Jul 2, 2017
Silly Sex Rituals
Episode V
Noah and Celeste were celebrating their five year anniversary. They spared no expense. Dinner at Hartford’s Seaside Shack, a table nestled in the corner, aglow with candlelight. There they could watch the lobsters and crabs fritter and frolic in the tanks in the quiet moments before their imminent demise. They ordered oysters, because one of them had read about how oysters are supposed to be an aphrodisiac. The plate arrived with the shells already pried open and embedded in finely shaved ice. Two lemon halves were encased in a fine green mesh to prevent accidental seed ejaculation.
“Bon appetit,” their server said.
Noah reached for the chilled bottle of champagne in the bucket and poured until the fizz threatened to overtake the rim of Celeste’s glass.
“Is this your first time eating oysters?” she asked.
“It sure is, cookie. You know I’m not so big on seafood.”
“I know. It must be a big effort for you to be doing this for me.”
“I do it for love.”
Celeste made that special kind of aww sound and the blood gushed into her cheeks.
“To us.”
“To us.”
Their glasses tinkled and Celeste held hers up to eye level to check for any sunken jewelry floating at the bottom. Noah’s proposal had gone awry when her nerves got the best of her in anticipation of his drop to one knee and so she went bottoms up on a diamond encrusted ring. Since then, she made it a habit to always check to be sure.
“I don’t mean to break the mood,” Noah said, placing the napkin on his lap, “but don’t these oysters kind of look like alien vaginas?”
“Were you saving that line to remind me why I fell in love with you in the first place?”
Noah smiled and took an oyster in hand. He put the shell to his lips, closed his eyes, and slurped. The slimy, briny mollusk caught in his throat for a second. He resisted the urge to gag and spit it out. Love meant swallowing, at least in this case.
Celeste quaffed hers down like an old pro, then suggested Noah give his second round a liberal squeeze of citrus.
“Tell me,” he said. “Is this supposed to mask the flavor or enhance it?”
“Can’t it be both?”
She had bewitched him, once upon a time, and now they were ready to seal the bonds of their marriage with a child. Not that there weren’t hesitations along the way. They liked the freedom of doing what they wanted, where they wanted, when they wanted. Their sex life was fireworks for the first year. It then sputtered, waxing and waning like the seasons.
In the beginning they swore that would never happen to them. Later, they told themselves this was natural, that it happened to every couple at some point. The volcanic rush of lust inevitably cooled, solidifying into a foundation they called love.
Or maybe they just got bored. Sex became rote, routine, a clank of beer bottles before the first sip. The experiments subsided in favor of the tried and true. Except anal, which they broke out from time to time to keep some spice in their life.
Back in their love shack, Noah brushed his teeth with one hand and fluffed his penis with the other as a kind of pre-game ritual. He imagined going hilt deep on his wife and then filling her with his seed. Meanwhile, Celeste sat on the toilet. She tried to distract herself with Candy Crush, and that’s when Noah appeared at the door.
“I’m ready!” he said, flapping his engorged member in circles. “The pink dragon flies again.”
Celeste rolled her eyes, then pushed the door and replied, “Okay, I’ll be there in just a minute.”
Atop the bed was a mountain of pillows. Noah reached under the bed for a box containing an arsenal of old sex toys: vibrators, anal beads, a purple dildo with a suction cup, a half-used tube of lubrication, a blindfold, handcuffs, and a pack of cigarettes. Just in case.
Celeste arrived in ruby red lingerie. Noah reached for his phone and selected a Spotify playlist he had prepared for this very occasion. The suave sax of “Careless Whisper” belted out of the tiny speaker. Noah sat at the side of the bed and motioned for his wife to come closer.
She sashayed, moving her hips to the beat of the music until she found herself in his embrace. He ran his hands down the sheer leggings Celeste wore while she tousled his hair and caressed his adoring face. Then, placing her hand firm against his chest, she pushed him horizontal and confronted the pink dragon with her tongue.
Noah moaned in pleasure, but always felt a little self-conscious doing so. The pink dragon was a fragile beast and recoiled when confronted with too much teeth.
“Easy, babe,” Noah said softly. “You’re gonna make me come too soon.”
Celeste slid her panties down to her ankles and stepped free of them, then climbed atop Noah.
“We wouldn’t that now then, would we?” Some of her hair fell in front of her face and she brushed it back with a wild look in her eye. “Ready to ride, cowboy?”
Noah settled back into a supporting wall of pillows. “Ride or die,” he said.
She straddled him and guided Noah into her. She rocked her hips slowly at first, re-acclimating herself to the feeling. Then she bucked harder and harder, letting herself be taken away. The heavy thwap-thwap-thwap of colliding skin and the fervid grunts of euphoria drowned out the music on the phone. Noah sunk into the pillows, closed his eyes, and bit his top lip in a private struggle not to come.
What felt like thick droplets of Celeste’s sweat landed upon his stomach and chest.
“Oh god…” Celeste groaned.
“Oh god…” Noah sighed.
The sensation triggered some primal switch inside him and he came at once, hard and deep inside his wife.
After a few moments of heavy breathing, Noah opened his eyes to find Celeste literally bent over backwards. They were still connected at the waist. He sat up some and then saw the bed — and his body— absolutely covered in alien vaginas.
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