As the melodious sounds of Chris Martin singing about love played in the background, a man in his mid-sixties sat across the table from his wife, marveling at how blessed he was to be her husband. Though she wore not a stitch of makeup and had her red hair up in a jaunty ponytail, she was, in his eyes, the most beautiful woman in the world, and he told her so.

She laughed and rolled her eyes, but she knew better than to argue with him. What did it matter if anyone else agreed? His was the only opinion that counted; the only one that ever had. Every once in a while, she’d lose sight of that, and he’d be right there to remind her.

They both felt fortunate to still be head over heels in love with each other after their many years together; years that had given them three remarkable children and four wonderful grandkids. They’d seen their fair share of ups and downs, highs and lows, but ultimately, they’d weathered every storm together. And through it all, their relationship had grown stronger.

The part that both baffled and delighted them was that they could still feel so intensely aroused by each other. That he found her so fuckin’ hot in her skinny jeans, a little gray T-shirt that said Perfectly Imperfect across her well-endowed chest, and her little pink reading glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose amazed him. Fuck, she made him hard!

Likewise, she felt herself go damp every time she looked at him. It mattered not that his once-nearly-black hair had a healthy mix of silver in it these days; his face was still the most handsome she’d ever laid eyes on. He took her breath away.

The weekend had been extraordinary. Friday night, they enjoyed their weekly ritual that somehow never grew stale: an intimate shave, some reciprocal oral devotion, and deliciously rough sex.  Saturday’s weather had made for a perfect beach day, right there in their own backyard, and they took full advantage of the delightful warmth and quiet bliss. And though Sunday had arrived as a gusty, gloomy day, it gave them the chance to enjoy an afternoon of board games.

When their eyes met, nothing needed to be said. There was that warm, familiar feeling of being on the same page, enjoying the same things, reveling in the fact that they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. And, as they grinned wickedly at each other, they knew they were both thinking about what would come later.

In the evening, they spent time catching up on their favorite streaming programs. But when the grandfather clock chimed nine, he turned off the television and wiggled his eyebrows. She laughed softly and wiggled hers back. That was the beauty of their relationship; words were often superfluous. More often than not, a look or a touch was more than sufficient to let the other know their thoughts. It wasn’t that they took each other for granted. Rather, they were so incredibly in tune with each other that their desire was constant, and to act upon it was always welcome.

And while that often meant his domination and her submission, Sunday night found them coming together as equal partners in bed.

It started with playful touching and kissing, burgeoning into hands roaming everywhere, eagerly…sensually. He drank in the softness of her skin with his lips and fingertips while she relished the feeling of his manhood growing hard as she teased his sac with her nimble fingers.

Cupping her breast, he raised an erect nipple to his mouth, alternating nibbling and sucking while she writhed and moaned. Her hand gripped his stiff shaft while his fingers danced along the curve of her torso until he landed on her hip.

She purred.

He moaned.

They sighed.

He let his hand wander across her belly, delighted to find evidence of her arousal when his fingers parted her glistening labia. A soft moan escaped his lips when her wicked thumb brushed over the head of his cock, smearing the drops of precum that had seeped out.

Each gentle caress and teasing stroke deepened the intensity of their connection. The anticipation was exquisite; the passion between them heightened with every touch.

He leaned in to kiss her, their tongues dancing while his fingers did magical things to her needy pussy. Her eyelids fluttered as the tantalizing movements made her breath ragged and her pulse quicken. He knew he could make her cum quickly, because he knew her body as no one else could, but he drew out the moment, edging her, savoring this closeness, this delicious eroticism that they shared.

She gasped softly as his hand lingered just long enough to make her feel as though she’d die of need. He covered her mouth with his, kissing her passionately as he took her up to and over the edge.

She cried out as she flooded his hand with her release, and lay in his arms, her body still quivering from the intensity of her climax. Then, knowing he’d continue if she didn’t move swiftly, she pushed him playfully on his back and flipped her ponytail, smirking mischievously. She looked at him seductively with her intensely blue eyes before turning her attention to his stiff shaft.

Gripping him firmly, she guided him into her mouth and swirled her tongue around, as a groan of ecstasy escaped his lips. His moans grew louder as she toyed with him before working him into her eager throat. The obscene squelching noises enhanced his arousal as she worked her magic with his cock. Tugging teasingly at her ponytail, he pressed her head down gently, helping her to swallow the rest of him until her nose touched his belly.

But, as glorious as cumming down her throat would have been, tonight he needed to fuck his wife. He withdrew himself from her mouth slowly and motioned for her to lie beside him. As he spooned her, she knew he wasn’t done with her, knew exactly what to expect.

Their bodies pressed closer, communicating in a silent language that spoke of trust and yearning. He entered her from behind, sliding between her slick labia effortlessly, joining with her as he’d done thousands of times before. But somehow, it was still exciting and fresh, as if they were mating for the first time, only better.

He moved slowly, deliberately at first, enjoying the incredible tightness that defied logic for her age. And with each thrust, he paid close attention to the little tells: her breathing, the way she clutched her pillow, her throaty purr, each a sign of her pleasure and her level of arousal. He knew exactly when to pick up his pace as she began to shudder for him.

The rhythm they created together was both familiar and electrifying, a testament to the deep intimacy they had cultivated over years spent side by side as lovers and best friends. Grabbing her left shoulder and her right hip, he increased his intensity until they were fucking like animals, hot and powerful; raw and hedonistic.

Their bodies slammed until she screamed and he growled, and he emptied himself deep inside her. Even then, he continued to thrust until she shook with orgasm one more time.

Panting and shaking, their hearts beat wildly as he buried his face in her neck. She turned to him as he moved onto his back, and she tucked herself into the crook of his shoulder, resting her head lovingly on his chest.

She sighed contentedly as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in closer, kissing the top of her head. Each movement, a repeat performance of so many times together, yet never growing tiresome.

He inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, as his heart still thumped in his chest. The sound of it soothed her, knowing he was, just like her, blissfully sated.

And though he didn’t say so, she knew that the lyrics to their favorite song, the song they’d danced to at their youngest daughter’s wedding only months before, floated through both of their minds.

He smiled at her knowingly as their hearts whispered, “You’ve got all my love.”

Moments later, as they drifted off to sleep, she thanked the universe for all their years together and prayed to whatever God would listen for many, many more.