Why Women Don’t Want Sex with Us: Draft 1 of Scene 4

See the intro to Scene 1 for an explanation.

Scene 4: The B&B

It’s New Year’s Eve, our 23rd anniversary. We’re scooting around town together, picking up items for our overnight stay at a local B&B, complete with a hot tub and fireplace. Bottle of wine. Sourdough bread. Some fancy-ass cheese and chocolate. A video. All her idea.

She’s wearing my favorite dress, the dark velour one that shows her shape. “I feel like a sausage in this thing,” she says, half-heartedly complaining. “But as long as I wear a winter coat in public to hide the bulges, I’ll do it. For you.”

She’s also added a few other touches that have me on the way to a moon I’ve not been to in a long time. White nylons. Dangly earrings. Slightly heavier eye makeup than usual. Painted fingernails. And knock-me-out perfume.

We settle into our room and she plucks a couple of small gift-wrapped boxes out of her suitcase. “Open these now,” she coos. More chocolate? Gift certificates? Theatre tickets? The atmosphere tells me no, but I’m grasping for a clue.

I open the first box and my jaw hits the fucking floor. Lingerie. Box #2? More lingerie. Really interesting lingerie.

She laughs. “Are you surprised?”

I don’t know what to say. I must be happy because I can feel my face smiling but I’m struggling to get out from under a shitload of emotional cargo that’s just fallen on top of me.

I recover.

And after 23 years, we have a honeymoon. Our first of many.

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