“Ugh” I growled under my breath. During the night Tina had turned over so she was now snuggled, face first, into my chest. This protected her from the dazzling morning sun that was glaring through the bedroom window right into my face. Too late, I was awake and the need to pee was upon me, so I slipped out of bed and put on my robe on the way out of the bedroom. I planned to put the kettle on then use the downstairs loo as I was sure using the en-suite would wake Tina up, and after everything yesterday I was certain she would be wiped out.

As I walked into the kitchen Claire turned to me with an evil grin on her face. “Good morning,” she said.

Screwing my eyes up a little I paused wondering at what she wasn’t saying, “Morning, Angel.”

“Would sir like a coffee?” The innocent look on her face was as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but like her mother, her eyes were so expressive they told another story.

I barked out a laugh before saying, “Don’t say anything to your mother, she’ll be mortified!” The look on her face was telling me she wasn’t so convinced. “Seriously,” I said, “not this time and if you see Chelle before me, let her know.”

“Is something wrong, dad?”

“We had a bit of a heart to heart yesterday, which culminated in us reconnecting last night.”

It was Claire’s turn to bark, “Sorry, but your choice of words…”

I shook my head. “Yes, please, I’ll have a coffee and a couple of slices of toast if you’re making,” I asked as I continued to the loo for the other part of my morning quest, the need to pee. As I sat there (hey, standing and peeing with morning wood is difficult!) I started reflecting on the events of yesterday. I couldn’t believe we had come back to where we were before we were married; we really needed to talk and see if we could find what the block was. Then there was her reaction to being spanked; she had never shown any really submissive traits before, in the bedroom we each had times being a little of each, something else for us to explore. Maybe we needed to have a good look at our lives now the girls had, supposedly, grown up and flown the nest.

As I returned to the kitchen, I heard my offspring giggling; Michelle had obviously got up while I was away. “Morning, Princess,” (Michelle had grabbed that title by virtue of being first born, leaving Claire to only be my Angel) I said as I sat down.

“Morning, dad, is Missy not joining us?” She smirked, but the glare I gave her and then Claire made her stop short of laughing.

“Look, girls, you both know the score, I’ve never shied from any subject with you, not the same could be said for you two, in fact your mother’s and my sex life was always the one thing to get you both going ‘Eww, dad!!’ I’m happy to laugh about it, but, especially at the moment, it’s potentially a very sensitive area, so please, tread lightly, I think we are going to be doing a lot of talking and soul searching now that you two have made us redundant.” I held up my finger to stop the protests. “You both know what I mean, we’ll always be here for you, but you’ve started the next part of your lives. Your mother and I have to look at ours and where we go and what we do with the rest of ours.”

“Dad, you make it sound like you’re about to split up or pop your clogs,” Claire piped up.

“No, but we’ve spent over twenty years dedicated to you two, now we’ve got the time, space and money to focus on us. I can’t think of a better way to spend it all than with your mother and maybe in time, some grandkids.” That one always killed the conversation. What I hadn’t realised was that Tina had come in, until she put her arms around my neck and kissed me on the cheek.

“I can’t think of a better way to spend mine either,” she said, then kissed me passionately on the lips now I had turned to look at her. “I love you,” she said, as she broke off.

“Only because I’m such a bastard, though? I love you too, more than ever.”

“Okay, guys, enough of the PDAs! Mum, do you want some breakfast while I’m cooking? Sausages, bacon, anything else that’s meaty?” Michelle nearly choked on her drink as Claire said this; luckily, Tina didn’t get it or refused to react. I just sat and shook my head. After that, Claire finished up and sat with us and the rest of breakfast was taken up with talk of our plans for the day and weekend. The girls had plans to meet up with friends from school and I had my last rugby match of the season.

“Of course, I’m coming to watch, I always come to your last match.”

“But you said IF I’ve got a match today,” I replied.

“Yes, I know, but I also knew it was your last game, I was playing with you.” Which caused the girls to start giggling and earned them a sharp look from their mother and, “How old are you two?”

“Not too old to be put across your knee?” Chelle replied

“Apparently,” Claire added, the pair of them barely holding it together at this point. Their mother did have a point.

After sighing, I asked if the girls would be back for dinner and neither was going to be, so I suggested that Tina and I go out for something to eat followed by a little dancing. I got more ribbing from the girls about finally having the courage to ask their mother on a date and so on.

