What a Woman Really Wants

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Snowflakes drifted down in slow spirals, landing on my cheeks like bits of delicate lace. I peered through the window and saw him standing inside the foyer waiting for me. A bolt of excitement flashed down my spine, sending tingles to the darkened corners of my heart. Despite the cold, the heat emanating between us was radiant, a blistering flame threatening to engulf us both with its power, leaving nothing but dying embers in its wake.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he had whispered to me on the phone earlier that day.

“Oh, really?” I purred.

“You’re gonna love it,” he promised in that silky voice that drove me mad. “I can’t wait for you to get home.”

And now after eight agonizing hours at work, I was home.

He threw open the front door with such force, a gasp escaped my lips. I ran to him, the space between us electric, filled with the pounding pulse of aching desire and raw lust. His hands slid underneath my heavy down jacket, squeezing my yearning body tight, enveloping me in a passionate embrace. His breath heavy and hot in my ear he teased, “This is your night, my love. Yours.”

I stood trembling as he kneeled before me, gently sliding the snow-caked boots off my legs, my breath quickening with every tantalizing touch.

“I think you need some warming up,” he said, wrapping his arms tight around my legs.

I nodded, still in a trance, willing to relinquish my very soul to this man. “Yes!” I begged. “Please, do it now! I’m so cold!” He caressed my feet, slowly placing them into my soft brown slippers. An instant rush of release, the dam finally bursting and giving way to a thunderous flood. “Oh, yeah,” I murmured, my voice barely a whisper. I wiggled my toes and sighed. “Ooh….that feels so good.” I shut my eyes, surrending to the pleasure, my arms limp and powerless at my sides.

“Please, don’t make me wait any longer–you must come with me now,” he demanded.

“But–what about the kids?” I asked, nervously glancing around the room.

“No worries. They’re gone for the night,” he whispered. His feather-soft lips brushed against my cheek as his hand trailed slowly down my back. I shivered. “We’re all alone,” he breathed into my ear.

He held me even closer, tracing the outline of my trembling chin with his finger. “Come, darling, please…” he pleaded. He took my hand and led me down the darkened hallway.

One glance to the left and I squealed with delight.  The clothes in the laundry room sat stacked in several tidy piles. “Oh, you didn’t!” I yelled and squeezed his hand. The bathroom sparkled in the moonlight, smelling of lavender. I felt my heart stop. My eyes watered as my hand flew up to cover my mouth.

“Oh! Honey!” I cried. “You cleaned!”

bathroom-cleaning-tips

“Wait, there’s more,” he said as he led me toward the living room. Flames from a dozen candles danced with the shadows on the walls. In the center of the coffee table, a silver bowl filled with Godiva chocolates. A bottle of red wine gleamed in the candle’s glow.

“Oh, sweetie!” I gushed. “It’s all so beautiful!”

“Shhh…” he soothed and pushed me down onto the couch. He leaned my body back onto the cushions and stroked my hair. Our eyes locked, the flames of desire licking at our souls in a near explosion of searing heat as we edged ever closer to becoming one.

“For you,” he said and ceremoniously placed the remote into my trembling hands.

“Oh, no, honey…I…I couldn’t…” I protested. My heart skipped a thousand beats. I gazed down in wonder at the buttons, all shiny and begging to be touched.

“There are 3 seasons of Scandal on Netflix, please…watch all of it.”

“But I–”

He placed his finger on my lips. “Shhh….it’s okay. Please, do it. The dishes are done, the house is clean and I’m going to put the last of the laundry away. There is nothing more for you to do now but watch your show.” He handed me a glass of wine and a hunk of dark chocolate. “And we can do it….all….night…long.”

“All night?” I asked, blinking.

“Unless you want to talk about your day at work?” he asked, leaning back, his eyebrows raised in genuine interest. He started to rub my feet, the day’s strain melting away with the gentle touch of his hands.

“What was it you told me yesterday?” he continued. “That Debra told Lisa about Sue and she didn’t even care that Sue wasn’t speaking to Lisa anymore because of the time she caught her rolling her eyes at what she said about Wendy?”

“Yeah! I mean…huh? You really want to talk about that now?” I sputtered in between bites of chocolate. Swigging back a gulp of wine, I sighed, “And it wasn’t even what she said it was–”

“How she said it,” he said, shaking his head.

We laughed. We watched Scandal for 10 hours straight. Exhausted and spent, the first pale rays of morning light spilled onto our entwined bodies still curled together as one on the couch, basking in the afterglow of a perfect night.

“Honey?” I asked with a slur, still drunk on wine and chocolate.

“Yeah?” He reached over, absent-mindedly twirling my hair with his fingers.

“Do we have any Excedrin Migraine left?”

“Yes, I’ll go get you some.”

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I know.”

“It’s just…what with the red wine…and all that chocolate…it’s a migraine waiting to happen and I–”

“Shhh…it’s okay. It’s okay. I know,” he said, tenderly rubbing my temples. I began to shiver again. As he drew my hot pink Forever Lazy Snuggie tighter around me, his arms created a cocoon of pure bliss I never wanted to escape.

“Oh, and honey?” I asked, grabbing his hand.

