Chapter 4.
Hannah’s husband was a lovely man whom she cared for deeply. They had two children together, after which he had volunteered to have a vasectomy, aware that neither of them wanted any more and that she had taken sole care of contraception for their entire relationship. Now in her early forties, she didn’t want to take any more pills that messed with her hormones and her weight, or have another painful IUD inserted that had given her the heaviest periods she had known when she was younger. She just wanted things to be simple. She was aware how much her husband enjoyed sex with her, and she had a need for penetration, so it seemed like a mutually beneficial arrangement for them both. No more condoms on that one week of the month, no more worries about slip-ups and unwanted pregnancies. It had proven to be a great solution, they could fuck whenever they wanted without having to check a calendar, as long as there wasn’t a rogue child in their bed that night, of course. After ten years together, neither of them particularly wanted to do it elsewhere in the home anymore. The bathroom never felt all that clean. The kitchen felt too accident-prone. Since moving into this house, they had decided one Saturday evening to fuck on the new rug in the sitting room, only for them both to come away with carpet-like burns and a vow not to try it again.
The evening after Hannah’s first therapy session, she put the children to bed, surprised at how easily it went for once.
She took her clothes off, went into the bathroom and washed her face, something she did every single evening. However, this evening as she cleansed her face, working the product into her skin, she felt different. Something about it felt more sensual than usual. “Maybe I’m ovulating?” she thought. She was always much easier to turn on when she was ovulating. Thank you nature! Still, it wasn’t usually her face-washing routine that did it for her. She splashed the water onto her face and looked up at the reflection of herself in the mirror, expecting to see the slightly tired woman she always saw of an evening staring back at her. Instead she caught her own gaze in the mirror and looked at herself inquisitively, she looked quite radiant for once. She smiled at her own reflection, “Well this is new,” she thought. “Maybe therapy is good for me.”
Face cream applied, hair brushed, teeth cleaned, she walked into her husband’s office, completely naked. “The kids are down for the night. Do you want to fuck, darling?”
Her husband looked up from his computer screen. “Oh! I didn’t see you there, Han! Yes, of course. Give me five minutes to send this email, ok?” Hannah let out a little sigh and walked back out of the room. She got it. Life gets in the way when you’re older. She shouldn’t compare this situation to those lived in her youth, to that frantic sex she had so loved with her ex. Looking back, she realised they had little to no responsibilities. They didn’t even live together. God it was perfect! “Why do we ever move in with one another?” she thought. “House prices, that’s why.” She said, nodding in agreement with her own conclusion.
She lay down in bed, and waited. Five minutes went by, then ten. “Well this is bullshit,” she muttered to herself.
She was aware that if she waited much longer she would probably fall asleep despite the early hour, then no doubt wake in the night extremely horny and frustrated, with her husband snoring next to her. She began touching herself. Now wasn’t the time for noisy toys, but she could use her fingers. She had never been able to make herself climax just by rubbing, but she could keep herself wet until he joined her in bed. “Maybe I should have just straddled him on his office chair,” she thought to herself and groaned.
A further fifteen minutes later, her husband threw himself through the bedroom doorway, sideways, whilst unbuttoning his shirt, obviously aware that he was arriving lot later than promised, and trying to make up for lost time. The scene made Hannah laugh. “Don’t hurt yourself! It’s fine, just get into bed for god’s sake.” Now fully naked, he pulled back the sheets hurriedly, letting cold air into the previously warm environment, and lay down next to her. He reached out to touch her body with hands that were icy cold. She squealed. He instantly retreated and apologised, putting his hands over his mouth, breathing heavily on them to try and warm them up.
“Is that your vagina I can smell, Han?” he asked.
“Probably. I had to keep myself occupied while I was waiting for you.”
“I’m sorry, something came up. Nothing as interesting as your vagina, of course. It just couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”
Not for the first time, she wished he’d just call it her “cunt”. Unfortunately, he had always refused to, so she’d given up asking. “Vagina” felt so sterile.