Labor Day

I looked at him, searching his face for some sign, some clue that he knew of my deception. Instead, I found only love and admiration. I remembered that one detail remained: to be sure we made love soon. If needed, I'd have to let my inner slut out to play. After what happened today, that wouldn't be too difficult. Someway, somehow, Mark was going to get royally fucked tonight - hopefully more than once. Maybe we could even stay over an extra day and see if we might pull some more magic out of this old dining room table.

"I love you, Mark" I whispered to him, tears gathering in my eyes. Never had I uttered those words with more sincerity.

We raised a toast of Irish whiskey (and ginger ale) to the dear departed Maggie, and I looked around at the other three wives. Every one of them stared intently at Bill, each wearing a curious smile and a noticeable flush in their cheeks, just like mine. At that moment, it occurred to me that each of them also had at least one child with a birthday around Labor Day - Lisa had two, including her newest. I also remembered that she drew the long straw last year.