The doorbell’s chime sliced through the quiet house, a sudden, innocent sound that sent a jolt of pure lightning straight to Lenora’s cunt. Her hand, which had been idly tracing the neckline of her blouse, stilled. Two weeks. Two weeks of trying to forget the heavy, musky scent of a stranger in the dark, the rough feel of a calloused hand over her mouth, the terrifying, thrilling stretch of a cock so much bigger than Ed’s...

The popcorn smelled like fake butter and regret. Lenora slumped in the stiff theater seat, nursing the last dregs of her wine buzz and the fresh irritation of being right. On screen, some CGI robot punched another CGI robot. Crunch. Slam. Twenty minutes in, and from her left came the familiar, soft puff-puff-puff of Ed’s snoring. Unbelievable. She’d told him. She’d fucking told him this would happen. Another midnight movi...

I was intrigued but slightly embarrassed when my husband Ed told me he was writing stories about us. This is the first story I was able to read, and we decided to see what I thought and write my version of it. I love my husband and always have, and I know he loves me. When we were dating, we had our share of problems, like anyone else. We met in 1984 and dated until 1986, when we broke up. We got back together and eventua...