Pia is a painter, Edwin a writer. They met in high school and married soon after college. Now it is three years later, Father’s Day, and they are sitting on their padded parson’s chair sipping champagne and watching Phil Mickelson lose another important golf championship. “They say he’s a good father,” Edwin reports, when Phil fails to get up and down for a much-needed par.

“I’m sure you’d be a good father, too,” Pia replies.

“I’m sure as heck a horrible golfer,” Ed admits. He’d only played once, with his aunt and borrowed clubs when he was eleven. He made it through six holes before losing all his balls. Ed laughs at the memory.

“I’m serious,” Pia says. “You’d make a great dad.”

“You don’t think I’m too old-fashioned?”

“You’re just old-fashioned enough. What do you say?”

“You’re serious? You want to make a baby?”

Pia smiles. “No time like the present.” A few moments later she is naked.

“Wait here,” Ed tells her. Less than a minute later he returns with the magic wand he’s retrieved from Pia’s bed side table.

“What’s that for?” Pia asks.

“In the olden days they believed that a woman couldn’t conceive unless she had an orgasm. Lie back.”

Dutifully Pia reclines. Edwin helps her get her legs behind her head. “I feel so open,” Pia says.

“I’m going to make you even opener,” Edwin answers, and he switches on the wand. It makes a soft hum, like bees drowning in honey. Edwin applies it to the apex of Pia’s clit. “Your cunt is like the prettiest flower,” he tells her. “Oh, the dew is starting to come.”

“Quick, take out your penis,” Pia says. “I think I’m starting to come.”

“Your wish is my command,” Edwin says, and he manages to unzip his trousers while keeping the wand in contact with Pia’s excited clitoris. He holds his erection so Pia can see.

“So big! So lovely. Oh, I’m going to, I’m going to, oh, I am!” Pia gasps, and then she does, her inner flower gulping ardently.

Ed wastes no time. He hoists her up, impales her on his prick, and empties himself inside her convulsing cunt.

“Oh, darling, that was fabulous,” Pia says some minutes later. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“I think I might like twins.”