Windows are thrown wide, desperate to catch a breeze. I'm bathed in moonlight and sultry humidity. Overheated, I lie naked craving cool comfort and... something else. Sleep is elusive - and unwanted.

He's here. Deep in the shadows. Out of reach. A calm, controlled sigh rising over the zip and rustle of unnecessary clothes.

Eyes closed.

The mattress beneath sways gently. I hear skin slide softly over the crisp, cotton sheet. A sandalwood cologne fills the air. My whole skin tingles with anticipation, pulse quickening.

So close, longing to feel...

I hear his smile. Playful mischief, perhaps?

Closer still, but not touching, his warmth radiates over my rising breasts. I'm suddenly aware of my deepening breathing, of yearning...

The whisper of a long, deep exhale and cooling breath cascade over my breasts.

Aureolae respond, prickling with fiery heat, rising toward temptation. Hotwired, yet untouched, my precious pearl joins their sensual cry, tingling and growing as if reaching for the elusive contact it craves. My whole body adds to the chorus with a fizzing flush of goosebumps. Unbidden, thighs part in invitation.

The bed ripples and undulates. The sandalwood aroma fades. Anguish and frustration fill my mind, and then...

The murmur of another cool exhale over my sex, below.

My clit engorges, throbbing harshly in response. Tingling petals emerge and flourish in greeting, nectar flowing in anticipation. So hungry... So sensitive... I hear myself panting.

Still closer...

I feel his slow breathing across the carnal heat between my thighs, the sheets scrunched into my balled fists, my heart racing out of control, the thrill and danger of falling from the precipice of this sexual plateau...

His hot, wet tongue tip barely touches, and...

An explosive clitoral detonation rips through my soul! I freefall into the abyss, vaguely aware of a scream. Breathless and gulping for air, I pitch and roll, riding surging waves of sweet, sweet suffering.

Slowly, gradually, self-awareness returns wrapped in a wonderful, incandescent afterglow. I gaze at him as he stands at the foot of the bed, dark skin glistening, a tall, ghostly shadow figure silhouetted by moonlight. He smiles confidently, eyes hungry with lust. His beautiful desire sways, proud and erect, full of promise as he climbs languidly back onto the bed.

I turn my head to my husband, sitting in the shadows. His appreciation of my performance has already spilled over his hand and onto the floor. This is a difficult moment. His ambition and acceptance only last while aroused and now he's finished, his mind will fill with acid jealousy and crushing humiliation. I must take control.

I lock eyes with his.

"Remember, darling, this is what you said you wanted: You're going to watch him defile and breed me."

A profoundly deep, echoing rumble - felt, rather than heard - warns of the storm closing in.