It’s the weekend. I hear the shower running. I know that DH just went back to our bedroom. My hot husband is taking a shower!

I’m entitled to certain wifely benefits, one of which is staring at him naked. I check on the kids to make sure they are occupied, and then walk quickly back to the master bath. “Knock, knock,” I say, opening the door slowly. He hears me and says, “Hi, sweetheart.”

It’s steamy and warm. “Hi. I just came to watch,” I say, pulling the curtain aside slightly and leaning against the wall at the end of the shower. He’s washing his hair and the bubbles are running down his nearly hairless chest as he faces me, past his groin and slim hips, down his muscular legs. He is taking his time, letting the water warm him up. I look at his handsome face as he shaves, still facing me, and then my eyes drift down and stare at the goods. What a great package. I mean, his whole body and soul. No, actually, I mean his beautiful stuff. No, actually it’s a combo deal.

He turns his back to me, crossing his arms across his chest and enjoying the water over his body. I admire his strong shoulders. “You know you’re in great shape for being over 50,” I say. He doesn’t respond. Note to self: must teach him to say “Thank you” to compliments more often, like he has taught me.

After he dries himself off, chest, torso, each leg, each arm, which is another ritual I love, he goes into the bedroom. I am thinking, “Time for me to get back to the laundry…” But instead of dressing, he gets into the bed and lays on his back, eyes closed, dick semi-soft and waiting. Oh, my my my. Forget the laundry. He doesn’t have to ask me twice, that’s for sure…

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