Sex used to be a once-a-month chore for me. Something to check off the list. For the vast majority of our wedded lives, Rob was usually insistent, quick, and not very loving when I gave him the chance to be intimate with me.



I understand why he was that way now through our recent open, and rather frank conversations. The things you learn thirty-two years into a marriage.



Rob has made huge strides in making adjustments. His daily physical generosity, emotional generosity, flowers, love notes, the whole nine yards, brought me back to him as a lover. His constant woo won me once again. A win-win situation if ever there was one.



There are some other things Rob’s done that’s definitely helped improve my desire for him. For the past year, his workout regimen has been disciplined and effective. He’s in the best shape of his life and very physically attractive to me.



His dedication to writing helps as well. Our conversations are laced with discussions about what topics he has unearthed while researching for his writing. And I would be a liar if I didn’t admit that his promotions at work are a turn on to me as well.



Going back into corporate after years of owning his own business had knocked the wind out of him for a long time. He was finally getting his sea legs again and excelling just like I knew he would eventually.



That leads us to our last encounter, our last “Super Bowl” event. What an evening...a real game changer...



“Hey,” Rob offered as he entered the bedroom.



He was soaked from head to toe, longish, curly salt-and-pepper hair matted to his forehead and the back of his neck, shirt sticking to his well-sculpted chest, and his trainer shorts clinging to him in all the right places.



“Hey,” I replied.



“Weekend’s coming. What are our plans?” Rob wanted to know.



“Grocery shopping. Clean the house. Yard work. Kids at some point. The usual.”



“OK,” he agreed, then wobbled into the bathroom on bike-weary legs.



Rob stripped off the soaked-through T-shirt and biking shorts and began to shave. God, he looked so hot.



Seizing an opportunity to be aggressive with him, something I never did prior to this year and something we were both finding to be a huge turn on, I walked up behind him, caught his eye in the bathroom mirror, then reached around and cupped his crotch.



“Oh, one more thing about this weekend,” I whispered into his ear. “Super Bowl time.”



“Super Bowl…” he muttered with a smile.



“Do you remember the overnight bag I packed just in case you wanted to stay in a hotel last Valentine’s Day?”



He smiled. I had packed one of his favorite outfits that evening–high heels, hose, black mini-skirt, red push-up bra and a white denim jacket. I felt very sensual when I wore that outfit for him.



“Yep, I remember, sweetie,” he replied.



One thing led to another and instead of staying on the north side of town, we decided to go home instead. On our way home from our Valentine’s date, I had told him I was going to put it on for him as soon as we got home and fuck his brains out. But we came home to a house full of our sons and their friends.



Instead of sex, we had a good time visiting with them, which was a good evening all the same… yet, it was another time a wall had been put up between our intimacy. Now, several months into a radical life change, it was time to put that offer back on the table.



“What have you got in mind?” he wanted to know.



“Rather than going out for dinner Friday night, I thought that tomorrow night date night would be a steak on the grill, and a hot girl wearing that outfit in your bed. That work for you?”



He smiled again. “Yes ma’am, that would be wonderful.”



I returned his smile and kissed him on the back of the neck. “Looking forward to it.”



He went back to shaving. You couldn’t have knocked the grin off his face with a sledgehammer.



