I Seduced My Own Husband Last Night

Eleven years married, two kids sleeping down the hall, and I went after that man like he was a stranger I'd just decided I wanted.

It started at the mirror, honestly. I was taking off my earrings and I just caught myself. Really looked. And I thought, when did I stop seeing this woman? When did she become someone I just pass in the corridor?

So I put the earrings back on. Found the lipstick I keep for owambe, the deep one, Tulip Passion, and painted my mouth like I had somewhere to be. I didn't. I had a man on the bed behind me with a laptop on his thighs, frowning at a spreadsheet like it owed him money.

I put on the song. Our song. The first-dance one that somehow turned into just a ringtone over the years.

He looked up.

Eleven years and I still know the exact second his face changes, when the husband goes and the man shows up. He closed the laptop. Or it closed, I don't know, I wasn't looking at the laptop. He said my name like a question.

"Come here," he said.

And I didn't budge. Because there is nothing more fun, Swēt, than a woman shrugging away when she knows a man is craving her. So I took my time. I turned and walked toward the door, and I could feel his eyes on every single step I took.

Before I knew it, the man was off the bed. He came after me, and just as I reached the door he caught me and pulled me back against him. He'd told me to come. Now he was promising, low in my ear, to make me come.