Couples counseling again tonight. I tried to get out of it earlier. I sniffled and told Phillip I might be too sick to go. He said the same thing my parents used to when I wanted to stay home from school on a Friday.
“If you’re too sick to go, that means you’re too sick to go out tonight.”
I really want to go out, so here I am.
As we’re walking down the hall to the pastor’s office, I tell Phillip, “I talked to Amy earlier. Can you believe that, exactly a month from today, we’ll be at our wedding rehearsal?”
Phillip snakes his arms around my waist, gently pushes me against the wall outside the pastor’s office, and kisses me. “It can’t come soon enough.”
I put my hands inside his coat, squeeze his sides, and press my body firmly against his.
He can make me want him with just one kiss.
His hands slide under the back of my shirt. I swear, his hands feel like fire on my skin.
I’m about to say, You’re needed in the restroom, Doctor. Stat!
“Ahem!”
I tear my lips away from Phillip and see Pastor John standing inside his office door. I didn’t hear the door open. I think my sense of touch is so overwhelmed when Phillip kisses me that the rest of my senses don’t function properly.
“Sup,” I say to him with a nod.
Oh. My. Gosh.
I’m so incredibly lame.
Who says sup to a pastor? I think the blood that normally flows to my brain is now congregating in other areas of my body. My dad once told me that boys think with their dicks. He said it’s because the blood flows there and away from their brains. I was thoroughly mortified by that comment, but now, I’m thinking it doesn’t just happen to boys.
My insides are pounding with desire. And, now that the pastor has seen us, I can’t pull Phillip into the restroom for a pre-counseling quickie, like I was considering.
Damn it!
Phillip and I sit in the stupid checkerboard chairs. Phillip looks at me with those eyes. I remember when Danny and Lori used to look at each other with those eyes. Like they had a secret no one knew but them. I remember wondering if I could ever look at Phillip that way. I can’t see my eyes, but his definitely have that look. I have a feeling we’ll be skipping Taco Tuesday tonight.
Pastor John loudly taps a pen on his desk. I was gazing into Phillip’s eyes and not really paying attention.
The pastor says, “So, tonight, we’re going to talk about sex.”
Oh, great. Like my mind isn’t already consumed with thoughts of sex. I’ve been mentally calculating how many more minutes it’ll be before I can attack Phillip. How many more minutes until I can strip him naked. How many more minutes until I can make him—
Pastor John’s grating voice interrupts what was just about to be a very hot daydream. “I’m sure it’s hard to believe at this stage in your relationship, but many couples fight about sex.”
Before I can stop it from coming out of my mouth, I stupidly say, “They do?”
I don’t wanna talk about this.
I just wanna go home now and do it.
Phillip slips off his coat. He has on a long-sleeved cream thermal Abercrombie shirt that seems to be losing the fight to contain his muscles.
I imagine ripping the shirt off him, letting those muscles be free to roam wildly across my body.
Pastor John drones on, “Yes, JJ, they do. Many couples go through a honeymoon stage. When it seems like sex is all that matters. There’s a lot of desire, but eventually, things simmer down.”
I seriously can’t imagine things simmering down with Phillip. But then I remember what his sister said the other day. They’ve been married only a few years, and I think they’ve simmered down.
“When does that usually happen? I think Phillip’s sister might be going through that right now.”
Phillip groans. “I don’t wanna hear about my sister’s sex life.”
It’s better than talking about our sex life, I would think.
Pastor John says, “It varies with each couple. What matters is that you’re able to discuss sex.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to just do it?” I ask. I mean, wouldn’t it?
“Well, of course, but as your marriage grows, you will have additional stresses. Time, money, self-esteem, children, and your relationship will all have an effect on your sex life.”
“But, if you love someone, wouldn’t you always want them?” I ask because this has been bugging me. I seriously would die if Phillip ever turned me down.
I’d probably divorce him.
I mean, if your own husband doesn’t want you, why bother staying married?
“It’s not that simple, JJ. Imagine, if you can, Phillip comes home one night and is tired from work. You’ve been home with the kids all day, and you are exhausted, too. He still has to go out and mow the grass, and you still have to bathe the kids and put them to bed. By the time you eat dinner, do your chores, and get the kids to sleep, do you think you will want sex? Or will you just want to go to sleep?”
Aside from the fact that his example is riddled with stereotypical and chauvinistic things, I get what he’s saying. I look at Phillip because I assume he’s going to answer the question, but he shrugs his shoulders at me. He doesn’t seem to know the answer.
How can he not know the answer? The answer is quite obvious!
“We’d have sex, and then we’d sleep.”
Duh!
Pastor John nods his head. And his nod is not in agreement with me.
I forget what else he says. He drones on about who will initiate it, keeping the spark, talking, talking, talking. I swear, his position on sex is that talk equals foreplay.
Ha!
Get it? His position on sex? I crack myself up.
I’d have to disagree with that. The last thing I wanna do is talk. I look at Phillip’s lips and picture them kissing me, not talking. I can almost feel them on my neck. My eyes glaze over as I think about all the naughty things I’m gonna do to him tonight.
Maybe I’ll make him go to Taco Tuesday. I’ll flirt with him. Bat my eyelashes at him. Run my hand up his thigh under the table.
Or maybe I’ll sit across from him. Slip my shoe off. Rub my foot between his legs. Drive him crazy.
He’ll be begging to go home.
But we won’t make it home.
We’ll barely make it to the car because he wants me so badly. He’ll throw me across the backseat, undo his pants, and—
“So, I guess that’s it for today,” the pastor says loudly with a clap of his hands.
The clap wakes me up. I still feel like I’m in the backseat with Phillip. It’s slightly disorienting.
We get in the car, and Phillip says, “So, Taco Tuesday. Yay or nay?”
“Definitely yay,” I reply.
Nothing wrong with trying to make a few of my dreams come true.