With smiles on our faces, we cleared up after breakfast and went our separate ways, as much as you can in the same house. The girls did what they do, I guess making or finalising arrangements for the weekend and their holidays. Tina was checking the weather before getting dressed so she would know what to wear to the club today. I went through my usual pre-match routine, checking my boots’ laces and studs, packing my kit along with the various and numerous strappings and lotions that got my aging bones and muscles through the eighty minutes. When I went into the bedroom to get washed and dressed Tina was in the shower but had laid out a couple of outfits on the bed.

I’m not the tallest man, but I do have nine inches on Tina and after decades of rugby and the related training along with just general fitness and well-being, I was significantly bulkier. It was this that enabled me to take both the skirts she had got out and put them onto my legs, one on each. My thighs were not as big as in my twenties but still measured twenty-six inches around the largest part, which meant I could not quite get one of her skirts all the way up one leg and do it up.

With a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks, Tina has always reminded me of a sexier version of Eve Myles, though shorter and naturally blonde. She has a petite twenty-five-inch waist and thirty-three-inch hips; if her eyes didn’t trap me her body would have. She didn’t put on masses of weight carrying either girl, but I do admit I liked the increased cup-size, not that I would change her for anything. And then she stepped out of the bathroom, her wet hair hanging just below her shoulders, drawing your eyes down her perfect body. I know I’ve gone on a bit about my body, but Tina also kept herself in good shape with the gym twice a week, martial arts once and yoga most mornings. There was nothing about her body that wasn’t firm; she didn’t have any bulk or well-defined muscles, just smooth lines to her skin flowing from her shoulders past her perfect and pert boobs, over her stomach past her neatly trimmed mons and smooth vagina to her slim legs. Seeing her standing there, I think I fell in love one more time.

“A vision of loveliness,” I said and she burst out laughing at me.

“What?” I asked.

“How are my skirts?”

“Oh! I thought you’d left them out for me to try on.”

“You really are a silly bastard,” she grinned, “and thank you.”

I undid them and took them off, walked over to and gathered her in my arms kissing her hard, before being pushed away. “Ugh, morning breath!!”

“I know, now shift,” I reached behind and slapped her toned, ample but not too big bum to move her out of the way so I could get myself washed and dressed.

About fifteen minutes later I was showered, and teeth finally cleaned, not shaved; you don’t shave before a rugby match, at least I never had. I came up behind Tina, who was just finishing putting her hair back into a ponytail. Damn! She looked good; she was wearing a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, nothing outstanding as she would be spending an hour and a half stood at the side of the pitch. But boy did her bum look good, nicely rounded, but also firm and tight. Grabbing a cheek, I put one arm around her waist, pulled her to me and kissed her neck, making sure to leave a little red mark from my stubble there. “You ready? I’ll go get the car out.”

“Two minutes,” she replied.

She strolled out of the house after adding boots to her ensemble and I nearly gave up my day and dragged her back inside. Tina in boots and jeans, I could die happy.

We arrived at the club a short while later and I kissed her briefly and went into the changing room and she went into the bar to meet some of the other long-suffering wives and partners. At forty-four, I was one of the oldest regular players, but for the last couple of seasons had only played in the Vets' (veterans, over thirty-five) team. It was supposed to be easier as you didn’t have all those young bucks trying to prove themselves; instead, it was a field of wily old dogs that knew every trick in the book. The game was hard and a close-run thing, but we came out on top by four points and boy did my body know it; I was getting too old for this.

After a shower and dumping my kit in the car I went into the bar and my lovely wife was, as always, the centre of attention. She didn’t come to every game, but when she was there, she attracted men and women like filings to a magnet. I had heard every comment from sexy, cute, sweet, charming, horny (that one nearly got someone a slap), you name it, but they were all compliments and the more people knew her, the more the compliments were about what a lovely person she was. I was so proud whenever I saw her, for want of a better expression, holding court; people were either rapt listening to her or she was intensely focused on the person talking, one of her great skills; it made whoever she was listening to feel as if what they had to say was the most important thing.

It was as I watched I thought of Newton’s famous phrase, “If I have seen further it is because I have stood on the shoulders of giants,” as several of my club mates who I know topped six foot four inches bent down to listen more intimately to her. I saw her glass was running low, so bought her another beer and had a juice for myself, then strolled over, kissed her and handed her the drink.

