, five times a week, three times a week . . .
You get the picture.
I read somewhere (I think it was in Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City, but don't quote me) that if during the first year of a relationship you put a penny in a jar for every time you have sex, and after the first year you take a penny out every time you have sex -- you'll never get all the pennies out of the jar.
I never believed it, but now I think there might be some truth to that. We put alot of fuggin' pennies in that jar the first year.
I've been pondering this for a little while and here's what I've come up with:
In the beginning of a relationship, your partner's body is an uncharted, unexplored territory. Sure other people may have been there before you, but it's all new to you, and that's what makes it special.
His body is a wonderland. A marvelous place where wonderful things happen.
You delight in the firmness of it, the shapes and smells and tastes and feel of it. His firm, tight nakedness presses against you while you're sleeping and you can't help yourself, you have to do it. It's primal. It cannot be denied.
But then some time passes and it's no longer new. His body is still a wonderland, but there isn't a place on his body you haven't explored with your hands, your mouth, your tongue. You know every line, every mole, every dimple, every single inch of it from head to toe. You know what makes him gasp and beg for more and you also know exactly which buttons to press and when. You know the face he makes when he has an orgasm.
Guess what? He knows all this about you, too.
After awhile sex isn't quite as urgent or important. Oh, it's still on your Top Ten list of Things to Do, but it's dropped from Number One to Number Six or so.
There's too many other things to worry about: When should we take the dog to get his shots? When are we paying that bill that's due?
My husband is still the sexiest man in this world to me, though. And he still has the same six-pack and toned body that he had when we first met, which he maintains without working out, exercising, or watching what he eats.
(I'd be insanely envious at his ability to look good without even trying, but I love him too much.)
(*Apologies to Watercolor Boy for swiping his tagline.)