We have to be quiet. The boys are in the other room. But we’re used to this. Nadia wraps her legs around my waist, and I hold her in the air as I piston inside of her. Nadia’s arms grasp my torso for dear life. Her eyes arrest me. The taste of her groans is more than every dream I’ve ever had about Jourdan.

My fingers dig into Nadia’s ass cheeks. I might bruise her. I hope I bruise her. I love the way she comes when I’m a little bit rough. The way she opens herself the deeper I push. Nadia’s like a drug, and for the past few weeks, I’ve been too down to appreciate just how good my wife feels in my arms.

I almost wish I hadn’t let this escalate so I could have made it through dinner full of anticipation at what it would feel like to have her legs wrapped around me. I want to be excited to lay her on our bed and get her ankles around my shoulders and keep them there until we both pass out for a few hours and wake up to fuck one another to sleep all over again.

But there’s so much good in a quick fuck while we wait for the turkey legs to rest and the rice cooker to go off. We can hear the boys’ video game on the living room tv. We only have so much time before one of them remembers they aren’t actually an amorphous blob exploring a new planet looking for life-sustaining vegetation, but real kids with bodies and empty stomachs. We’re used to the time crunch of parenthood and know how to make best use of what little time we have.

I hold her in place by her ass and start to fuck into her with all I have, which is a lot, actually. I give Nadia weeks of pent-up frustration with myself and banked desire that this experience we’d been waiting for — with anyone at first, and then Jourdan, in particular — had slipped through our fingers.

Nadia holds onto my shoulders and moans into my ear. I should stop her — at least cover her mouth with mine — but she’s licking and nibbling at my earlobe, and I can’t. I won’t. I refuse. My balls are tightening, and my lower back is burning from the physical strain of holding her and fucking her and my coming orgasm. All I can do is make sure that this doesn’t last for too much longer.

I need Nadia to come. I need to come. But we need to be discreet.

“I think it’s time you meet her,” I whisper into Nadia’s ear. “I want you to know what this feels like.”

“What feels like?” she whines, just a little too loud.