An Intimate Fantasy Romance

Sometimes, I close my eyes and imagine a life where you, my beautiful lover, come home around 6. Dinner is ready or almost and you greet me in the kitchen. I’m happy to see you and you’re happy to see me.

It’s been a long day for both of us.

You pull up a bar stool at the kitchen counter and tell me about your day, good, bad, funny, and tragic. I pour you a drink, and then listen intently as I finish supper.

Occasionally, I walk over and kiss your beautiful mouth because I love listening to you speak.

When dinner is done, you hop up and tell the kids to wash up and set the table. When you’re here, we always have dinner together at the table.

Even though, I’m not so sure about Jesus or God or whatever, we pray the prayers that we know and offer thanks to our creator.

Funny stories and wise cracks ensue, who can make everyone laugh seems to be the game at play, but before we push away three things are a must: how were you brave today, how were you kind, and how did you fail?

If we speak of failure often enough, it becomes what it is meant to be: a teachable moment.

Nothing to fear— Just. A. Part. Of. Life.

Failures don’t stop us, they are lessons from which we learn, build, and grow.

After dinner, the kids head up to prepare for bed and you help me clean up. You ask me about my day and slip me another glass of wine.

“Someone thinks he’s getting lucky tonight,” I joke. We laugh. You nod, “Mmmhmm.”

There’s nothing more relaxing than the sound of the dishwasher softly whooshing in the darkened kitchen at night.

Kids tucked away, we both say goodnight and kiss foreheads, noses, and cheeks. They’re safe. Lights out. Thank you for loving them as if they were your own.

Together, alone now, we choose a book, a movie, or the nightly news, but you hate the news so most nights we cuddle with light jazz playing softly and a book either shared or separate.

I love when you let me read to you though— especially the sexy parts that make you pull me closer and rub my breasts gently through my silk nightie.

When we get to that part… you know… that part when you kiss my neck and whisper, “I need to feel you.” Yes, that’s when I know it’s time to close the book.

You’re my dream love. A figment of my vivid imagination. I created you. You exist only in my mind to please my heart.

It’s 6 p.m. and my dinner alarm just pulled me from this life-like dream. I look up at the door but you’re not here. You were never here.

I pour my own wine, then rewind and play the dream of our fantasy romance once again… I go through the steps, but in reality, this time, instead of with you, I’m alone.




Image by Deena and Oscar Mikols on Pexels.


6 thoughts on “An Intimate Fantasy Romance

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