Wendy sighed and dropped her purse to the passenger seat beside her as she got into her car. She knew this was wrong.  Liam didn’t deserve this kind of betrayal. But old loves are the sweetest, and she remembered his intoxicating old-musk smell, and how the light gleamed off his head. Any amount of risk was worth it.  She turned the key.

                                                ***

Peter hesitated before opening the door. Would she be there? He had to see her – it had been weeks, and he was almost crazy with longing for her long limbs and sweet, darting tongue.

“Peter? I’m in the shower.”  He walked to the open bathroom door and entered the bathroom, their steamy temple of illicit pleasure, letting first his jacket, then his best anchors trousers, then the rest of his clothing fall to the floor.

                                                ***

Wendy’s back arched to his touch and his arm slid between her legs, his fingers seeking her wet honey pot. His tumescent scepter pressed against her and he slipped it between her strong legs, rubbing its soft, fleshy head against her sensitive love-button. Low moans come from Wendy’s throat as he pressed her against the shower wall. This was bliss.