Shuddering in his shame and his secret voyeuristic arousal, Brad listened to the pair’s forbidden lovemaking, to the sound of his wife giving to some stranger that sweet relief which she had so tantalizingly denied her own husband for agonizing months. He heard the man grunt, heard Alyssa shiver and coo. The rhythm was slow and sensuous, hauntingly erotic. And yet…and yet the frustrated Brad could tell that Steve was trying to take his time, trying to enjoy himself and really make it last, trying to tease the raven-haired mistress of delights lying comfortably beneath his red-faced passions. The poor husband’s blood pounded with a priapic impotence, and he longed bitterly for the show-off bastard to hurry up and really give it to her, to pound her like she needed and truly make her feel it
