She lay, elbow on the bed, head propped on her hand looking down at him.
It was impossible, and yet it had happened. Here was the living proof lying beside her and the sperm she could feel in her vagina and the bed redolent of their coupling.
He was asleep now and she reached out and touched his light brown hair as if to reassure herself that he really was there. Then she touched his penis, still warm, wet and sticky with their mingled fluids.
I met Gwen at the restaurant, where I went for breakfast every morning, before work, after my wife, Linda, left me for a younger man. Just as I had no idea she had a lover, I didn't know my wife was unhappy enough to leave me. I mean, now that I think about it, she was pretty miserable, but what wife isn't? With everything, including sex so routine and predictable, the romance fizzles, after being married for a while. Still, totally clueless, I thought everything was the routine same, until it wasn't and until she was no longer there to cook breakfast.