“Honey, I’m home.”
She shucked coat, mittens, and boots in the entryway and chased him down for a hug, snow still melting in her hair. She nuzzled her frozen nose against his armpit with a happy sound: “You’re warm,” she explained, muffled by his shirt.
“Gee, thanks,” he smiled, unperturbed.
She pushed back against him urgently, hungrily, as he rested his hand on the base of her spine, and shoved her face into the pillow to better muffle her pleasured screams.
After sixteen years, the sex was still hella hot, but the neighbors were not so hot on the noise.
She didn’t realize she was slipping until she was halfway in the October-cold creek and scrabbling with no purchase, didn’t realize that she hadn’t caught herself until she was almost out again, hauled up by the handle on her backpack by her quick and vigilant spouse.
“My hero,” she shivered.
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