It’s Sweater Weather. I Still Want to Be Undressed.
It’s Sweater Weather.I Still Want to BeUndressed.
Soft sweaters. Warm hands. An evening with a few possibilities.
A little warmth. A little trouble.
I love a good sweater.
The oversized kind. Soft against bare skin, sleeves pulled over my hands, slipping off one shoulder because I can never quite leave anything alone.
I love the excuse to stay in. Something simmering on the stove. A glass of wine. A book with a man in it who is almost certainly going to make questionable decisions.
But let’s be clear.
All this getting cozy hasn’t made me want to behave.
I still want to be undressed.
Slowly, preferably. We took the time to pick out the sweater. Someone should appreciate the process of taking it off.
There’s something about this time of year that makes closeness feel especially good. The air gets cooler, and suddenly I’m thinking about warm hands. A mouth against my shoulder. Someone stepping behind me in the kitchen when there is absolutely enough room to walk around.
Especially that.
The small, unnecessary contact. The hand that stays a moment longer. The kiss that interrupts whatever very important thing I was pretending to do.
Dinner can wait a minute.
What appeals to me is the way an ordinary evening can change without anyone leaving the house. You’re putting away groceries or deciding what to watch, and then someone looks at you in a way that makes you forget what you were saying.
You remember that underneath the sweater, underneath the day you’ve had, you have a body that likes being wanted.
And it has a few ideas about how the rest of the evening could go.
Room on the fall agenda.
We talk a lot about making our homes cozy this time of year. The blankets come out. The candles get lit. Everyone suddenly has strong feelings about soup.
I have strong feelings about soup, too.
I also have strong feelings about being kissed properly.
There is room for both on the fall agenda.
I want evenings with enough room in them to notice each other. To sit close without checking the time. To finish a glass of wine over a conversation that wanders somewhere unexpected. To let a little silence settle without reaching for a phone.
Desire needs some of my attention, and I know how easily I can spend that attention everywhere else.
There are messages to answer. Things to finish. Laundry that apparently intends to be a lifelong commitment.
By the end of the day, it’s easy to pull on something comfortable and disappear into the couch.
Sometimes that’s exactly what I want.
Other nights, I want to leave a little room for whatever might happen after I get comfortable.
I’m particular about the hands.
Of course, wanting to be undressed doesn’t mean just anyone gets to help.
I’m particular about the hands.
I like attention that pays attention. Someone who notices when I move closer. Who can enjoy the anticipation without rushing through it. Who understands that taking their time might be the very thing that makes me impatient.
Someone who makes it easy to say what I like.
There’s a lot of pleasure in feeling comfortable enough to be specific. In being able to laugh when a sleeve gets stuck or someone’s feet are freezing. In discovering that the evening can be sexy and slightly ridiculous, and neither ruins the other.
We can be adults with responsibilities and still make out on the couch longer than we intended.
I hope we do.
An evening of my own.
And on the nights I have the place to myself, I still get to enjoy being in my body.
The long shower. Lotion applied with a little patience. Clean sheets against freshly shaved legs, or unshaved legs, because I’m comfortable and nobody’s conducting an inspection.
I can put on the soft sweater, make something good to eat, and read until the house goes quiet.
I can enjoy that evening fully and still wish there were someone beside me.
Someone I’d willingly put the book down for.
That’s a fairly high bar, depending on the chapter.
For now, I’m welcoming the cooler evenings. I’m making room for a little warmth, a little anticipation, and plans loose enough to change.
Bring on the sweaters.
I have every intention of enjoying them.
Including the part where they
end up on the floor.