Tuesday, 12 December 2017

Awakening Marital Joy

Mr. and Mrs. Desmond were a lovely couple. They had paid their dues through work life and had risen professionally to the peak of their careers. Parenthood was quite successful because the two daughters they have were almost through with university education. However, home had become a regimented routine of early dash-outs to work, late arrivals, frequent travels, light meals, almost no television, brief conversations, and little sleep.
After years of slowly grinding their used-to-be romantic love life into a mechanical and fractious cohabitation, sex had become quite alien to them and they were growing used to not having regular passionate sex. Though in her mid-forties, Mrs. Desmond was still attractive with firm skin and a frame that mirrored her youthful self.

One afternoon, Mr. Desmond strode gently around his car in night gown and white short pants. He was inspecting the tyres he recently changed to ensure they were adequately pumped. The voice of a young lady interrupted with a polite greeting, and Mr. Desmond stood upright to meet a regular looking young lady who seemed to be in her early-twenties. The white gown she wore reflected so much sunlight into Mr. Desmond’s medicated glasses. He removed them and answered the young lady’s greeting. He asked what she wanted and she mentioned that a woman from that address had called her office to request the services of a housekeeper. “Oh! That will be my wife” he responded, and then he shouted “honey” lovingly. Mrs. Desmond soon came out and met the lady, and afterwards, ushered her into the house after collecting and scrutinising the form she had from her employers. The housekeeper’s name was Rosa.
Mrs. Desmond was travelling for a fortnight and had to employ the services of a housekeeper to tend to her husband while she was away. He was used to his wife travelling. After all, he was a busy man himself. Several housekeepers had passed through Mr. Desmond’s home in the past while Mrs. Desmond embarked on her travels. He never even paid attention to their names. They were invisible to him. All he knew was that they were well schooled by his wife because his routine provisions were available on time.

It was now a week Mrs. Desmond was away. Mr. Desmond sat in his living room as usual on a Saturday morning and read the newspaper the paperboy had left by the doorway. He sipped on his coffee and glanced occasionally at the news on television. Rosa soon entered the living room to dust the electronics and was wearing her usual white gown which was the uniform prescribed by her office anyway. Mr. Desmond as usual did not notice she was there. His crossed legs were on the centre table and his medicated glasses were glued to a story which had captivated him in the papers. A chain of events was initiated when Rosa accidentally dropped one of the photo frames she was dusting. The sound was sudden and sharp. It was too tangible for Mr. Desmond to ignore. He looked up towards the television to inspect what had happened. He should have just continued to read his newspaper.
Rosa squatted over the broken frame, and as she was picking up the pieces, her figure from behind had formed an hourglass shape. At least that was what Mr. Desmond thought when his eyes met Rosa. The word “Damn” left his lips with a whispering breeze. He adjusted his glasses and took a few seconds to fully appreciate the image before him. Rosa soon stood up to convey the broken pieces of her mess to the waste bin. Mr. Desmond’s eyes accompanied her until she disappeared through a door. It felt like a door which had been shut in him for so long was suddenly kicked open. Every romantic and sensual memory in Mr. Desmond’s mind struggled for processing space at extra-neural speed. He wasn’t interested in the newspaper anymore. “When was the last time I had sex?” He remembered the date but there was nothing special about it that day. “How did I get to this point?” He thought.
Mr. Desmond was no longer himself that weekend. He kept calling Rosa unusually to do this and do that. He looked at her in a whole new light because she fed his fantasy with the right ingredients and the stew was brewing nicely. Mr. Desmond was a nice faithful man who would not deliberately cheat on his wife so he exercised painful restraint and limited his fantasies to the eventual bulge he coped with whenever his odd cup was filled.
The next week went by quite quickly. Mr. Desmond went about his work with renewed zest. He wished his wife were back so he could relieve himself of the frustrations which haunted him in recent nights. He looked forward to going home after work each day to feed his amorous hobby of staring at Rosa. Little did he know that ladies always seem to know when men are staring. Of course, Mr. Desmond was her boss and she would not even dream of allowing a thing like that happen.
Soon, it was Saturday again and Mr. Desmond assumed his normal position and was catered for by Rosa. This time there was no need to read a paper. He watched the news on television instead. As his instincts predicted, Rosa innocently came by to do her routine dusting around the television stand. Mr. Desmond’s bulge this time was instant. Days of accumulated fantasies gushed in crimson coloured liquid to a dead end in his boneless appendage.  He enjoyed this game he was playing. A little heat from a fire only teases your skin he thought. He watched hard as Rosa’s, now attractive body, went about her dusting dutifully.
When she was all done, she started walking away, but Mr. Desmond was not done yet. His frustration told him to speak, and he involuntarily called her name. His next statement did not correspond with his usual errand instructions. This time, Mr. Desmond asked a question. “How old are you?” He asked calmly, as he squeezed his thighs together to hide his bulge. With a smile on her face, Rosa walked towards him and stopped a few metres away from him. “You want to know if I am old enough to have sex, isn’t it?” After Rosa spoke, Mr. Desmond’s eyeballs rolled around rapidly behind his glasses in shock. Rosa continued. “I see the way you have been looking at me. I am not a virgin if that is what you really want to find out. But I will not tell you my age.” Afterwards, Rosa walked out of the living room in strides which suggested she was fully aware of Mr. Desmond’s thoughts. How else can you describe shock? His bulge flattened with speed. He had not felt that level of nervousness since he was in the delivery room with his wife in labour for their second daughter. Sweat began to surface through the pores on his forehead. He went into his room but was restless. His mind was undergoing a mega earthquake kind of commotion. He paced around the room breathing heavily for minutes until he made up his mind. He was going to ask her what gave her the impetus to speak to him the way she did. So, he opened the door and left his room.
Mr. Desmond looked for her everywhere and ended up in her room. Her room door was ajar. He entered the room and noticed the shower was on. He leaned against the wall and waited, jerking his knee to ease the tension that had engulfed him. When Rosa was done she opened the bathroom door and was shocked to see Mr. Desmond standing before her. The look on his face and his heavy breaths were enough. Mr. Desmond did not have to say anything else. Rosa understood and she knew what he wanted. She removed the towel she tied across her bosom gently, while staring into Mr. Desmond’s eyes. The fresh scent of the shampoo she had used conveyed the freshness of her youthful nudity straight into Mr. Desmond’s nostrils. His bulge was instant again.  Just like a big cat pounces on prey, Mr. Desmond threw away common sense and wanted to whisk her off the floor.  Suddenly, a loud knock on the front door ended what might have happened.
The housekeeper quickly put on her uniform and opened the door for Mrs. Desmond. Mr. Desmond came out from the other room moments later to meet his loving wife in the living room. After meeting her embrace and sitting her down, she started to spurt out details of her eventful journey. As Mr. Desmond listened attentively with a bright smile, the pain from the receding bulge in his pants whispered to him spasmodically. Soon after, it was time for Rosa to leave. In a brief moment, Rosa and Mr. Desmond exchanged glances as she was ushered out by Mrs. Desmond. “I need some cold fresh juice” said Mrs. Desmond after seeing Rosa out. As she ambled towards the kitchen, she became the new object of Mr. Desmond’s amorous hobby. His adventure with Rosa had rekindled his interest for sex and changed the way he looked at his wife. That night was a special one for the couple. However, special nights would have been sustained if the couple had noticed they were becoming sexually docile. Now, the question for thought for married couples; who often initiates sex in your relationship?