It’s morning and I’m awake, but still sleepy, snuggled under the covers with coffee cup in hand. My face hovers over the cup, drinking in the balm of the restoritive brew. I’ve been working on my laptop, but I’m stuck. I hear the car pull into to the drive and a moment later he walks in with our baby. They’ve been at their other house with the other momma. I brighten at their arrival, work frustrations melt away.
They cuddle up next to me, my baby cradled in my arms, my man’s body curling to meet mine. I feel protected, cozy, and safe. I breath in the scent of my daughter’s hair – that unique fragarance that says that she is mine, that goes straight to my heart and reminds me that I would die for this child. But she is a wild girl and can not be contained. My precious hoyden runs off to have adventures with a tiger and a duck, leaving me alone for a moment with my love.
I rub my face into his neck, pressing my body against his. His arms hug me closer. He smells like his soap. He’s had a shower, which surprises me. He always showers before our date and before his date with his wife, but is often too busy the rest of the week. This feels like a special occasion. It feels like foreplay. When did the smell of soap on his skin become foreplay? Ah, when that scent has been a precursor to sex every week for years. Funny how such things become sexy. Soap and warm skin and I’m full of love and desire.
It’s a nice morning, basking in olfaction.