She said nothing as she watched her husband leave for work. They’re past the point of small pleasantries.
He said nothing as he left the work conference early. Just a couple texts that he wasn’t feeling well and needed to go to his hotel room. A thumbs up emoji from his boss was all he received. His wife sent him a worried emoji and a kiss.
She said nothing as she watched the youngest of her children get on the school bus. She waved to them from the porch, dressed in her work scrubs.
He said nothing as he drove back to his hotel in Toledo. He was in the car by himself and turned off the radio. The drive back was the longest 3 miles he’d ever driven. He made it even longer by looping around the complex after getting lost in thought.
She said nothing as she went back inside and made a bee line for the bathroom. A quick text to her boss telling her she had to take a sick day and that she should be better tomorrow or the day after. Her boss, a long-time friend, responded caringly. She was already in the shower when it came.
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No words were spoken as he replayed the last few months in his mind, how that one errant prompt came up on his Facebook. Did he want to add her as a friend? Her, of all people.
He didn’t say a word as seeing her name brought back all of the memories from 25 years earlier. His first love. His first real girlfriend. How they thought they’d spend their lives together. How much they loved each other back then. How sudden their love was, but yet how impactful it was more than a generation later.
He said nothing as he felt all of the love he had for her return in an instant. It was like watching a favorite movie on television, he didn’t miss a beat. All of it, the good times and bad, came rushing in at once.
He didn’t say anything as he spent a week agonizing whether or not to press that ‘Send Request’ button to her, weighing out all the possible ways this could go wrong. Would she even remember him after all these years? Would she be scared or disgusted that he found her after all this time? Would she be more upset about why it took so long or what happened in the past? Would she block him, put him on blast, or just laugh him off?
He didn’t say anything when he did send the friend request after having a couple drinks on a Friday night after his family went to bed. Okay, more than a couple drinks. He panicked on the inside as he played through all of the excuses in his head.
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She didn’t say a word as she dressed in her favorite lingerie. She was glad that she still fit into it after all this time. She hasn’t felt sexy for years, and hasn’t even tried to dress this way for her husband since before the last child was conceived. It’s hard to feel sexy for a man who doesn’t appreciate his wife, let alone show any affection or desire. They haven’t made love in almost two years. She didn’t count what they did anymore as making love, it was glorified rape, only when he was horny and his mistress wasn’t around. The only reason they slept in the same room is because neither wants to leave the bed.
He didn’t say a word as he made his way to the hotel room. A quick strip out of his jeans and polo shirt he wore for the conference and he was in the shower. His phone buzzed a couple times with group texts from his work buddies as they talked about how much fun they were going to have getting drunk during lunch.
She didn’t say a word as she looked at herself in the mirror, dressed in her lavender lace bra and matching panties and pantyhose. She hated how she looked anymore. She was almost 40, her best years were behind her. Her stomach showed stretchmarks from fighting a losing battle with food in her 20’s and from bearing 3 children. Her once toned arms now felt flabby, her butt sagged just a little too much, and her last pregnancy produced varicose veins in her left calf. She cried, wondering how anyone could look at her and find her sexy again.
He said nothing as he shaved his head and trimmed up his beard. His full head of red hair had long since receded, doing a full retreat from the crown and forehead. He could’ve just maintained his hair, kept it short, but no. If his hair grew longer than a half inch, it looked like most of it was grey. Being bald he could live with, but being gray made him think he was too old. He shaved his head, thinking back to how he used to look. He was a young and good looking back then, a gym rat with 6% body fat. That was almost 40 pounds ago. He sighed, then trimmed some of the dead ends from his long beard.
She was quiet as she packed one of her best Sunday dresses in her to-go bag. It was a white dress with purple flowers on it, and had just enough of a neckline to both accentuate her ample bosom and yet be just modest enough for church. The shoulders were covered, the skirt part flared out from the waist, and it zipped up in the back. She threw a pair of matching heels in the bag, along with a couple pieces of jewelry. A few bracelets that she’s had for a few years, a couple small rings, and a pendant necklace of a rose that she’s had since she was a teen.
He said nothing as he laid out his clothes on the hotel bed. A gray 3-piece suit, a white shirt, a maroon tie, and cufflinks. His leather shoes, black oxfords no brogues, matched his leather belt. The only jewelry he’d wear today was his Apple Watch, his wedding band, and a pair of earrings his late brother gave him. The same he wore every day.
