Carol was gasping and moaning behind our bedroom door. I sighed and bowed my head, then pushed it open to find Bob, my best friend, plowing her from behind.
They froze like deer caught in headlights. Carol exclaimed, "Alan! You weren't supposed to be home until tomorrow!"
I nodded and hung my suit bag in the closet. "Yeah, we got done early. Thought I'd surprise you."
I loved that beautiful, slightly crooked grin. "Aw, babe! I missed you!"
Bob waved. "Hey, man, want to join us? Give her a nice spitroasting?"
"Nah, I'm beat from the trip. You two have fun."
I left our bedroom to the renewed sounds of their passion, grabbed a beer, and sat on the couch, idly flipping through the channels. Hopefully they'd be done soon, and I could be alone with my wife.
A few minutes later, the voices and the squeaking of the bedframe crescendoed and then ceased. Not long after that, Bob came down the stairs. "Gonna get going. We still on for racketball on Saturday?"
"Of course! I'll see you then."
I locked the door behind him as Carol descended the stairs in a loosely-tied silk dressing gown, hinting at the treasures beneath. She purred, "Hey, handsome. Want to come to bed and reclaim your slut?"
A shake of my head was clearly not what she'd been expecting. "No, not tonight. I just..."
Her brow wrinkled with concern as she sat next to me. "Babe, what's wrong?"
My hand gestured vaguely. "I'm just kind of tired of all of this."
Carol's shoulders sagged as she sighed, "Oh, thank god."