Portrait Of A Lover


A frozen moment of time.

When was the last time I really *saw* the one I love?

My answer shames me.

I don't remember.

I shift so I am sitting on the edge of our bed.

When she gets out of the bath and starts to enter the bedroom, I make
my move.

"Stop in the doorway.  Lean on one jamb."

Green eyes study me for a moment.  Pale pink lips quirk into a slight
smile as she casually  settles herself and waits for my next move.
"Like this?"

I bring up my hands and act like I am framing a picture.  I start at
her feet and slowly 'scan' until I reach her face.

I smile.  "Like that.  I couldn't remember the last time I really
*looked* at you."

"Ah."  It is a breath filled with promises.  She shifts her body
slightly.  It isn't much of a movement but it's enough to change her
attitude from relaxed casualness to calm pride with a hint of
eroticism.  "Like what you see?"

I lower my hands so I am looking at her feet again.  In passing, I
note that her skin glows from being freshly scrubbed.  "I'll tell you
what I see before I answer that question."

"Your toes aren't perfect.  The toenails are a little ragged. They
need trimming again.  The edges of your feet are slightly calloused.
Your feet are firmly planted on the ground.  I see signs that you walk
barefoot a lot.  The skin is slightly dry even though you are freshly
bathed.  From experience, I know the dry look will pass quickly."

I move my view upwards slightly.  "Not youthfully lithe. Older.
Muscular but with some signs of age.  Blemishes here and there.  Still
strong.  The muscles in your right leg are mostly relaxed.  The main
muscle in your lower left leg is well defined.  It's obvious you are
using it to support most of your weight as you lean against the jamb.
I can see some dampness left from your bath.  Here and there the
moisture is gathering into larger droplets that seem to hang before
they finally flow down your legs."

I frame her hips and then briefly glance into her eyes before looking
back.  Her pubic triangle is centered in my vision.  I remember what
my fingers tell me when I've caressed her crotch. This is the first
time I've really studied how she *looks*.

"Amazing.  Considering how fine your pubic hair feels, it looks
coarse.  Reddish in color.  Not as deep a red as the hair on your
head.  Still moist.  I won't try to guess if that moisture is from
your bath or from within.  From the shifts in skin tones, I can tell
your pubes push outwards slightly.  Your pubic hair is sparse enough
that I can see your labia.  Those are darker than your skin but not
the same color they get when you are aroused.  One hip is slightly
higher than the other. The width below your waist hints at what's on
the other side. You aren't skinny but you aren't excessively fat
either. Hippier than most women these days.  Closer to Rubenesque than
many.  More than enough padding over your bones."

I break off and look directly at her eyes again.  "What can I say?
Built to be held close and enjoyed.  Plenty to cuddle up to.  Very
fuckable.  Very tasty too."

She blushes and I grin back.  I see more moisture glistening on her
pubic hair.

"Your stomach isn't as flat and taut as it was when we first met.
Mature.  A little larger but not fat.  Your breasts look larger.  They
sag slightly but the nipples are erect.  Your areolae are dark against
your skin.  Like the rest of you, they simply show that you are older
now.  More experienced.  Carry them with pride."

"Your arms are slender and crossed under your breasts.  Your fingers
look delicate but I know how strong they are."

"Your whole posture is relaxed.  Casual.  A little amused. Tolerant of
my sudden whim and enjoying my scrutiny.  The earlier blush has mostly
vanished but it left your skin with a rosy glow."

I lower my hands and take the time to look her over again. "Honesty
compels me to say I've seen women who are more beautiful.  You aren't
plain but you aren't a model, either." I shrug slightly.  "You know of
my appreciation for the beauty in other women."

I pause as I make sure of my next words.  "You're what I love. A woman
who is complete.  It's not how you look so much as it is how you carry
what you have.  Magnetic.  Compelling."

"You have something that calls to me.  I've never been able to put it
in words.  I can point at another woman and say 'she has it, too'.
That still doesn't convey the overall impact."

I frame her face with my hands.  Instead of commenting, I lower my
hands and then walk over to kiss her tenderly.  I pull back slightly.

"How do I capture your face in words?  Full lips.  Green eyes. Ears on
either side.  A rather ordinary nose.  A wide mouth that's smiling
slightly.  Brilliant red hair that flows down your cheeks and trails
off just above your breasts."

"Put it together and the overall look is something fairly plain."

"When I look closer though...  I see your face through eyes that
remember my love for you.  I remember your eyes sparkling at some
joke.  I remember your face slightly tilted to one side as you ponder
some comment I've made.  I remember lips pursed in thought.  I
remember lips distended as you nurse my penis. I remember cheeks that
moved in and out as you focused on bringing me pleasure."

"I remember eyes gone distant as you let yourself be overwhelmed by
the pleasure I'd given you."

"I remember hair that was flailing wildly as your head went from side
to side as you orgasmed."

"Tears of happiness.  Of pain."

I wrap her in a hug.

"I see my lover, my wife.  I see the woman I love."

"Yes, I like what I see."

We kiss and then I pull away.  Hands intertwined, we head for bed.

The rest of the night was spent talking without words.