My wife giggled, sixty-five years old and she was giggling like a teenager. This was going to bad.Friday arrived, and so did Tommy; Margret had bought...another new dress, buttoned up the front, its neckline was low and her large breasts were very much on display. Nearly fifty years of marriage and she is dressed for a date with another man.We all sat on the sofa, but I may as well not been there. Tommy couldn’t keep his eyes off Margret’s cleavage, at first she just preened herself at the. I listened to her breathing become more regular, and felt her heartbeat slow to something approaching normal. It was about fifteen minutes before she said the first words since we’d left the deli.“Seven years,” she sighed.“Seven years?” I asked.“Of thinking about it; of wondering what it was like; of holding myself back.”She’d just confirmed what I’d already known. I kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her lips. In the dim light I could see the corners of her lips turn up in a smile. I. More

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