She didn’t speak as she left the house, dressed in her work scrubs and tennis shoes, carrying her bag and purse over her shoulder. The nice old lady across the street who never minded her own business waved. She waved back, then climbed into her older white 2011 Ford Explorer. It was around the same time she’d leave every day for work.
He didn’t say anything as he finished his pre-dress ritual. Piss, deodorant, mouth wash, wash hands, dry. He took a deep breath as he watched the man in the mirror, feeling the weight of the enormity of the day, concentrated on the black metal circle around his left ring finger.
She drove in silent contemplation as she left her house in the suburbs of Toledo, on the Michigan side of the border, and headed for the city. She drove out of her neighborhood the way she normally does, and went on autopilot as she thought about how she ended up in this position.
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She said nothing that Friday night as her husband texted that he, once again, was working late. Funny how working late always meant either coming home reeking of booze and cigarette smoke or cheap perfume. Nothing she said or did at this point would change his mind or make him want her any more than a random barfly. 18 years of marriage, there was nothing left to say.
She didn’t say anything as she sat on the couch watching TV after 11PM by herself, drinking a glass of wine. What happened to her life? She used to be so young and fun. Now, she was an old woman, knocking on 40, out of love with her husband who was off shtooping some cheap whore or a co-worker or whatever. She just sat and stared at the TV. She had no more tears left for that prick.
She jumped when the alert came through on her phone, and silently cried. Could it be, after all these years? One little text box on her phone, and everything came back at once. Her best and worst memories flooded at once. Her first boyfriend, her first love, the first man to show her how much she was worth and what she meant. Everything came back at once. The countless hours talking on the phone, the way she felt in his arms, the way he smiled at her with his eyes. Those soft, blueish green eyes. The way he treated her like a woman when everyone else treated her like a confused kid. The pain of fighting her parents over him, the trauma of trying to reach out for help, only to end up in the hospital after having an overdose. The way he tried to genuinely help her, even if it meant sacrificing himself. The way this breakup blew up her relationships with everyone close to her. How she fought depression for years and ended up ballooning to double her current weight. How she ended up with a man so similar to him, yet so different. How she went out of her way to take some control in her life. But now it meant that she was just a mom to three kids who loved her and a wife to a husband who didn’t care.
She accepted without a moment’s hesitation, but took a while to say anything. They chatted for months over Facebook Messenger, Text, then eventually WhatsApp. She didn’t want her soon-to-be-ex-husband to see this. She had the papers ready to serve, and gave them to her husband after a few weeks.
They caught up about everything. Their jobs, their families, where they went to school, what they do for fun, their health issues, everything. Well, almost everything. She didn’t tell him about the times her husband came home and basically raped her because he was too horny after ‘working late.’ She didn’t tell him about how she thought of him as her husband pounded away at her, and she didn’t tell him how she brought herself to orgasm thinking about him making love to her.
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She didn’t say a word as she pulled into the Circle K gas station on the other side of town and carried her bag with her into the bathroom. A couple minutes later and she changed out of her scrubs and into her dress. She didn’t want to take the chance of having the neighbors suspect anything, especially since she served him those papers.
He was silent as he looked at his phone’s calendar. “Lunch with Lee, Georgio’s.” He used a fake name for the calendar entry. No matter how hard he tried, the calendars synched across every device in the family. It was easier to lie here than to lie anywhere else. He copied the info into a local version of Notes and deleted the entry. He’s supposed to be sick after all.
She was silent as she applied her makeup in the car. Blush for her cheeks, a light purple mascara to match her dress and lingerie, eyeliner to make her ice blue eyes pop, and a shade of red lipstick just deep enough to be sultry but not too slutty. She put on her jewelry in the parking lot of the Circle K, too.
He didn’t say anything as he got dressed, putting on his white t-shirt, clean silk boxers, and dress socks. To be honest, he was surprised the silk boxers still fit. He couldn’t remember the last time he wore them, maybe his tenth wedding anniversary. They were older than his youngest kid.
She memorized the directions to the hotel noiselessly. She didn’t want to take the chance of having the GPS tell her soon-to-be-ex-husband where she was going, and googling instructions to a hotel in the middle of a weekday looks bad if one isn’t on a business trip. Once she was satisfied, she pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the hotel.
