Open your eyes to talk, close your eyes to make love

During the day, the beautician complimented my skin at the salon, which made me happy. The thought of him saying the same thing to my skin tonight filled me with a flustered feeling. But he lay listlessly in bed, his familiar body, disheveled pajamas, the room filled with an atmosphere utterly incongruous with romance. A slight disappointment crept in, but I still changed into my new, sexy black nightgown and softly said, “Darling, let’s sleep.” He rolled over and embraced me, his moist breath rising and falling near my ear. I looked up at him expectantly, only to hear him say, “Honey, there’s a ball game tonight, make me some late-night snack!”

My heart plummeted from its peak to its nadir. Dejected, I went to the kitchen, stood in front of the stove frying eggs, and tears streamed down my face. During our first love, we ate cake at home. Some cream remained on my lips, and he leaned over and lightly licked it with the tip of his tongue, then moved it around my lips and placed the sweet cream on my tongue. I playfully pushed him away, but he mischievously smeared cream all over my face, then kissed me gently. My body quickly went limp in his warm embrace. But romance had become a distant legend; I always had to take the initiative to “seduce” him before he’d even show a shred of interest. Today, I’d given him such obvious hints, yet he remained unmoved.

Tears welled in my eyes, mingling with memories.

I carried the fried eggs into the bedroom. He took them without a word of thanks, engrossed in the game, sometimes shouting excitedly, sometimes fuming. I crawled under the covers, burying my face in them, and finally, tears streamed down my face. Time ticked by, and I felt a growing sense of loneliness, like a solitary soul.

The clock struck midnight, the game was still on. I couldn’t take it anymore. Impulsively, I got up, turned off the TV, and hysterically yelled at him: “You go crazy over the game! Where did all our sweetness go? Have you ever thought about my feelings?” Then I threw down the remote, grabbed my blanket, and went to the study to continue my tirade.

From then on, we were in a cold war. Several times, he seemed to want to say something but then stopped himself.

On the evening of the third day, he came home earlier than usual. The door opened silently. He entered, habitually bent down, took off his shoes, washed his hands, and went into the bedroom. I was in the kitchen making his favorite banana salad, hoping to appease him and ease the tension. I took a few bananas from the refrigerator, slowly peeled them, revealing the creamy white flesh inside—soft, slender, like a young girl’s body.

Unbeknownst to me, he had already sneaked up behind me, and before I knew it, he had blindfolded me with a silk scarf. I feigned anger – “What are you doing?” He firmly covered my eyes with a silk scarf, making sure I was completely in darkness, then smiled and pressed closer, whispering in my ear, “Catch me, and I’ll untie you.” It was his way of making up, but it was also the romance I craved.

I eagerly moved away, and we played hide-and-seek like children, one groping in the dark, the other hiding in the light. Whether it was the power of love or our unspoken understanding, I could discern his direction without sight. Gradually, I walked from the kitchen to the bedroom, collapsing into his arms.

At that moment, my skin trembled, as if by telepathy. He didn’t remove my scarf, but instead enveloped me in his embrace. I shyly raised my head, searching for his lips in the darkness, but the heavy breaths between our noses made me completely disoriented. Our lips met, slightly moist, warm, and incredibly sweet, our breaths resonating, softly exuding a sweet, intimate fragrance.

In the darkness with my eyes closed, I fully immersed myself in this beauty. All familiar scenes vanished, leaving only the sensations. I felt his gentle caresses, and before me appeared a beach, azure water, and dancing seagulls… He embraced me in the sea’s embrace, softly imprinting love upon my entire body like water itself.

He delighted to notice the changes in my body, kissing me with increasing passion. The kisses were overwhelming yet gentle, flowing from my forehead, nose, lips, earlobes to the tips of my hair, igniting sparks in every part of my body. I responded passionately, and as we reached the peak of pleasure together, I was covered in sweat, my face flushed, and my heart overflowing with joy. Our cold war was completely melted away by our passion, replaced by an unprecedented sense of novelty.

I knew that because I couldn’t see him with my eyes closed, my familiar lovemaking was tinged with fantasy; and because closing my eyes restored my initial shyness and awkwardness, intimacy became bold and natural. Later, I became fascinated by the feeling of closing my eyes, and each of my imaginings was different. Sometimes, we frolicked in the green grass, the wind blowing, the lush grass swaying back and forth; sometimes, we were among the flowers, the fragrance intoxicating; sometimes, we were on beautiful white clouds, drifting and flying in the air… My body and mind felt as if they had grown wings, soaring to heaven time and time again in different ways. That feeling of anticipation mixed with fear, yet even more so with ecstasy, was enough to make one feel exhilarated, both on and off the earth.

Open your eyes to talk about love, close your eyes to make love. I like it, what about you?