We circled the bar a few times, together and separately, chatting to everyone, both home team and visitors. I loved the reactions of my friends, some of whom I had known since playing in the youth teams, as she spoke with people; you could see a hint of jealousy, but the overriding feeling was that of protective brothers. I know I have spoken of this to a few of them and we all feel a little the same way over each other’s wives, our bond built over thirty years of playing and socialising together, moving from teammates to close friends and all that entails. After a couple of hours, we said our goodbyes with the odd threat to call me for a couple of the seven’s tournaments.

As soon as we were in, I filled the bath using various potions she had collected to try and relax my muscles and got in to soak for half an hour. I lay there and thought that was probably my last game as it was getting harder and harder on me and taking longer to recover. And with that thought of another chapter coming to a close, I grabbed my shaving gear and sorted my face out. I doubt I’ll ever be mistaken as a Hollywood hunk, but I scrubbed up okay if I said so myself, though I did notice the start of a black eye.

I got myself out of the bath and rinsed off quickly with cold water in the shower, got dried and then went and got dressed for the night. A simple pair of trousers, a shirt, jacket and shoes, nothing flash, but smart enough to warrant having the most wonderful woman in the world on my arm for the night.

Well, I walked into the living room and boy did I feel inadequate; my two beautiful daughters were ready for their nights; both stood a couple of inches taller than Tina. Michelle got her build from my side of the family and was a little more filled out. Claire was almost the spitting image of her mother, except, like Michelle and me, she had brown hair. Both had their mother’s eyes; god help any men they meet. I walked over and was about to start talking to them when they both stopped and stood open-mouthed. I turned and saw Tina walking across the room.

Her dress was of the little black variety, about three inches above her knee; it had a halter neck with a choker collar and the neckline dropping to just below the top over her boobs. She did a twirl for us and if I wasn’t sure before, this left no doubt that she couldn’t be wearing a bra as there was no back to the dress down to her waist, where, by the witchcraft of women’s clothes, it clung like a glove showing off her shapely bum before flaring a little below. To top (or bottom) off the outfit, she had on dark nylons and a pair of black leather boots that came to just below her knee and had a three-inch heel on.

She smiled and walked over to us, putting her fingers under the jaws of the girls and closing their mouths while allowing me to bend and kiss her cheek; she couldn’t have me smudging her lipstick, just yet. I noticed then she wore the necklace that I had bought for our fifteenth wedding anniversary, a gold chain with a crystal pendant. Inside, engraved by laser, was written: “love forever”.

Wishing the girls a good, safe night, I held Tina’s jacket for her while she slid her arms into it and we headed out. As I helped her out of the car, I discovered that she was wearing tights and I swear I got a glimpse of smooth pink flesh underneath them at the top. Was she wearing knickers? It was a fleeting glimpse and she was out of the car as if nothing had happened.

We were seated by a window near the back overlooking the gardens and several couples who were brave enough to take a table out there; if it’s not too cold to eat outside, you’re probably sharing it with some bug or another. It was a lovely meal and we talked about many things: what the girls were up to and had planned for the holidays, my retirement from rugby, Tina’s plans for next week, but avoiding mention of Friday; it really wasn’t the place. We also flirted like we were teenagers including plenty of holding hands and playing footsie.

The meal was followed by coffee, cappuccino for me and a Calypso coffee for Tina and when I paid the bill, I could see she was ready to move on. The bar we were going to was just along the road, so I wrapped my arm around the most precious jewel in the world, just holding her coat over her shoulders, and strolled along enjoying the peace of the warm spring evening in the company of the woman I loved.

We had been to this bar a few times so when we entered, Tina went to find somewhere to sit while I went to get our drinks. We had barely separated when I heard a squeal followed by Tina shouting, “Pack it in!”

I turned to see what had upset her and she was facing down some hulk of a man. To be honest, I wasn’t overly worried that she would be able to deal with it, but all the same, I walked over.

“Dressed like that with a cute little arse like yours, what do you expect?” said the stranger.

“A little bit of respect, some manners and real men who act like gentlemen!”

'Ouch,' I thought, though I also wondered if he picked up on what she had said, as he carried on regardless.

“Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. Please, let me by you a drink and perhaps I can take you for a dance to make it up to you?”

“Ooh, yes a drink would be nice. I think I’ll have a Black Russian. I’ll be over at that table,” said pointing to where she had spotted a table and off he trotted to the bar. She looked at me grinning.

