The touch

He was sleeping soundly, spread-eagled across the big bed. Naked except for a cotton sheet, he was comfortable and content as he slumbered. The sounds of the night could be heard through the open window; crickets calling, a cicada in a nearby tree, sprinklers. The moonlight shone through the window, illuminating his form through the thin sheet.

He stirred slightly, his body moving in response to an unknown thought. The quietest of words ensued from his lips, their meaning known only to him and to his dream state co-conspirators. His hand clenched and then relaxed, more hidden words, and then he was peaceful again.

She came to him in the dead of night. Stockinged feet and heels in hand as she crept up the stairs to him. Looking through the open door she could make out the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed slowly but deeply. The sheet silhouetted his shape as he lay on his side. That shape excited her. She could feel her desire swell up inside her as she gazed upon the man she loved like no other.

Silently she slipped her now unzipped dress from her shoulders and onto the floor. Without a sound she slid her hands down long, slender legs to remove her stockings. Soon she too was naked, save for a silver necklace. The moonlight played on her body as she walked gently towards him.

She climbed carefully into the bed, slipping easily under the sheet that she now shared with him. Mere inches from her lover she reached out and touched his lips, the lightest, gentlest touch. He stirred once again, head turning instinctively towards her. She responded, lifting her head to meet his lips with hers. The slightest caress as the kiss brought them finally together. She moved her body in closer to him, soon they touched for their entire length.

He became aware of her. Eyes opened and they connected. He wrapped his arms around her. “Hello wife”, he said.