I drive home daydreaming about my wife and daydreaming about the kiss. We've been married for 22 years and I still love her. I've been on the road for business for three days so I've also missed her like hell. She's the sexiest woman on earth. I'm almost home and the kiss is all I can think about.
I pull in the driveway and kill the motor. The dog freaks out as I climb the stairs howling as if the monsters of hell are coming. My wife greets me at the door as I fumble for my keys. We embrace warmly, and lightly peck our lips together. She turns away from me and starts getting dinner ready. I notice that she has fixed her hair and put on lipstick. She hates it when I come home unannounced. I always call her on the cell so she can do her rituals before I come home.
I run the vacuum as she finishes dinner. Its only spaghetti or something similar, but it's her spaghetti so I love it. I love her. I'll always love her. I walk the dog around the neighborhood and return just as supper is ready. We dine as she tells me about all of her activities for the last three days. As a young married man I would become impatient when she prattled on, but I've matured. I've learned to listen and listening is an important way to show your woman that you love her.
We finish dinner. I brush and floss my teeth and use mouthwash. I shower and change into a robe. I return to the living room to find my wife flipping channels with the remote. We sit together and she leans back against me. The sensation is comforting and familiar. I smell the scent of her hair and I wrap my arms around her from behind. My arms fit nicely under her breasts lifting them slightly and supporting their weight, but this is not a sexual touch.
She continues playing with the remote. Flip, flip, Flip. "Do you want to watch Law and Order?" "No. It will just be the same old plot." " How about Sex and the City?" " No. I've already lived it." " Maybe Seinfeld is on?" " No. It reminds me of my friends at work."
I reach into my pocket for a book of matches. My wife stops breathing for a moment. I don't smoke and neither does she. Holding the matches is an invitation for her to join with me in the sacred rite. It is an invitation to the kiss. She takes one match out of the little book and hands the matchbook back to me. She says, "I need to brush my teeth and stuff." She departs for the bathroom as I get out another match.
She returns nearly thirty minutes later wearing a soft robe. I embrace her as she comes to me. We kiss in the center of our living room. We walk together to the candle on the mantle over our fireplace. Each of us strikes a match. We join our matches together at the candle so that we create one flame together igniting the candle. We are recreating the unity candle ceremony from our wedding. It is the first step in the sacred rite. We always do this before lovemaking—always.
We extinguish our matches and turn off every light in the house. I hold the candle in my left hand so that I can hold hers with my right. We walk together to our master bedroom suite and enter the bath. I set the candle on a table and hold her robe as she slips into the warm water. I open my own robe and slip in behind her. She turns to face me in the tub and kisses me warmly. We begin to caress each other with bath oil taking turns. I especially love it when she lightly strokes my chest and arms, while she enjoys a neck and back rub most. She extends one lovely leg partly out of the warm water so that I can caress and massage her feet and legs. After nearly thirty minutes of loving touch she asks me to turn away. I turn around and promise not to look as she lifts out of the tub and sits on the edge of the tub. I know what it means. She has grown eager for the kiss. I hear splashing behind me as she uses a special gentle product to clean all of her warmest and most intimate places. I've told her many times that it does not matter to me, but this is how she prefers it. She feels much less inhibited if she feels completely clean and fresh.
She slips back into the water and says "OK" so I turn around and embrace her. I'm hard as a rock with anticipation and I know she feels my throbbing hardness as we are so close together. I ease out of the water and towel off displaying my body to her as I do so. I'm not modest and I have learned that she likes to see me nude—especially when I am swollen and hard for her. She is more modest so I hold her towel for her as she gets out of the tub and wrap her in it. I leave for the bedroom as she finishes toweling off.
I turn back the bed and slip under the covers still nude. She enters the room carrying our candle of unity. She has changed into sexy lingerie and is resplendent in satin and lace. She is so much more desirable now than when I married her as her figure has blossomed into the full and lovely shape of the perfect woman. I hold the sheets up as she slips into bed with me. We embrace and kiss, but she is hungry for the kiss that will bring her release. I hold my hand behind her head feeling the softness of her hair as I kiss her. Her mouth is clean and fresh as is my own. We press together more fully as our lips remain locked softly caressing the lips of the other.
We part and I push her over on her back. I kneel over her and her hands come up to my chest. I sit upright over her for a few moments enjoying her touch. I finally take her hand in mine and then I turn the bed-sheets down exposing her. I cover her midriff with the soft sheet leaving her pelvis exposed. Only the single candle that symbolizes our unity lights the room. She is still wearing lace panties. I place my hand over her pubic mound and press gently. She moves against my hand, but we both want to share the kiss. I stretch out on the bed and position my face between her legs. I press my face to her just above her genitals with my mouth closed so that she feels warm pressure on her pubic bone and little else. I begin to kiss her through her lacy underwear. I slide a hand under her to support her lower back massaging the base of her spine as I do so. I want the kiss so badly. She knows how much I love it. She is so beautiful, warm, and wonderful.
I begin to lick her through the lacy panties. She brings her hands to my head and runs her fingers through my hair. I stroke her through her panties with my fingers ever so gently, but lovemaking is all about the kiss. I resume kissing her. She puts her hands under the waistband of her panties and slowly reveals herself to me. I gently grasp them with my lips and awkwardly pull them down her leg as she laughs at my clumsiness. We started doing this as a game years ago. I try to use my hands as little as possible—even for something like disrobing her. I can see the dark triangle of her warmth now and she parts her legs to invite me to the valley of pleasure. I kiss and caress her inner thighs and all around her vulva with my kiss, but I do not open her delicate petals just yet. This is the most difficult time for me—the waiting. I am so hungry for the kiss. I want to taste her so badly and feel her move against my kiss, but she makes me wait. I reach for her hands and we hold hands as I continued to massage her with little kisses. My method is simple pressure in the general region of her vulva rather than direct stimulation.