Thinking of you, Esmerelda coyly texted Reginald, her husband of 15 years, as she made her way home to him. And also thinking about how you said you’d put up the shelves last weekend. Are you ever going to get around to doing that? Reginald didn’t respond. She loved when he teased her like that.

As soon as she walked through the door, Reginald rushed to her, grabbing her waist and pulling her to him. He put his lips to Esmerelda’s ear and whispered deeply, “Just so you know, you left the light on in the garage when you went out, but I turned it off,” sending shivers up and down her spine.

Not to be outdone, Esmerelda reached toward the freezer to grab a single ice cube and ran it across Reginald’s neck as he moaned. This was the last one, Esmerelda cooed. I refilled the tray last time.

She took Reginald’s hand and led him to the bedroom. Let me slip into something more comfortable, she said, stepping into the walk-in closet to choose from her vast lingerie collection. When she emerged, she could see the yearning on Reginald’s face. Oh, he said, ravenous with desire. You’re wearing that?

Esmerelda pulled massage oil out from the nightstand drawer. Reginald took off his shirt and lay down, awaiting his pleasure. Huh, Esmerelda rubbed at his muscular pecs. Have you noticed you have a new mole here? Do you think you should get that checked out?

Reginald turned to put on a romantic playlist to set the mood. You know I hate this song, Esmerelda gasped, barely containing her excitement as she spoke rapidly and breathily. Hurry, skip it, faster, don’t stop until you get to one I already pre-approved.

After they finished, Reginald and Esmerelda turned to each other, satisfied. That was great, Reginald said. Yes, Esmerelda replied, her hair ravaged. That was pretty good for someone who forgot my birthday three years ago.