Rough night, miss you honey

Some nights are easy, a little solitaire, a little reading, and off to dreamland.
Then there are nights like this.
I don't want to play mindless games, I don't want to read some smut novel about other men's quivering members, and dreamland has turned into either nightmares or just plain weird shit.
I want my husband to cuddle up to. I want him to keep me warm, I want to put my cold toes between his thighs, even though he screams like a girl when I do. Oh, to hell with it, I miss the sex. Webcam sex is not the same. He knows it and I know it, and it just plain sucks. It's not the real thing, not even close. I miss his broad shoulders, and the warmth of him. I miss the way he smells, like ... like man, ya know? Not sweaty and dirty persay, but just musky and sexy, like a man, not just any man, MY man. I miss having him spoon me, and wrap me up in his arms, and on cold fall mornings, waking up in his arms, which are always the right temperature, not too hot so I want to get up out of bed, just warm enough to convince me that there is no better place on earth, that I should never leave the warmth and protection of his big arms wrapped around me.
THAT, that is what I need tonight.
Can't have it, that's the pisser.
I just want him back.