“You still want that drink or am I just buying for me?” I said raising my eyebrows.

“I’m not drinking something that…gentleman…brings me. Given how polite he was, I wouldn’t put anything past him.” Shaking my head, I went back to the bar, but when I finally got to our table, Lover Boy was sat there trying his hardest.

“Yes?” he said, as I sat down.

“What?” I replied.

“What are you doing, can’t you see this table is taken?”

I looked at Tina, who was smirking. “I was thinking much the same. Tina dear, would you mind introducing me to your friend?”

“Oh, of course, sorry. Luke, this is Eric. Eric, this Luke…my husband.”

I stood and offered my hand to Eric, who stood and reciprocated. The inevitable squeeze came and as I raised an eyebrow at him, a snide grin came across his face.

“So, are you one of ‘those’ husbands?”

“No idea what you’re going on about, pal. Tina, what’s he going on about?” She just looked at me and shrugged. As we sat down, Eric was still grinning.

“It’s okay, I’ve met couples like you before, you know, first-timers. There’s no need to be embarrassed, we all have our kinks. I’m happy to break you in gently.”

The penny finally dropped and I burst out laughing. “I think it better if you leave us be. First, you grab my wife’s arse and to be honest you’re lucky your balls are still connected.” He stood up, pushing his chair back and over. Remaining seated I looked up and continued, “Oh, not from me,” nodding my head toward Tina. “Then you are suggesting what? I want a threesome? I’m a cuckold? Whatever you’re selling, we’re not buying, so if you don’t mind, be a good chap and fuck off.”

“Look…” he started, leaning over the table at me. As I stood, I narrowed my eyes, looking more about him that at him. Now, Eric stood about three or four inches taller than me, but as I was about to say something, I saw someone who made him look small walking up to him. This monster of a human stood at six foot eight, weighed in at twenty-two stone, had a fifty-inch chest, both ears were cauliflowered and his nose looked like it had been spread across his face in all directions.

“Everything okay here?” said the newcomer.

Eric spun and looked up and to his credit did not back off too much. “It’s private, nothing to stick your nose into.”

“Wrong on two counts. One, Luke is a teammate of mine and two, this is my bar and I don’t want any trouble in here.”

Eric did back down at this and looked from me to Big Steve. Steve had played second row behind me countless times over the years.

“All’s good, thanks, Steve, Eric was just going to get a drink and leave us to enjoy the rest of the evening,” I said.

Eric half nodded and went off to the bar and I invited Steve to join us, where I questioned his statement about owning the bar. He explained how he had really bought it more as an investment and had a manager to run it, but obviously took an active interest in the welfare of his business and his customers. He had seen Eric’s chair topple over and it wasn’t until I stood up that he noticed us.

“You can look after yourself, but I’d never fail to help out my favourite Pisky,” he said, referring to Tina. Steve hailed from Kernow, or Cornwall as us ‘foreigners’ call it.

“Ha! She’s more capable than me. You do remember she got her first dan last year?”

“I had forgotten, Miss Kung Fu.” He took Tina’s hand and kissed it.

“Taekwondo, actually,” she said and after he apologised continued, “you can make it up to me by taking me for a whirl later.”

With the deal struck, we chatted with Steve for about ten minutes before he got up to go saying he was not surprised I had not asked for Eric to be ejected, “You’re too forgiving by half at times,” which earned a laugh from Tina. He wished us a good evening and left us to it, but not before getting us another round of drinks.

We eventually got around to dancing; both of us loved to strut our stuff. Tina was great and seemed to flow with the music. For me, becoming a parent was finally the excuse I had been waiting for to use my full repertoire of dad-dancing moves. Through the evening, Tina also danced with Steve which seemed like a trigger as other men came and asked to dance with her. Some asked Tina directly and she always referred them to me and were, without fail, refused. Others asked me if they could dance with her and the opposite happened except for the end result: no dance. The final group asked me if they could ask Tina to dance; these generally were accepted or at least told ‘maybe a bit later’. The principle was respect for me as her partner and husband, but not thinking I owned her. I don’t mind her dancing with other men so long as they are decent and don’t get too handsy and to tell the truth, knowing these men want Tina while I know she is all mine is great for the ego. It’s not too bad for our sex life either; she gets the buzz from having her ego stroked and I just have an urge to remind her I’m not going anywhere any time soon.

