This post has been a long time coming. It took a while to write. It's based on two songs. The first is "Slow You Down" From Joe Ely's Love and Danger album. The second is Kenny Chesney's "Woman With You". I've provided both for your listening pleasure.

GNDTX

Woman With You

Slow You Down

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The door opened and her hands were full of groceries. Well, for about 20 seconds, her hands were full. The bag ripped and Pork-n-Beans, Chicken Noodle Soup and green beans, French cut, beat her to the door as they rolled and cascaded first to her feet then to the door.

It was the perfectly unfitting end to her day. Bad morning traffic, high humidity for imperfect hair, over-worked through lunch and bad traffic to bookend the morning commute with an afternoon drive-time disaster. "How people learn to drive at K-Mart, I will never understand."

Just as the third can hit the door her husband opened it to give her a hand. The fourth can rolled to a stop right at his feet. "Beans, beans, the musical fruit!"

Se chuckled even though the complete scenario, in total, was hardly a fitting end to her day.

He always made her chuckle. Even at the worst times of her life, he made her laugh. He was always there for a laugh and a shoulder to cry on, yell to, dream with and make love to.

His shoulders were like two big handles she gripped in the heat of passion. She clung to them, pressed her cheek to them before she came. Just the thought of them made her smile. Made her shutter just enough to start to feel aroused.

He helped her put the rest of the runaway groceries away and helped heat up a frozen dinner they would share on the porch swing. Just him, her and Marie Calendar lasagna on the porch swing. The small glass of wine he had poured was enough to start to relax her. But not nearly enough to get her in the mood.

They spoke for a few minutes more about little things. Little things that made her remember all over again the reasons she fell in love with him. His goofy looks, his soft spoken compliments, his hands. Ooooh ya, his hands. He was running them over her shoulders this time when she finally let go of the tension that was playing a tug of war with her tension meter.

She felt him get closer to her to kiss her shoulder. It was one of those kisses that wasn't meant to excite you, but spun her engine enough to hear the roar from deep within her. And officially make her horny.

He just wanted to slow her down. Get her back to the reality of what she knew was important. Him, their life, their dreams. Their adventures.

He did more than that. All very quickly. All very effectively. All very sensually.

The moonlight was on her skin. He rubbed it in like a fine bottle of French lotion. Smooth and silky and sweet.

"Let's go inside," she suggested and was about to get up when she felt him scoop her up just like the first time he carried her over the threshold. And just like the first time, he took her straight to their bed so that they could share what they committed to share. Their lives, their souls, their lives, but most importantly to both of them right now, their bodies.

She remembered the first time and how awkward it was for both of them. Neither as experienced as they wished they had been, but more than they really wanted to be.

He was tender and sweet; she was all he wanted and more. Frisky, mischievous and surprised.

They made their way to the bedroom. They were close to poor, but definitely not destitute. Their full bed was just big enough for the both of them and sometimes they had to spill to the living room to keep from breaking things.

He slowly laid her on their bed. Her eyes were bright and green and they never lost contact with his matching hazel windows into his soul.

She reached up to unbutton his shirt and he fumbled with her blouse. Sure there were more powerful men in her life at work with nicer cars bigger checkbooks and more power, but he was what she wanted. Besides there was something in his pants bigger than their checkbooks!

He finally opened her shirt and kissed her neck. She worked her way out of her bra, partly helping him, partly too eager to wait for even herself.

Her hands grabbed his face and pulled him in for a long wet kiss. He laid on top of her and she felt how hard he was. How warm and hard and long he had gotten just from a simple kiss.

Her skirt, wrinkled at the bending points, covered the parts of her she wanted to reveal the most to him. She rolled on top of him and worked her skirt up and over her head, in the most unorthodox of fashions. It barely cleared her young breasts. Her hair, now fallen like leaves from an autumn tree partially covered her fresh, blushing face.

The freckle beside her nipple caught his eye and took his finger and gently began to caress it. Almost spelling out in the tiniest letters his plans for every nook and cranny of her young body.

Her hands, displaying her one luxury, a manicure, rubbed his chest from his neck down to the sides of his waist and to his hips.

His short hair never looked messed or out of place. Her right hand starting at the top of his forehead and rolling down to his ear and neck where she moved in close enough to kiss him one more time with passion and meaning.

He laid there, next to as content as he could be and gently massaged her breasts in each hand. Her head tilted back and she breathed deeply through her nose and moaned the exhale out. Her panties were wet against his cock.

She moved back and forth along his boxer briefs stimulating her clit. She leaned forward and kept rubbing back and forth along the long shaft of his cock. The pre-cum was making a small spot visible enough for her to know she was doing what she needed for him.

She grew anxious and removed her panties and moved back to slide his boxer briefs off his waist and onto the floor.

While there she gave a quick lick and suck to his cock and stroked it with her right hand. Her hair spilled onto his perfect hips and she saw the goose bumps rise and he shook just briefly with the sensation. The first time in her mouth was always the most powerful for both of them.

Just as quickly, she was back on top of him rubbing her clit along his long shaft. He loved her slick pussy going back and forth, hoping he would come from just that, but wanting to slide into her none the less and make his desires come true.

The next few moments were marked with long slow strokes on his cock as well as quick staccato periods of rapid movement. When they had had enough, the foreplay ended and the lovemaking began.

Do you remember the first time you made love to someone you really connected with. Not the cheap one-nighter that you can't even remember their name, but rather that someone you knew deep inside and shared something with. That was this scene.

The light was fading in the room and turning the bright colors to shades of gray, black and white. They could still see each others faces, their grimaces of joy, their eyes of delight.

He had sat up and held her. She sat with her legs wrapped around his waste kissing touching his shoulders. His arms and hands ran down her back racing to grasp her ass and keep the rhythm going. They rocked back and forth. Her pussy wet with excitement and his cock hard with arousal.

She knew she was close but held it off and signaled with a faint, "I'm almost there," filled with breathy haste.

She leaned back, legs still around him, but her arms supporting her. Her hips moved up and down stroking him. She squeezed with every thrust.

He moaned and she went faster and faster. He finally decided he had enough and reached forward to gently rub her clit. Instantly, she felt it coming. They both moaned and howled in the dim light signifying the end of the intense pleasure.

She rolled over and laid on her side. He fell back and could feel her ankle under his calf. He moved to be close to her and stroked her hair.

She felt him hard and wet behind her. This was her man; this was her husband.

He pulled the comforter around them and dreamed of life in Texas with grass and simple people and a good woman.