Coming back together when life gets in the way of love
(that's a 69 joke)
“I need love,” I said.
“You always do this when I’m busy,” he responded.
Of course. I hadn’t gotten my small gestures. I didn’t say that out loud.
My husband was at his desk, and I stood before it. I turned away. I cared for the kids and myself, and let him take care of his business. Sometimes we all have business.
When enough of the day was done and the kids were asleep, I sat next to him. He looked at me.
“Hey,” he said. “What a bastard of a day.”
“Yeah,” I said. “You alright, though?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Glad it’s done.”
“Well, not quite,” I said. “Actually, I have bad news.”
He said, “What?”
“It’s really unfortunate. But you’re not able to touch your penis.”
“What,” he laughed.
“Yeah, I know. It’s bad. But I have good news.”
“What is it?” he said.
“Well, there are only three things you need to do to be able to touch it again.”
“Just three, huh?”
“Yes, but to hear them, you must answer a riddle.”
“What is the riddle?”
“I won’t tell you.”
“That is so you,” he said.
“What is so me?” I looked at him. I had a pout on my lip and a longing in my eyes.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You want to hear sweet nothings.”
I raised my eyebrows and closed my eyes. He could tell I was pleased with him.
“Something like… You’re a lovely wife with a beautiful neck.”
“A beautiful neck? Now I know you’re lying.”
“I’m not lying. I love your neck.”
“You do?” I was a little girl again. “Okay, well, well done. The first task before you can touch your penis is to get your loving wife a fizzy water.”
“Mhmm?”
“Second, is to give your wife an excess of kisses.”
“Ok, let me get the fizzy water.”
He brought me a bottle of mineral water. He keeps them stocked because he knows they make me feel good.
“Second was kisses, huh?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
He leaned into my face and kissed me a dozen times around my hairline and on my forehead. It made me cry — big fat tears without trying to expel them.
“That was perfect,” I said.
“Was it?”
“Yes, I needed that.” My voice was shaky.
“You’re so cute,” he said. He likes me emotional. Well, the crying kind. He doesn’t love the less cute expressions. But, to be fair, I don’t like his defensiveness or crankiness either.
“Thank you,” I said. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Now, what is the third?” my husband said.
“Thank you for asking,” I said. I touched his chest and wiped my palms across him, up onto his shoulders, and back to his pecks. “You need to give your wife some loving touches.” But then I looked down and saw he was holding his penis through his shorts. “Oh my god, you broke the rules.”
“The touch was so soothing. And you were so cute.”
“You broke the rules! Now you have one more task before you can touch it again.”
“Okay, what is it?”
“You have to make me orgasm.”
