Tonight is our third anniversary. I feel honoured as your husband to still be loved by you. We’ve gone through much together, you and I. And here we are. You look stunning in your sparkly silver dress like a 1920s flapper. It hangs in all the right places and wraps tightly in others accentuating your perfect breasts and ass I love so much. Your taut legs are raised by four inch stiletto heels. The hotel bar is quiet and dimly lit, a chandelier glowing in the centre of the room and plush sofas empty for our use. Your hips sway to piano music as you guide me to a table, and in the end we slide into a corner, red leather booth. We can be naughty if we want to. Let's pretend we've met for the first time. We're like teenagers in the corner kissing drunkenly. We've not even had a glass of wine. My mouth travels down your neck which I suction cup with my lips. Tonight, I want to brand you. Leave a mark on your moist skin. Your moans are drowned out by piano music trilling back and forth. The player eyes us periodically catching glimpses of our love. The crook of your neck tastes smooth and sweet like candy. You squirm beneath my grip. My tongue flickers passionately against your own. Several minutes later, a sexy bartender comes to take our order.