He said nothing as he finished getting dressed. Button up shirt, pants, suspenders, tie, then vest. He saved the cufflinks for last. He used a traditional four-in-hand knot, a method he learned how to do himself from reading his brother’s Playboy magazines as a teen. It was much easier than trying to learn other knots, and looked almost as good. He thought about going with a bow-tie today, but shook it off. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he thought a little bit and decided to give a bow tie a shot. He looked through his luggage and found a purple striped bow-tie. After a quick YouTube search, he replaced his long neck tie with a hand tied bow tie.
She was quiet as she drove, nervous about what would happen.
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She was ecstatic when he told her that he would be in town for a couple days for a business conference. He figured that he could get away for a few hours one of those days, and asked her out to lunch. He wanted it to be special, so he recommended Giorgio’s. She agreed, but was worried that someone would see her driving there. Without thinking, he recommended they meet at his hotel room and they’d take his rental there. Thoughts manifested and delivered before the connotation was realized. They both knew how this could go.
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He smiled nervously as he finished getting ready. A little cologne he brought with him, a little aftershave, and another splash of mouthwash. He would hyperfocus on his breath when he was nervous. A nervous tick he developed after years of bad dental health.
She said nothing as she parked the car at the hotel. A quick spritz of perfume was all she wanted or needed to do in the car. She wanted to smell nice for him, but too much perfume in the car and the kids would ask questions. Questions she couldn’t afford the answer to right now.
He focused his breathing as he put on his shoes. He always put on his dress shoes last, even if it didn’t make sense. At first it was because he couldn’t find good dress shoes, but now it was tradition. He liked wearing these shoes as he got older but rarely had an opportunity to. He used the excuse of a business trip to pack a suit and tie. And a good suit means good shoes.
She entered the hotel and walked past the front desk without saying a word. She had his room key already loaded on her phone. She didn’t even have to download an app for that, the husband used this hotel for his late working sessions at least twice a month. No questions asked about downloading it onto her phone.
He paced through his room, not saying anything. He was partly pacing to break up the waiting, partly to break in his shoes, but mostly to calm himself down and distract him from his family at home. Not once in the 16 years he’d been with his wife had he even flirted with another woman, now here was inviting an old flame… Sorry, THE old flame to meet.
She sighed as she pressed the button to the fourth floor and pulled up the keycard on her phone. Room 416. Her hands shook as she readied it for use. The elevator rose, going one floor at a time until she reached the fourth floor and doors opened with chime. She looked at the sign in front of her, Rooms 411-433 to the right. She turned right and on the right-hand side saw 412, 414, 416. This was it. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, then another. What was she expecting? This was just a lunch date, that’s all.
He looked around the room on more time. The king-sized bed was clean and made, all of his stuff was in the closet, everything was neat. He sat on the corner of the bed, about to undergo a panic attack. What was he expecting? This was a just a lunch date.
She swiped the phone by the handle. The door lock clicked. A green light flashed. She grabbed the door handle and pushed it open. She walked in, letting the door close behind her. She wanted to speak, say hello, but the words abandoned her when she saw him rise from the bed. She was on the verge of breaking down as she saw him, in person, for the first time in a quarter century, as handsome as ever.
He wanted to say something, anything, when he saw her walk toward him, but couldn’t. Instead, he just looked at her, tears forming in his eyes. Standing in front of him was one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen. She was absolutely stunning to him.
No words were needed. 25 years disappeared in the blink of an eye. For one moment, they were teenagers again, standing in the company of their first loves.
He didn’t know if she came closer to him first or vice versa, but it didn’t matter. She dropped her purse and phone on the table they kissed for the first time in decades. The first kiss was quick, the second was deep as they embraced, wrapping their arms around each other. They pulled each other in close. They made out for a moment when she pulled back, tears coming down her cheeks. He was lost in her ice blue eyes. He wiped her tears from her with his right thumb, then kissed her cheeks. She hadn’t felt love like that in years.
She kissed him again, pulling him closer as she grabbed his bald head with her left hand as she wrapped her right arm around his torso. She ran her hands under his jacket, pulling it off over his shoulders.
He felt her, smelled her, tasted her, and he wanted more. He needed more. He lifted her up, she wrapped her legs around his waist. A couple quick steps, and they landed on the bed. He stood over her at the edge of the bed while she bounced back up to embrace him again.
