My wife and I have been together since 2010.
That’s 8 years.
Eight entire years of being with the same woman – day in and day out.
Our union wasn’t an expected one because we’re literally morning and night. She’s bubbly, conversational and full of energy. I’m nonchalant, quiet unless engaged and often wake up sleepy.
To know us, individually from back in the day, had many asking “How the hell did you two end up together?!” Or my favorite, “D, how did you do that?!” in reference to my now monogamous ways. I often ask her the same question and I’m lead back to that life changing morning when my phone alerted me of a notification at 3 a.m…
Too Strong For You
I’d known my wife since she was 17 and even mentored her throughout her LGBTQ activities at school. I saw her as a play daughter and was willing to offer advice, my ear and time whenever needed. I had recently graduated from our Alma Mata and was in transition to the “real world” while enjoying a small magnitude of leftover college partying and women. The last time I had spoken to D, I invited her out to catch up and enjoy an iced coffee at Lake Montebello but it never happened. So now here I was, fresh from the club, fully intoxicated and enjoying some Eggos, my drunk food of choice, when D hit my phone. The conversation was very light and surprisingly short. But this behavior of contacting me around 3 a.m. repeated itself over the next few days. Then finally instead of the usual small chat, she started our conversation by asking if I had a girlfriend. This confused me a bit. Why would that matter? I thought but I answered no. (Which technically was true). D then texted an “I’m grown, you’re grown, what would you do if I showed up like this?” message followed by a provocative photo that I never imagined her to have or know how to pose for…
Next thing I knew, I was in the parking lot of her apartment complex waiting for her in my Mustang.
When D walked outside, she had on an oversized teal blue sweatshirt of our Alma Mata, some unflattering pajama pants and bright orange clogs. (*tires screech and baby cries*)
I was used to women greeting me in heels, form fitted dresses, trench coats with lingerie under…..ALL THAT….NEVER IN MY LIFE had I shown up for a date, sex date or chill-session and the woman not look magazine ready. But this girl….
When D got into my car, I smiled, told myself that I can count this as another experience, turned up the radio and we drove off.
We weren’t even two blocks from her place when she turned down my radio and began probing me for conversation. This also raised my eyebrow. I wasn’t here to talk.
Why do you want to talk?! DAMNIT!! ABORT MISSION! ABORT! ABORT!
We talked the entire car ride to my place and continued once we were inside my apartment. Once inside, she immediately admired my bookshelf and array of books. I sheepishly began talking about them, internally preparing for a nerd joke but to my surprise she paid attention and seemed interested. WHAT?!
Time was flying as we continued to be engulfed in conversation. I was enjoying the exchange of words and the realization that I had never had a full blown, in-depth conversation with her. I was intrigued. D was smart!
As if she could see the complacency in my eyes, D clapped her hands, sprung from my couch like a cheerleader and proceeded to let me know that she was ready for some action. A ping of nervousness overcame me. I had completely pushed sex out of my mind and subconsciously placed her in the “besties!” category.
I am a woman of my word! If I say that I am going to give you the business, it is the business that you shall receive!
I took a shot of alcohol and lead her to my bedroom.
As I was setting up my sex playlist, I instructed her to get comfortable. I adjusted the speakers and when I turned around, D’s sweatshirt and PJ pants were gone, leaving a sexy slip-like lingerie piece that hugged, kissed and teased those hidden curves. In an instant, D went from girl to WOMAN. The light that seeped into my bedroom bounced off the cream colored nighty and drew me in like a moth to a Ginger-flame. (HA). I took off the rest of her clothing like an excited child opening a Christmas gift, anxious to see what’s uncovered. I figured, if the over-sized clothing was hiding ALL THAT, I NEEDED to see what the lingerie was doing. I nearly gasped when I saw the large Panther tattoo that decorated the lower to mid-section of her back.
This goodie-goodie wasn’t so good after all.
After what felt like a whirlwind, I forced myself from the bed and began turning off the music and preparing to sleep. While I was doing that, D leaped out of bed and began getting dressed. I playfully asked what she was doing and she replied,
“You don’t cuddle with your friends do you?”
I can’t remember exactly how long my mouth hung open (I wasn’t facing her) but to save face I let out a nonchalant chuckle, got dressed and drove her back home, wondering how the hell did she flip the entire script on me…… and when was I going to be able to see her again.