He’s leaving this morning for two weeks. I don’t have the skills to follow. He’ll be paddling his fourteen-foot kayak solo through the Grand Canyon.
He needs this river adventure like a cougar needs a kill.
The past month he’s spent too many days in his basement office at a computer working on a scientific paper for possible publication. He’s been acting a lot like his study animal, a frustrated caged one.
So I must admit, back in January I was looking forward to this day.
This week as he pulled out his river gear and started organizing for his trip, he morphed back into my sexy, happy-go-lucky kayaker. The outdoor guide I fell in love with came back home just in time to leave.
The front of my body is molded tight to the back of his. I trace the tip of my nose across the top ridge of his shoulder blade and find myself fascinated by his skin.
I can’t believe I’ve been lying next to him for nine years and I am just now noticing this incredible organ that encases the spirit of the person I most love on this planet.
I press my face into his upper back and can feel it breathing, cooling. I’m amazed by how alive it feels, how alive I want it to stay forever. I know it can’t, but please long enough to come back to me so I can have many more mornings of not taking this for granted and appreciating fully what I have and will some day inevitably lose.
May that day be decades away.
I inhale his scent as I brush my lips across his surface.
I want to crawl in.
Spend some time lounging around the Erotica Readers and Writers Association website.