filed in Sex and Dating
What Would You Do with a Husband for a Day?
MUT’A or temporary marriages were designed to allow sexual outlets for men and women under certain circumstances, without subjecting them to the otherwise harsh penalties of nonmarital sex. MUT’A was condemned by Sunni Muslims, but accepted by Shiites and by Babylonian Jews, who allowed a sage entering a new town to request a “wife for a day.” —from “Marriage, a History” by Stephanie Coontz
Since this is my fantasy, let’s assume a Jewish calendar, when the day starts at sunset. He arrives a little early, because we’re not quite married yet, and he’s still trying to make a good impression. We drink Manhattans.
He tells me I’m beautiful. From the first moment we met, which was yesterday, so there’s no time to mull it over, get ambivalent and flee, he knew I was the one. My dark eyes and warm smile won him over. He loves my intellect, and learns something whenever I open my mouth, he says. But he doesn’t want to talk right now, he prefers to kiss me. He takes the Manhattan out of my hand, plucks the cherry from the glass and puts it in my mouth. His kiss is tender and inquisitive. His lips taste sweet.
We leave for dinner. He opens the car door for me. I know it’s old-fashioned, but I like it, and for this one day, there’s no need to be politically correct. The restaurant is buzzing. He orders a Sonoma Pinot Noir, my favorite. How could he know? We’re obviously on the same wavelength. There’s no delving into past relationships, no talk of children or parents who didn’t love us enough and no red flags. It doesn’t matter if he’s financially solvent or owns a home. Only if there’s cash to get through a day. (He still needs vision and talent. Because that’s part of the appeal.)
I am wearing a black bra with a see-through chiffon blouse. I can afford to be sexy, right away. I don’t have to strategize, only doling out a little each time, and controlling my signals. I know he wants me and whatever I do will please him. He’s vocal that way. Our lovemaking is slow. It takes hours to get undressed. We’re practically purring.
We sleep in. He slips out from under the covers, finds the coffee and fixings for blueberry pancakes. He’s a natural in the kitchen, and hums, while washing the dishes. After a leisurely walk, and more unimaginable sex, our time is almost up. We click so well. We practically finish each other’s sentences.
I walk him to the door. I don’t wonder if he’s ever going to call again. I don’t have to analyze each move to know if it’s a precursor for something deep and awful down the road. There is no down the road.
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Nice fantasy! Actually, I find the repercussions of this concept very interesting. Because I think the sense of shame that comes along with “hooking up” is still very prevalent in our culture for me and for women. Hooking up is not sacred or at the very least, respectful. At least, I have not found it to be. Its usually drunken and most often embarassing. I’m not all that into polyamory because I kinda find that whole culture that goes along with it a little hard for me to fit into. But, it would be nice to have a husband for a day. It would be nice to step into love with someone for a day and then step back into real life. It would be nice to have the lovemaking BE sacred and not immeshed in our daily crap. Fascinating thing to think on.