Two young men who did have a dance had them cut short as their hands got a little too mobile. One was pissed off about this and grabbed Tina’s arm and just as I stood to intervene, she bought her knee up to his groin, followed by a kick to his shin. As he straightened up, I was next to her. I just looked at him and said, “I really wouldn’t, because once she’s put you on your arse, I’m liable to keep you there.”

We had another dance and had been sat down a little while when a beautiful young brunette in her late twenties to early thirties made a beeline for our table. Tina spotted her and nudged me saying with a smile, “Looks like I might be the one getting green eyes on the next dance.”

“You know the score, just say ‘no’ and it doesn’t happen,” I said. Pressing my finger to her lips, I continued, “It’s not about fair, it’s about what we are both comfortable with.”

Tina smiled as the brunette said to me, “Excuse me for interrupting, I have noticed that,” she paused, “your wife?” I nodded to confirm she was correct, “has not been dancing exclusively with you and I was wondering,” she paused and looked over at Tina.

Tina smiled back and said, “It’s fine, you can ask.”

The girl turned back to me and said, “Would you mind if I asked your wife to dance?”

Tina nearly choked on her drink and I couldn’t help but grin. “Thank you for asking, please do, I only ask you respect her response.”

She smiled at me, nodded and turned back to Tina and said, “Hi, my name’s Chris, I was wondering if you would do me the honour of letting me have the next dance?”

Tina looked at me, then back to Chris before stuttering a response. “Erm, sure. Sorry, I’ve never been asked to dance by a woman before, so I’m not really sure how to…who leads…erm.”

Holding out her hand, “It’s fine, just think of me as any other dance partner, if there needs to be a lead, I’ll take it, okay?” Tina just nodded as she was led to the dance floor once more, glancing over her shoulder to look at me. This showed to me that she was nervous, but I think I detected something else: confusion, concern maybe?

Chris was an excellent dancer and moved with the same ease as Tina; it was fascinating watching their dresses flaring as they spun and colliding where they met. Then they would come together with a clinch; I noticed Chris’ hand go under the material at the side of Tina’s dress a couple of times without reproach. At one point she was turned and pulled in with her back to Chris, who held one arm out and placed her other on Tina’s belly in a ballroom style grip. This lasted more than a few seconds before she spun her away and then back front to front in just as tight a grip. If that was me, Tina would have felt the erection currently in my trousers pressing against her belly; damn, this was a hot sight!

As the song ended a slow one started, I saw Chris lean forward and say something to Tina, who looked over to me and when I smiled back, she shrugged and nodded. Chris pulled her in close with her arms around her waist; Tina put her arms under Chris’s curling up her back with her hands on her shoulder blades. I would guess Chris was about five foot six, meaning she had to lean forward and down to talk, while Tina looked to be resting her head on her shoulder at times. There was plenty of nodding, smiling and laughing and when the song ended Chris led her off the dance floor and back to our table.

She took both her hands and kissed them, before handing them to me and leaning forward and kissing me on the cheek saying, “Thank you. You are such a lucky man, Tina’s just wonderful, if you ever fuck up…” She left that hanging, letting me know exactly what she meant. “Now stud, get out there and claim the last couple of dances for you two.” She smiled at me, looked at Tina with almost a forlorn look, touched her cheek and walked off.

I put my arms around Tina’s waist on the dance floor; she linked her fingers behind my neck. “I think you snagged someone’s heart a little bit,” I said.

“Shut up and just kiss me! Then after this dance, you’d better get me home and fuck me!”

Who was I to argue? After the dance, we grabbed Tina’s jacket, said our thanks and goodbye to Steve and left to walk back to the car. En route, Tina pulled a napkin out of her pocket ‘07774 … … C x’. When she showed it to me, I took it and put it back in her pocket.

On the drive home I confirmed that, although Tina had tights on, she had no knickers underneath. We were chatting about the evening, everything that had happened, but nothing in great detail and I had my hand on her thigh. It just so happened to slip back along the smoothness of the silken material on her legs. Tina did nothing to stop me; in fact, she parted her legs as my hand got higher.

As my hand reached the apex, I could feel the heat coming off her sex and the moisture pushing through her tights. Tina slid her bum forward on her seat, spreading her knees wider, pressing herself against my hand harder. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried driving and negotiating your way around a pussy, especially one that is partially covered, but it’s not a straight forward as the books and films would have you believe. I had to stroke more than a few times along each side before I had worked out where the boundaries were, before stroking along the centre seam pushing it between her lips opening her up to me.

