Back Rub

That back rub that starts at her
Shoulders after she comes home from
Work at the end of a trying day and
Keeps moving down and around as
Her back slumps against your chest
And her head falls on your shoulders and
Her long grey-streaked black hair
Is resting against your cheek and
You slip your hands under the sweatshirt
She changed into and begin to caress
Those big still-beautiful breasts that
Survived the suckling of two babies and
Time and wear and tear and still make you
Hard after twenty years of knowing them.
Hearing her little sigh as you lightly
Scrape your fingernails over her nipples and
Just continue, down, down until you’re inside those
Yoga pants and holding her warm woman’s
Liquid place in your hand and doing things
Decades of intimacy have taught you and she
Arches her back and comes right there on the
Sofa like a 155 going off with that peculiar
Shout she makes that sounds like pain but is
Release and she collapses back against you
And calls you an old bastard but her hand
Is covering yours and keeping it where it is
Inside her pants and you have just enough
Time to breathe in and out a few times and
Kiss and cuddle and live in that moment before
The kids come tearing in hungry as bears to find
Mom and Dad quietly reading on the sofa.