In the aftermath, face down and spreadeagled, skin tingling and body still quivering from its exertions, I didn’t want the enchantment to end. Having driven up for the first time on that Saturday afternoon, I was supposed to go home after lunch on the Sunday but I just didn’t want to leave.
I had been fucked, fed, cossetted and pampered for 48 hours. I felt like a Princess.
His stated intention that he would show me what I was missing and give me the loving I needed had been delivered in spades. And, just as he promised, I had come more than I could ever have imagined. With toys and without toys… and without condoms. His test results had come through all clear the week before and it was a few days before my period was due. At that time, I was sufficiently regular and aware of the signs of ovulation to know that this had occurred the week before and so was pretty sure that it was safe not to use contraception for that weekend. It was a decision that would set a precedent of cavalier behaviour which, the following year, was to have catastrophic consequences.
We lay there, sucked, fucked and exhausted in the twilight world of a curtained bedroom on a January afternoon and, instead of adhering to my stated departure time, I started a pattern that continues to this day. Lying there sated and stroking each other, snoozing and refracting before the spectre of the imminence of my leaving rears its ugly head and we both have to go back to that place again… just once more.
But this particular day was different. For that was when it began. Two years of him torturing himself over his friends’ reactions to my marital status, with me forever trying to justify my presence in his life. Always giving a litany of reasons why we worked, why I was good for him.
A repeating cycle of reunions demonstrating the most fantastic connection, followed by little pockets of uncertainty where he would try to extricate himself by explaining that he wanted a proper girlfriend, before becoming even more deeply entangled by the strength of our mutual chemistry. The way our bodies took control, ignoring the deeper thinking of any conscience, and set about fulfilling their desperate need.
Until about a year ago, when he finally started to accept that this thing was bigger than both of us. He stopped letting his logical brain constantly fight the emotion and allowed himself to relax into it, whatever the future held. Whilst I began to understand that being his lover was so much more than the smaller role that was legally denied me. I refused to permit my need for validation to be so fixated by the semantics of a mere word and embraced the entirety of our relationship.
I am so glad that we have finally reached this place.
With a salute to Nessa and Smithy in the Christmas episode of Gavin & Stacey. Another unlikely couple who eventually have to acknowledge that there is something which just draws them together…
Happy Third Anniversary, Ruf x
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