They both removed their shoes as they began to undress each other. She worked on unbuttoning his vest while he found the zipper to her dress. After a moment, the vest was undone and her dress was loose. She stood up, letting him peel it off of her shoulders. She grabbed his bow tie and pulled it loose. They both worked on unbuttoning his dress shirt and pants. A moment later, they were both down to their underwear. At first, they were hesitant, but when they looked into each other’s eyes, they saw an old friend. Lust. Neither of them had seen that look from their spouses in who knows how long. He circled his arms around her and took her down to the bed with him.
Arms and legs intertwined as they explored each other. She stroked his beard, he ran his fingers over sides, feeling her stretch marks, the tiger stripes she earned from a life well lived. They broke off their kisses and dove into each other’s bodies. He nibbled her ear like he used to back in the day, she kissed his neck. He moved his head down her neck to her collarbone, then her shoulders, feeling her leg and ass with his right hand while pulling her up just a bit to work his left hand under her chest to unclasp her bra. It took him an extra second, but a lifetime of experience made this step less awkward than when they were kids.
Her bra fell loose, and he pulled it off of her arms. She gladly helped him remove the cumbersome garment. He made his way down her chest, kissing and licking every inch on his way down to her breasts. He sucked on her nipples, alternating between them as he slid his right hand further down her stomach and into the tops of her lavender panties. She stifled a moan and reached into his underwear, grabbing his cock and stroking it. He went a step further and started kissing further down her body, going down her stomach and past her belly button. He shifted position in the bed so that his head was down by her crotch and vice versa. She grabbed his underwear and pulled them off. He placed his hands in the waistband of her panties and pulled down. She lifted her ass up off of the bed to accommodate his wish.
He climbed on top of her, his face down in her crotch. He took in the sights and smells of her womanhood, her blonde pubic hair neatly trimmed. She saw his hard-on bouncing in front of her mouth. He kissed her outer petals gently at first, then worked his way around until he found her clit. She reached up and kissed the head of his cock, then licked and sucked the head. His taste was different than she remembered, but it was everything she felt like she was missing. She motioned for him to flip onto their sides, and he obliged. The two gave each other focused stimulation using techniques they learned over the years. She used her special trick on him while he did the same to her, writing love letters over her clit with his tongue. Within a couple moments, he felt the tell-tale signs of her nearing climax, and he kept at it until she came, moaning around his cock in her mouth. No one else has given her an orgasm in years, but to be done so lovingly was enough for her to lose all of her senses.
As she was coming down, he continued to kiss and lick her pussy. He was more than ready to continue eating her out, but she had other plans. She grabbed his long beard and pulled him up towards her. He pulled out of her mouth and moved position around the bed. The two kissed passionately, tasting each other on their lover. Without a word, he climbed on top of her as she spread her legs for him.
Had he been thinking clearly, he might have stopped things here and now. Had she been thinking clearly, she might have done the same. But neither were thinking clearly, nor did they want to. For one moment, they threw caution to the wind and decided to be one body.
He kissed her as climbed onto her and maneuvered his member into her womanhood. She let out a sharp hiss as he entered. He paused for a moment, but continued when she grabbed his ass and pulled him into her. He thrust into her, slowly at first then picked up the pace. She wrapped her legs around him and her arms around his back. The feel of the pantyhose clad legs wrapped around his body drove him wild. He grabbed her beautiful, blonde hair with his left hand and her leg and ass with his right.
Time had no meaning as they made love. The world outside that room disappeared, all worries and problems vanished. There were no 7 billion plus people on planet Earth, just him and her.
As they made love, the only thought that entered his mind were his attempts at trying to make this last long enough for her to cum. In that, he succeeded. He felt her breathing grow rapid and rise, she gripped his shoulders tight and her body tensed. He did the only thing he wanted to.
He kissed her for everything he had left.
The dam broke as she came from their lovemaking. As she began to shudder and moan, she felt his pace quicken, his movements go from smooth and routine to jerky convulsions. She didn’t let go as he came, wrapping her legs around him as shot load after load of his semen deep into her womb.
They both laid there for what felt like an eternity catching their breath before he pulled out of her. He rolled over onto his back, and she curled up with him, putting her head on his shoulder, feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath. He played with her blonde hair with his free hand.
No words were needed for what they shared. Sure, they’d have to talk about it later. They would talk about it later, and any fallout that might happen. But, right here, right now, for this moment in time, these lovers don’t need to say anything.
Sometimes the greatest form of communication doesn’t require words. A look, a touch, a smell, a feel, can convey so much. When two people are on that level, no words are needed.