When I reached the top, I pushed the seam a little harder and started rotating my finger with it underneath. Before you ask, it was her sharp intake of breath that let me know I had reached my target. Given that I was driving and I had limited access, I concentrated on just stimulating her clitoris, though every time her breathing got ragged, I slowed down and ran my fingers along her lips a few times while she settled down. Each time I edged her like this there were little moans of frustration, but no real complaints as she knew the reward would be worth it.

When we pulled into the drive and parked, Tina was out of the car like a shot and I can’t say I was too far behind her. She was like a puppy dog, in my way as I tried to open the door. I hesitated and pushed my body against hers, leaning forward and breathing in her ear, “Someone is going to get such a smacked arse if they don’t let me in.”

“That’s unfair! If I let you in, I can drag you to the bedroom and abuse you, if I don’t I can’t, but I get my arse smacked…decisions, decisions.” The look on her face was so delectably wicked at the same time as being enticingly playful, I nearly took her there on the front doorstep and to hell with the consequences.

Laughing I pulled her back and slid the key into the hole (not a euphemism) and opened the door, bustling her through and kicking it closed behind me. Tina turned and launched herself against me, wrapping her legs around my waist and kissing me, forcing her tongue into my mouth. As I kissed her back, I put my hands under her bum to support her, one on each cheek pulling them slightly apart. I played my fingers along the crack of her bum alternately running them from her anus to her clitoris, pushing in where I found holes and back with my hands passing on her perineum.

As I walked toward our bedroom, I could feel her breath getting shorter again so slowed the movement of my hands, pausing where they passed, teasing her still, until she broke off her kiss and gasped, “Please…”

“I would have done more, but you didn’t remove all barriers to my success, so I can only guess at how green the grass is.”

I laid her gently on the bed, supporting my weight with my knees on the side as I unwrapped her legs, telling her not to move. I left her there for less than a minute while I attended to some things. She was in much the same position when I got back and put her legs over my now naked shoulders so she was fully exposed to me. Once again, I pushed the seam of her tights between her lips, but pushed further this time, entering her properly to a whimper from her. Looking in her eyes was like looking at a pair of marbles; they had totally glazed over, so I hooked my fingernails as best I could around the seam and pulled my fingers out.

When it was free, I gripped her tights properly and pulled, ripping a hole in them, which caused Tina to gasp and come back to reality a little, until I drove two fingers into her and felt her shudder and clamp down. I moved them slowly and pressed my thumb against her clit while curling my fingers up against the little rough patch that told me I had found her ‘G’ spot. This forced her orgasm deeper and longer. Just as her moaning seemed to be reaching a peak, I pulled my fingers out, grabbed my cock and started to rub the head against her lips, pushing deeper with each wipe until I entered her.

I didn’t stop, driving balls deep in one move. Tina responded by arching her back and crying, “Oh god, oh god!” over and over. After the teasing and the stimuli through the night, when her next peak hit a few minutes later, my love for her boiled over and I couldn’t hold back and came with her, both of us stiffening up, arching backwards and thrusting our groins together and moaning out loud.

While we lay spooning together, basking and recovering, we heard, “Eww dad!! Really? How old are you two?!” followed by giggling and closing of doors. Tina looked around at me with a raised eyebrow.

“I put a sock on the door handle. It always used to be the universal signal for Do Not Enter.”

She smiled and squirmed back a bit. “Seems it still is, given what’s going on back there, I might need to hang one on my bum,” she said, then giggled.

We made love again that night, nowhere near as frantically as the first time; this was loving and tender with kissing, caressing and stroking. Nibbling and tweaking of nipples instead of the biting and twisting of earlier, trying to kiss better all the love bites instead of adding to them. Rather than hard, back-twisting orgasms, we both had soft, shuddering peaks. They rolled through us like waves lapping on the shore of a lagoon, the complete opposite of the storm-driven waves crashing down from earlier, but no less satisfying.

After it all, two tired sweaty bodies, tied together through love, conjoined souls and some sheets and bodily fluids, fell into the sleep of the righteous, entwined in each other’s arms.

(Again thanks to rawraw25 for taking time out of his schedule to have a look over the draft and give me some pointers)