Page 4 of Has Anyone Seen My Sex Life?
‘You fancy a cuppa?’ he uttered as he pulled up his undergarments and buckled up his trousers.
It was everything I wanted and more. ‘I quite fancy chips, too.’ I added.
‘I’ll text Stu…there’s a decent chippy down road.’
‘And I’ll take that tea if you’re offering. Milk, three sugars.’
‘Christ, how do you have any teeth left?’ I found this wildly amusing. ‘I’ll put brews on then, Meg Callaghan.’
‘Alright then, Danny Morton.’
He pulled me up and again our bodies folded into each other, his face next to mine, and he kissed me. The kiss was magnificent – and always has been since. The intensity, just the right amount of pressure, the way he pulls gently at my bottom lip, the perfect hand placement. But I also remember just feeling so incredibly safe. Danny Morton, I thought, with your ugly yet sensible shoes: go make me tea, bring me chips and fuck me like that for the rest of my life, please. I wish we’d written that into our wedding vows.
One
I always wake up the same way: a nest of hair, drool, fatigue aching through my bones, in one of his old T-shirts and a pair of multipack knickers that were once white but are now grey and sagging around the gusset. A hairy arm weaves itself around my midriff, weighted there like a log, and a bearded face rubs itself across my back. I’d like to say it’s pleasurable or intended to arouse but it’s become some sort of morning ritual whereby he’s almost rubbing his face against me to generate heat and wake himself up. I imagine squirrels do the same of a morning.
He finds a safe spot in the small of my back and wedges his morning erection between my butt cheeks. He doesn’t apologise for it anymore; it’s a given that it’ll be there, like his unnecessary need to grace the bedroom with a chorus of his flatulence. Most of the time it’s there to simply wake me up, having the same function as an alarm clock. Sometimes I rouse to him playing with it, other times to him asking me for help with a cheeky ‘hand shandy’. He’s set his aims higher this Monday morning though.
‘Fancy a fettle?’
I don’t move. I consider his romantic proposal. He rubs his feet over mine and moves a hand over one of my breasts, giving it a squeeze like it might make a comedy duck noise. Unremarkably, I am still not aroused, but there is a possibility he’s made me lactate. I turn to look at him.
‘Do I have to take off my top?’
‘Nah, just a flash…give me a visual.’
I nod, turn onto my back and lift my T-shirt to reveal unshaven armpits. I roll my knickers down, kicking them to the end of the bed. He clambers on top of me. I have vague flashbacks to a documentary about walruses. He rests an elbow either side of my head and looks me in the eye. I sayinthe eye – my eyes are closed and I drift in and out of sleep.
‘I’ll be quick. Just a speedy one before the girls get up. You ready?’
He kisses the underside of my chin so we can avoid offending each other with morning breath. His cock prods the inside of my flabby thigh. I push him back.
‘Go get a condom on.’
‘I won’t come in you, promise…’
‘Which means you’ll come on the sodding sheets and I only changed them a couple of days ago.’
‘You’re killing this…’ He sighs and reaches down to the bedside cabinet. ‘Why is this drawer filled with Lego?’ He finds a condom and then lies on his back, acting like sheathing himself up requires more concentration than is really needed. I won’t lie, I put my legs down and use the moment to sleep for a few more seconds. ‘Seeing as I’m here, hop on?’ he says.
‘Fat chance.’
He nestles his body on top of mine and kisses me on the nose. There is then a bit of wayward angling and poking until he finds his way inside me. By the way my body tenses, it’s quite clear that my vagina’s still asleep too. I will admit it is not unpleasant and I am grateful for the fact we can share some bodily warmth. Cosy’s the word. He thrusts into me a few times. He buries his face into my neck then raises his torso so the covers fly off and his body is at a right angle to mine, trying to bend my legs back at the hip.
‘Nah, that’s not happening.’
‘C’mon, I’ll get better purchase that way.’
‘It’s too effing cold!’
He admits I may be right and pulls the covers over us again, chest against mine, flattening my breasts. He thrusts deep into me. I pretend to be into it and grab his arse. Danny’s buttocks have evolved over the years but I’ve always overlooked the fact they’ve gone a little fuzzy given they’ve maintained their grabbability.
‘Shit!’ he says.
‘What?’ Please don’t be a split condom.
‘I forgot to take out the recycling bin…’
