‘Are we hosting a convention?’ I asked. ‘Just cooking ahead.’ He put the very large pot on the stove and brought out a bag of onions, a bag of... green peppers and a large bunch of celery. ‘Gumbo?’ I asked. ‘I thought we were making chili.’ ‘I like the ‘we.’ Gumbo today, chili tomorrow. What we don’t eat …’ He gestured toward the freezer then started to peel an onion. ‘I don’t know how much free time I’m going to have so I may not be able to help much in preparing meals. ‘I thought there was a. Care to tag along?’ ‘Sure! What does she need?’ ‘Oh, I was getting wine, candles…’ ‘Aha! Setting the mood in your love nest, were you?’ They shared a hearty laugh. ‘Seriously, Archie, that’s sweet, but you don’t have to do anything special for me. I’m just grateful to spend the day with you. And besides, Ginger’s coming over later and making cider. And I’d rather have that than anything else.’ ‘Really? Is Ginger a closet expert cider-maker?’ Samantha laughed. ‘My mom got her recipe from Aunt. He wanted to see and feel it forever. I want to be with you, he whispered to her. Me too, more than anything, she replied. Her emotions running high she yearned for him. Fuck me, fuck me hard she cried. She rammed herself down onto him as he obliged with an upward thrust, pounding into her so hard, she knew he was in as much as she could take. Fuck I love this, she cried, fuck me! Their bodies slammed into each other, sweat pouring from them as they entered the wave of ecstasy. I’m going to. It took me a lot longer to fall asleep. * The closer Friday came, the more devious ideas my husband had. I wanted to hate him for it, tried to not let these feelings deep inside me get stirred awake by his forceful treatment, but I failed. Each morning, I kneeled on the carpet in the entryway to send him off to work with his cock buried in my throat, embarrassed and thrilled, and I was still finishing swallowing his spunk when he tugged his softening tool away, closed the zipper and left.