It’s 4:17 AM and I’m lying here in bed on my back pitching tent listening to the Loons on the lake tuning up for the day. It’s mid-summer and the transition from total darkness to the gray of early dawn has started but sunrise is still forty-five minutes away. I should roll over and go back to sleep but like so many mornings I’m reliving the best and worst day of my life and one part flows mercilessly into the other. One can’t be relived without the other. They are contiguous in my mind because they happened that way in reality. I love to relive the first part but hate the fact that the second part, the worst part, concludes the memory and causes me to start the day in a melancholy mood. If anyone asks me if I want the good news or the bad news first I always choose the bad news first so the news would end on the upbeat.
I’m thirty-eight years old and I purchased this small house on the edge of a lake in New England ten years ago to escape my world that collapsed so suddenly on that fateful night three years before. It’s a year-round home nestled amongst seasonal cabins populated on summer weekends and vacant during the winter.
The memory always starts at the same moment: I’m standing behind my lovely wife, Anna, while she prepares for bed. My hands are on her naked hips as I playfully pull her back against my erection which is firmly pressed against the curve of her spine at her slim waist. My balls rest on the slope of her perfect ass. She is eight inches shorter than me and I bend low to nuzzle her earlobes and neck, which drives her crazy. I look in the mirror to see her reaction as she tilts her head to the side to provide me better access to her neck. She closes her eyes and moans as she pushes her ass back against me. My hands release her hips and run upward with a feather light touch to her waist and then up to her large breasts. She trembles from my touch. I cup her breasts in the palms of my hands and gently run my index fingers around her erect nipples.
She moans again and puts her makeup cleanser on the counter and puts her hands on top of mine and assists me with her fingers on her own nipples. I can see my own smile in the mirror as she tilts her head back against my chest. Her breathing has become ragged and urgent.
Anna continues her own attack on her nipples as my hands drop below the edge of the counter to find that her neatly trimmed pussy is soaking wet. I touch her clitoris and she groans hard and presses her hips firmly into the vanity to trap my hands. I can still move my fingers and I drag my index finger along the length of her vagina to her clitoris again. She groans again and spins around to face me. My hands are now trapped between her ass and the vanity. She presses her breasts against me and looks up. Her eyes are on fire and her face is flushed with passion. She stretches up on her tip-toes and offers her lips. I bend low to receive them. We kiss passionately for several seconds and she pulls back and whispers, “Make love to me.”