I do not own The Magic of Ordinary Days.
Cool to see Skeet Ulrich very un-Skeet-ish. Even if I am 20 years late to the party.
The Magic of a Simple Life
They stay there, kissing, just kissing, her hands reaching up to his face, stroking his neck, running through his hair.
His hands still inexplicably glued to her waist though he wants to move them and touch other parts of her.
Still shy, still hesitant, still unsure.
"Ray, I want you to touch me. It's alright. You won't dishonor or offend me. If you hurt me, I'll let you know and help you touch me better."
Her words are murmur against his mouth, he tastes them as much as hears them.
"Okay."
And then she draws back a little, breaking their contact.
Her eyes are very bright and clear and he's awed by them all over again.
She's been unbuttoning his gray workshirt as they've been kissing, it's all undone and his sleeveless white undershirt is revealed.
She smiles at him and he finds himself smiling back.
And she reaches up and slides his suspenders off his shoulders, following them down his arms in a simple move that makes his body thrum with desire for her.
She kisses him and he kisses her back, he could kiss her forever.
Except she's pulling his shirt out of his pants and off of him.
And now it's on the floor as well.
And Ray Singleton is standing in his parents' bedroom, in his bedroom, in the bedroom he gave to his wife on the day he married her, in the middle of the day, with his suspenders hanging down on either side of his hips and his arms and shoulders and upper chest out.
And his wife standing there with him.
Smiling at him.
"You know, you really are quite handsome, Ray. I don't know if you know that."
And he can feel himself blush.
"Thank you."
She kisses him again and he revels in it, unable to completely comprehend the reality in which he finds himself enveloped.
She breaks this kiss as she reaches down for his hand, bringing it up to her shoulder.
The strap of her slip, her brassiere.
Guiding his fingers under to slide it down, exposing her shoulder, delicate collarbone.
Entranced, he slowly leans over, leans down.
Brings his lips to that soft flesh, kissing it like he kisses her lips.
Hearing the faintest sigh of what he thinks is pleasure from her as her fingers curl through his hair.
His hands have found her back again and he instinctively pulls her closer to him.
"Oh . . ."
And gladly feels her arms encircle his shoulders, her hands on his back.
He lost in bliss and this only her shoulder, her shoulder and the light flower of her perfume.
He could stay like this all day, he's vaguely aware he is supposed to be out in the field or ostensibly having lunch but-
"Ray . . ."
He straightens up and she's there, she's still smiling but he sees something in her eyes fully he's only been getting the vaguest hints of previously.
She shifts her shoulders, her arms.
And lets her slip slide to the floor at her feet.
"Now you," she breathes and slides her hands down his chest to his stomach.
Grasping the material of his white undershirt and pulling it now up and out of the waistband of his pants.
With surety and ease . . .
"Livy . . ."
. . . and somehow gentle urging as well.
He lets her pull it over his head, raising his arms and then lowering them, bare now to the waist.
With his wife's warm hands on his chest, fingers curling through his chest hair, electric touch to his exposed flesh.
He's not fat, he's not thin, he's just . . .
". . . muscular. Where have you been hiding all these muscles, Mr. Singleton?"
. . . him.
And her smile is appreciative even as she gently teases him on his farm muscle.
Breaking the tension of the moment, if ever so briefly.
He smiles back, body strumming with desire.
For his wife is now running her hands up his chest, over his shoulders to the nape of his neck, the top of his back.
All the skin and nerves that aren't used to all this touching, caressing.
He doesn't know how he's going to manage the rest, the tightness of his loins doesn't reassure him there will be much more rest.
But Livy is kissing him again and his hands are migrating from her waist up her sides.
Hesitant to move 'round to her breasts, she might not appreciate being groped, even through all the supportive restriction.
But she seems to welcome it because she reaches back with one hand with a easy, practiced movement.
Oh-
And the fabric loosens its restriction and . . .
Livy-
. . . he ends up, with less awkwardness than he might have hoped . . .
- you're so beautiful.
. . . helping her remove this garment completely as well.
The moment her arms are free, Raymond Singleton's wife wraps her arms around him, pressing her completely bare chest to his completely bare chest . . .
"I love you, Ray."
"I love you too, Livy."
. . . and kisses him all over again.