Make the Bed Over Your Wife
Get your wife between the sheets. And that’s it really.
My wife and I have turned off our various devices. We’ve brushed our teeth and put on our pajamas. I see her in bed, tangled up in the sheets. But there’s something in her eyes that tells me we’re not going to curl up and sleep just yet. They’re shining with a very specific desire and I know exactly what’s coming next.
“Will you make the bed over me?” she purrs.
Of course I will. I always will. It is the one thing I can do for her in bed that makes her happy every time. And, if that makes me sound like a lousy lover, so be it. My marriage doesn’t revolve around my penis and neither does my wife’s life. She’s got other wants and other needs. One of those is being tucked in. Do I know why? I do not. Do I recommend offering this service to your partner? Yes. It’s easy and far more rewarding than it has any right to be.
When I make the bed over my wife, the most obvious thing I’m giving her is a singular sensory experience. She starts out uncovered, vulnerable, and maybe a bit chilly. She then hears the soft snap of the sheet and feels it float down, pushing the air beneath it, parachute-like. Finally, it settles over her body, crisp and straight, with the lightest weight. Next, the blanket is laid over her, and then the comforter follows, adding that specific cozy weight that’s the prelude to sleep.
That’s all good, but honestly superficial and transitory, stuff. However, there’s something deeper happening: I’m also reaffirming our marital agreement and strengthening a bond. Is that an overstatement of a trivial favor? I don’t think so. Here I am, a husband providing real and immediate comfort. Yeah, I work to do stuff like pay a mortgage and provide health insurance and food, but those things become part of the white noise of daily living. An unwrinkled and tangle-free bed is immediate proof that I’m willing to do for her and ask for nothing.
Don’t get me wrong: Fucking those sheets into a ball at the foot of the bed is important as well. And I’ve been amazed that the longer we’ve known each other the better our sex has become. But despite how long we’ve known each other, sex has maintained a certain gravitas. It requires thought. We worry about how often it happens. We worry about how to make time for it. We worry about giving each other what we need.
There is no baggage attached to throwing the sheet over my wife’s body. It doesn’t mean anything if it hasn’t happened in a long time. It’s a treat. And I get something out of it too. When I see that sweet smile on her face, and hear her sigh and curl up as the comforter is straightened, I have the pleasure of having pleased her—obviously and undeniably.
Also, when I get into bed with her and take my place as the big spoon, I get the made bed too. And maybe we’ll mess the sheets up if cuddling turns into something more. Maybe we won’t. All I know is that if we leave the bed unmade in the morning, I know I’ve got another chance to do that one thing every man should do in bed to please his wife.
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