Read by Greg Page
Gordon Collindale went into the bathroom to prepare for bed. Marjorie was waiting for him, and the tone of her voice when she’d suggested an early night hinted that she had planned something other than their usual forty winks.
Gordon sighed to himself. He wasn’t really in the mood. Middle age had seized a large portion of his libido, cruelly coinciding with the moment his wife had discovered the second wave of hers. He was no longer the spry young man in his sexual prime, and Marjorie’s recent demands, though mostly fun, were beginning to tire him out.