Harriet 43

I have been married to Neil for twelve years and I am still surprised by how much I want him. I am forty-three. He is forty-five. We run ordinary days, and inside them we keep a private one. I like his hand. I ask him to spank me, skin to skin, no implement, because the romance for me is that it is him and that I had to say the words. He likes hearing them. He is never careless and he is never cold about it. The workshop is mine, full of cloth and warm lamps, and sometimes that is where I ask, after the door is locked and the work is covered. If I need him to stop I say pin, and his hand opens and the scene ends, and he holds me the way he has held me through worse and better years. I am not new to him. That is why it works. Love first, then the heat I request, then his arms.