When I'm laying in his arms it's so very cozy that I am lulled into a sensation of utter contentment. No worries. No duties. No other people, even. There is just his body and mine and the lack of space between us. My atoms wriggle and mix into his and vise versa. We sigh in pleasure and serenity, sometimes in sync even. I wonder to myself how it could feel SO good- SO right. It's not like this is the first man I've cuddled with or felt cozy with. I can't explain it, really. It just feels so much better. He's very tall and I'm quite short so we can get tangled together in dozens of positions. We snuggle up close or intertwine our limbs. We fall asleep like that on my favorite nights or lazy afternoons. 

It's weird for me to tend to him as intimately as I want to. It feels so strange to want to make him thrilled. Not just happy, but thrilled. It's not something he demands, though he discusses his preferences for things and discreetly offers up a nudge in different directions sometimes. How subtle he is intrigues me.

But more bewildering is how intensely eager I am to ensure he's thrilled. I always want everything to be perfect for him. I adore watching him relish my love and attendance. And he does notice and he does relish it. He sees it in the details. I do this in all things. In bed. At home. When we travel. With his child. With our business. On and on.

For example, I'm a chef and I cook his favorite foods, mostly organic and often in ways that are more intricately prepared than even fine restaurants offer. Some meals are prepared for his delectable joy to provide extra nutrients and protein because he works out and body builds. I know these things are important to him so our tacos have beans and organic diced tomatoes added to the lean taco meat mixture now. I pay attention and I always look for ways to improve things. Sometimes he takes pictures of these meals and asks questions about things I've done.

He notices that there are multiple layers of details in everything I do for him. He notices that I made a homemade relish which incorporated many ingredients just to stir into the ham salad because the recipe called for relish. He remembers that I baked that ham on the bone and meticulously cut and served it. He comes into our kitchen and he always offers some assistance. He always does what I ask, and usually paid attention to how I did that task in the past because I am very detailed oriented. So he wants to do it "right" like I prefer.

I love that he notices and is gently appreciative because it lets me hide the intimacy of what I'm doing a little bit. It gives me a reprieve that it's a casually accepted gesture of love to tend to the details like I do. Because I know he knows that it makes me feel vulnerable and over exposed to be THIS excited to please him. I know he understands that it's not just cooking or perpetually organizing his closet or resolving business issues that I'm doing. It's an intimate gesture of an abandoned selfless love. It's an exposure of the shift in my life's focus. So for me, it's strange that someone can see the evidence of how deeply I love them, how intimately I'll give them their fondest heart's desire if it's in my ability to do so. And if it's not, then I'm inclined to learn to be able. How can someone like me be so vulnerable? So unrestrained in my love? It's frightening and magnificent at the same time. 

He works a lot. Sometimes in the lazy mornings he wraps his strong, lean arms around my body and pulls me close. He buries his head in my neck and kisses me and murmurs loving words in his deep sexy voice. He cuddles me until I'm wet and wriggling against him in utter need. Then he grants my hearts desire and slides hard and deep into me, rocking me until I cum. Maybe he cums with me but usually he waits because he understands I'm going to need him again and again later. He holds me for a few more moments while I pant and sigh in satisfaction and he asks me "Did that feel good for you?". He knows it always does. 

Other times he's up before birds are singing. I whine around a little about wanting a morning cuddle while I'm half asleep. He kneels back down into the bed and kisses me softly and tells me how good I feel. But I can feel his mind elsewhere, already ahead of his day, working, planning. I roll over and go back to sleep on mornings like that. But I wake up squirming. I always want him. I feel like my brain has gone insane. My thighs open and I press my pelvis to the bed, arch my back and mew out softly in need, I hope he hears me and comes to see what his good girl is doing without him. On these busy mornings he comes in and kisses me lightly here and there. He does it to be close to me. I wonder if he knows how it makes me wet, how it makes me moan into my pillow when he's gone and wish wish wish him back... in our bed.... my head down, my pussy up, my legs spread. I groan a little to myself and wonder how I got like this.