You got a picture of married sex, right? Two old folks laying in bed, paunch to paunch, too little hair up top, too much down south, peering into each other’s rheumy eyes, wishing they could, just one more time, experience that frission of heat you get in a one-night stand as they mechanically fondle, penetrate and climax. Same ol tits, same ol ass, same ol dick and same ol puss. Four minutes on each…uh…uh…uhhhhh. Then fitful sleep clinging to the side of the bed, avoiding the puddle in the middle, wondering how a life that promised so much could deliver so little.
It ain’t pretty, it ain’t cool. But it’s marriage. Or so you might think.
This issue, we decided to celebrate surfing’s greatest love affair. Our own Adolf and Marlene, our Heath and Mary-Kate, our Kev and Britney.
I write, of course, about that sun-fondled couple from the North Coast of NSW, whose life has been devoted to getting the word “cetacean” pronounced correctly, who once braved the harpoon of livid Orientals in the bloodied bays of Japan, who frolic in oceans as mermaid and mer-man for cameras and who epitomise healthy living, in body and spirit. Perfection on many levels.
I refer to Dave and Hannah Rastovich.
In Hawaii late last year, we photographed the happily married couple as they avidly caressed for our lens.
It is sexy, it is hot, it is erotic.
But it is also tender and loving.
Note the way David stares meditatively past his woman as she possesses him cowboy-like; see how Hannah cups her terrific bosom as David lays spent, planning his next environmental adventure or a signature trunk that emits not one megabyte of carbon. Look closely at the interplay between the deepest of loves and that most fiery of orbs.
Read, watch and learn. – Derek Rielly.
Editor’s note: Two months after this shoot, Dave and Hannah decided to separate. Stabs asks that you please respect their privacy during this difficult time.