I thought I’d surprise her. Wear the outfit I married her in. It was our one-month anniversary. I changed in the break room and took off work early. Picked up some flowers to go with the necklace. The afternoon sun pouring down, unlike the rain that drummed the church roof on our wedding day.

I slipped into the apartment cat quiet. For the first time it occurred to me: what if she wasn’t home? But why wouldn’t she be? I thought about calling out, but instead I set the flowers on the coffee table and went to the bedroom door. Inched it open.

The soft purr. The breathy sigh. Her body glazed by sunlight. Her hair fanning the neatly made-up bed. An ice-blue dildo I didn’t know she owned pressed against her sex.

She gasped. Her body seized and bucked. Spasm after spasm.

Orgasm over, she lay back, legs slipping apart.

When I took a step towards her, she noticed me. Her mouth opened.

Six quick steps and I was at the bed, and a second later my mouth was at her cunt, my tongue driving deep.

Her hands went to my head. I feasted. Never had she been so wet. She seized again, her hands holding my head.

I wanted to fuck her, but I couldn’t take the time to get my cock free of my pants, so I kissed her.

She returned the kiss with a voraciousness beyond any kiss we’d shared before. Ferociously she sucked my tongue, then bit down, and it hurt. I managed to pull back.

I went to the bathroom to see about my tongue. By the time I got back to the bedroom she was gone.