I Am a Big Romantic And Very Affectionate
It has been a very hard day when she came into the house.
She stood for a moment in the room, in the fading light, as day moved into night. She closed her eyes hard, as if the action itself would exorcise the events of the day from her memory.
Opening her eyes, her body relaxed, but sagged as if the energy that was once there was escaping with nothing to keep it there.
He came into the room and immediately sensed her tension. He gently took her by the arm, but she wrenched it away from his grip
"Cm'on...you know you need it.", he said.
She was almost exasperated.
"I don't want to tonight. Just...."
Her voice trailed off.
"Yes, you do. You know you want it." He was quite firm with her.
"Go on. Get ready. I'll be waiting for you. Don't make me wait long though."
When she came out of the bedroom to the living room, she was wearing her plush favorite robe. The room was illuminated by a candle here and there, but not overly done.
He motioned to the couch and she sat down. He sat on the floor with his back to her, looking away from her.
"Just relax. Tell me about your day, Honey."
She exhaled, trilling her lips as though she was a bored teenager gossiping with her girls.
Meanwhile, he put a towel over his shoulders and rested her feet on his chest.
He took a basin of very warm water and began to wet her feet with a sponge.
He listened to her story while she talked, often either agreeing or disagreeing, asking simple questions, but never giving advice or trying to solve her work problems. He didn't see it as his place to give advice about an occupational field he knew about only from what she had related to him.
He wanted to give support, let her know he was was there for every step of their path together.
He washed her feet gently, carefully. He made sure to rub between her toes. Every thing clean for her, he thought while smiling. Next, he moved on to massaging her feet. Using his thumbs, he pressed deeply. Rubbing her skin, he warmed his hands which in turn, warmed her feet.
Occasionally, she would stop relating her problems to him just to concentrate on feeling the movements of his hands on her skin. He'd stop once in a while to kiss her feet, tickle them to get her attention. She put her hand in his thick hair and give a gentle tug of her approval.
After drying her feet, he continued his massage, with warming oils this time. He put a finger between each toe to make sure she got all that she needed. She writhed a bit, squirmed a touch, giggled like a schoolgirl. He hugged her gently at the ankles and tickled her feet again. This made her burst out in a joyful noise of laughter which made him stop and smile.
Once her feet were clean, smelling of sweet oils, he put on the ankle socks that he loved on her so much. He gave her feet a last rub and put slippers on them.
Upon doing so, he moved her legs up to couch and covered her with a quilt that he had possessed since he was a little boy.
"Dinner is almost ready. I'll bring it to you when it's done."
She shook her head, causing her loosening hair to fall over eyes.
"No, Baby. When it's done, I'll come for you."
"You mean 'to me', right?"
She smiled.
"Both."
She stood for a moment in the room, in the fading light, as day moved into night. She closed her eyes hard, as if the action itself would exorcise the events of the day from her memory.
Opening her eyes, her body relaxed, but sagged as if the energy that was once there was escaping with nothing to keep it there.
He came into the room and immediately sensed her tension. He gently took her by the arm, but she wrenched it away from his grip
"Cm'on...you know you need it.", he said.
She was almost exasperated.
"I don't want to tonight. Just...."
Her voice trailed off.
"Yes, you do. You know you want it." He was quite firm with her.
"Go on. Get ready. I'll be waiting for you. Don't make me wait long though."
When she came out of the bedroom to the living room, she was wearing her plush favorite robe. The room was illuminated by a candle here and there, but not overly done.
He motioned to the couch and she sat down. He sat on the floor with his back to her, looking away from her.
"Just relax. Tell me about your day, Honey."
She exhaled, trilling her lips as though she was a bored teenager gossiping with her girls.
Meanwhile, he put a towel over his shoulders and rested her feet on his chest.
He took a basin of very warm water and began to wet her feet with a sponge.
He listened to her story while she talked, often either agreeing or disagreeing, asking simple questions, but never giving advice or trying to solve her work problems. He didn't see it as his place to give advice about an occupational field he knew about only from what she had related to him.
He wanted to give support, let her know he was was there for every step of their path together.
He washed her feet gently, carefully. He made sure to rub between her toes. Every thing clean for her, he thought while smiling. Next, he moved on to massaging her feet. Using his thumbs, he pressed deeply. Rubbing her skin, he warmed his hands which in turn, warmed her feet.
Occasionally, she would stop relating her problems to him just to concentrate on feeling the movements of his hands on her skin. He'd stop once in a while to kiss her feet, tickle them to get her attention. She put her hand in his thick hair and give a gentle tug of her approval.
After drying her feet, he continued his massage, with warming oils this time. He put a finger between each toe to make sure she got all that she needed. She writhed a bit, squirmed a touch, giggled like a schoolgirl. He hugged her gently at the ankles and tickled her feet again. This made her burst out in a joyful noise of laughter which made him stop and smile.
Once her feet were clean, smelling of sweet oils, he put on the ankle socks that he loved on her so much. He gave her feet a last rub and put slippers on them.
Upon doing so, he moved her legs up to couch and covered her with a quilt that he had possessed since he was a little boy.
"Dinner is almost ready. I'll bring it to you when it's done."
She shook her head, causing her loosening hair to fall over eyes.
"No, Baby. When it's done, I'll come for you."
"You mean 'to me', right?"
She smiled.
"Both."
13-15, M