“Yes, my love?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

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102 thoughts on “What a Woman Really Wants

    1. Sigh. It’s such a sweet fantasy. Although, my husband does actually like to clean and does his share of housework most of the time. He could use more listening skills though when I complain about my day. Happy Valentine’s day to you!

        1. My husband and I get in arguments over whether he was actually listening or not. I’ll say, “Did you hear anything that I just said?” and he’ll say, “I hear EVERYTHING you say! I remember every word!” but he’ll just sit there and not respond. Maybe he listens TOO well?

  1. This is like my house. Except the part about “Scandal” – my wife jumped back and forth between “House Hunters International” and “Say Yes To The Dress” while I scrubbed the entire kitchen floor on my hands and knees. I did take a break at one point to show her how to use the “Last” button on the remote so she could jump back and forth between those two incredible shows. There’s a holiday tied to this sort of behavior? It’s an every day occurence around here.

  2. Ha! This was classic! It is kind of amazing that any relationship survives the ongoing work rant, isn’t it?

    Happy Valentine’s Day, DP! You know I’ll always have some Advil for you. 😉

  3. There is a reason you married that man. I’m guessing at the time, though, you didn’t know what it was! And then it all became clear. Or clean! A one in a million man … You had me at the slippers!

  4. Phew, I thought for a minute I was going to have to remind you that you bear the “Recommended Family Blog” badge on your site, but I think you just about got away with it. That DOES sound like the perfect day. A few days ago my daughter was taking something out of the oven, and she accidentally dropped it upside down on the inside of the open oven door. I was out so my man had to deal with it, so not only did he clean up the spill, but he thoroughly cleaned the whole oven until it was gleaming. I tell you, it totally made my week! It really doesn’t take much to please us does it. I might have to ask my daughter to accidentally spill things more often while I’m out.

    1. Haha! Yes, this here has been branded a “family” blog. Still have no idea WHY WordPress put me in family and not humor. I suppose they don’t think I’m funny enough.

      I absolutely agree you or your daughter should start spilling stuff left and right. I remember once my husband did the self-cleaning oven thing and I was pretty impressed. Sure, he forgot to actually scrape the burnt crap out of the bottom of the oven, but his heart was in the right place.

  5. Snoring Dog Studio

    You were drunk when you wrote this, right? Weren’t you? I was going along with it until you got to the bathroom part. That’s pure fiction. But, see that would be my idea of the best Valentine’s present – if I were married. But, I’m no longer married to the guy who’d never, ever clean the bathroom, much less talk about something I wanted to talk about. Happy V day to you, Darla!

    1. I am drunk right now, Jean.

      Well, sort of. I’m severely sleep deprived and that’s almost like being drunk, right? I got up at 2 am today. WIDE AWAKE. For hours and hours. I honestly am barely functioning today. I do know that the chocolate I will get later on will more than make up for it. Happy V day to you as well!

  6. I would like to second this. ALL of it, especially–right at this very moment–the Scandal part. (Or The Good Wife! Why aren’t there new episodes for another month?! Or more episodes for me to watch in general?!)

    Hope your day is happy, even if it doesn’t roll quite like this!

      1. It is! My sister told me she’d been binge watching, so I tried watching it myself. The first time I fell asleep. The second time I was hooked. I went through 4.5 seasons in . . . well, let’s just say very quickly! Anthony said I was OK to watch on the big screen one evening, but that he wouldn’t be watching because it wasn’t his “kind of show.” Lo, he watched 3 episodes with more focus than me!

      1. Exactly. I was going to say, “I’ll have what she’s having” but then I thought maybe someone would think I wanted your husband to clean our bathrooms or that I wanted a migraine. Do you think the writers of W.H.M.S. thought that one line would be repeated so many times? Funny stuff, as always, Darla. Happy VD.

        1. I know every line of that movie by heart. Still to this day, certain scenes kill me. Like the one where Billy Crystal is doing the “wave” during the game while telling his friend his wife is having an affair and wants a divorce. I watched that last night and cried laughing. Happy Valentine’s to you too, Honie. Hope you have some chocolate on me.

  7. This is the best Valentine’s Day Manifesto! A manual for exhausted, wine loving, chocolate eating women everywhere. THIS IS A TRUE DECLARATION OF LOVE! And, your verbs . . . they roared with passion.

    Happy Heart Day, Darla!

      1. I just read it again… look, not like it isn’t an excellently-written post or anything (it is an excellently-written post), but we poor males are already hopelessly lost in the woods, and I think you just turned out the moon.

  8. Excellent! I’m a day late to the party but I’d like to report that today… the day AFTER Valentine’s Day… I washed all the dishes, cleaned the kitchen including mopping the floor, cleaned the downstairs bathroom, including mopping the floor and cleaning the sink and toilet, and washed and folded FOUR loads of laundry. Yeah, that’s me… domestic Goddess! I should preface this whole thing by disclosing that the majority of this stuff hadn’t been done for several weeks so it was a little overdue 🙂 Happy post-V-day!

  9. Love it! That’s great! I love the part where you gasp because he cleaned. I do that too. My honey did the laundry and I was swooning. We also had a late night movie marathon with wine. That’s the best! Happy Valentine’s!

  10. Wonderful writing, as always, Darla. The whole time I was reading, I could picture the cover of the romance novel — the close embrace, she in her pink Snuggie, he holding the chocolate in one hand and the toilet scrubber in the other.

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