“Sex can be anything,” he said, almost seeming to need to just establish the point, “Just fun between two adults.”

I couldn’t argue with that, “Yeah, absolutely.”

“Hell,” he said, locking eyes with me, “We could probably have sex right now and it would be fine.”

“Whoa there,” I cut him off, holding my hands up.

An expression of innocence fluttered across his face, “What?”

“I’m married,” I replied with a laugh, playing his statement off as a funny and odd little joke.

His expression told me he didn’t look at it quite the same way. He had a thoughtful look on his face, like he was really considering the whole argument he had made in a sincere way.

He got up and moved across the room, sitting beside me on the couch. His movement drew my gaze and I found myself staring deeply into his entrancing eyes.

“Are you telling me you don’t miss it?” he asked.

I felt compelled to answer and to answer honestly and I struggled to contain myself. I felt my heart beating in my chest and my throat contracted as I swallowed hard.

“Well,” I replied, “I’m not going to-”

He cut me off, taking my hand in his he drew it over to him and pushed it down. He made my fingers brush the bulge in his pants while his eyes stayed locked onto mine and he spoke, “Tell me you don’t miss this.”

I had forgotten, in all of my remembrances of our time together I had forgotten that there was absolutely one feature of him that stood out above all of the others. I had forgotten about his massive cock.

It came back to me then, the real memories of our time together. The highlight reel.

I remembered him spreading me and filling me up like I had never been filled before. I remembered him pounding into me. I remembered the sessions that would go on for hours until we were both lying sweaty and exhausted and fully satisfied. I remembered that satisfaction, how he could make me feel. How he could work my body like no one ever had. Before or after.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted.