We see a lot of submissions featuring damaged women and the tortured souls of emasculated, sensitive men. I found this honest male perspective refreshing in this work about a man, much less shallow and selfish than he appears, attempting to rescue a relationship.
He was attempting to seduce his wife while she slept, something he had pulled off early on in their marriage, when things were still sizzling. In terms of intricacy of maneuvers, it called for patience and fine motor skills, like landing an aircraft carrier in roiling seas. Not an easy task. He remembered the steps well...
The first was a small slither to her side of the bed and an arm casually, gently, draped over her body. Then the wait until her breathing returned to normal. Soon, a hand is sliding in close to an erogenous zone. From this point it is simply a series of increasing the movement — incrementally turning up the heat, so to speak — all the while monitoring her breathing closely. If she wakes too early, it's all over. The key is to gently pull back whenever a change in breathing indicates she is waking. This is the delicate part — where the magic comes in — suspending her between sleep and wakefulness, just enough for her body to respond, not her mind. A balancing act on the high wire. Adrenalin tempered by patience and skill. The goal is to finally let her wake when the heat is too high to turn down. It's not foolproof...
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"What?" he said, trying to fake sleepiness.
He had missed the landing zone. Clumsy, anxious hands. Mayday! Mayday!
"You heard me."
"I was dreaming."
"Really?" she said, incredulously. "You're so selfish."
She was battening down the hatches. All hands to battle stations, but first he would try appeasement.
"Selfish? I'm only trying to share, to be friends."
"Please, you're not funny. Remember what I told the counselor?"
"Yeah, vaguely."
Man overboard! Man the lifeboats!
"Maybe we should've called it quits then. Now we're just coexisting."
"C'mon, who'd squeeze that last bit of toothpaste out? Who'd put the toilet paper on the roll? Who'd cut the grass?"
"Funny. You just named the only 3 tasks you provide in this house."
The Kamikaze brought the screaming plane in at a punishing angle, directly into the wheelhouse of the aircraft carrier. "You're forgetting my most important service."
Fire on deck! She pulled away sharply, pushing off with her elbow against his chest, "Please, don't start with the sophomoric comments. Can't you be at least close to serious once in a while?"
"Okay, but can't we just be friends, call a truce, so we can have sex, see if it helps our relationship. Wouldn't it be a great way to have a new start. Nothing to lose, everything to gain."
"I don't have sex with friends and I don't want to be what they call a "fuck buddy." I don't want any part of it."
He retreated to his side of the bed to cool down, resenting the warm breeze from the window, the silvery moonlight spread over them, and the two Espresso Martinis he had foolishly sloshed down at the party. Within a few minutes, her breathing had returned to the cadence of deep sleep.
He returned to his insomnia and his loathing of the two of them.
Dennis Vanvick is a retired, self-employed techie. He winters among the 7 million inhabitants of Bogota, Colombia and summers amongst the flora and fauna of northwest Wisconsin.
Dennis has been writing fiction since 1997, after taking a creative writing course at the University of Minnesota.
Prior to 1997, he wrote some nonfiction, in the technical and managerial areas. Print publications include Computerworld and Information Week, which you probably haven't heard of. One online publication in College Journal (sister site of Wall Street Journal).