The moment after

There’s that moment when you realise you didn’t put the porn away, and can’t remember where you put it. The moment you realise you could have left it somewhere where your sexually repressed, anti-porn partner could find it.

And then there’s the moment when all is resolved.

After you’ve spent more than a few moments over the last few days racking your mind for where you might have left it. Whether it could be stumbled upon.

There have been moments when you’ve thought So what if She did find it? Yes She’d doubtless be shocked. Well a little shocked. She at least has a vague idea that you’ve got a high sex drive. She knows, or at least seems to assume you wank from time to time.

She must realise that you have some porn. Surely? Doubtless ignorance is slightly more blissful than being confronted by the reality of legs spread, pussies spread even further, pussies spread around swollen cocks, mouths spread around swollen cocks, arseholes spread around swollen cocks, swollen cocks showering cum over tits. You get the picture. Maybe she should too. It might do Her some good to know what turns Her Husband on, because fuck knows She seems blissfully ignorant of that too. At least it might be the catalyst for a conversation. Or maybe She’d say nothing.

But after those moments, there is another moment. A moment when there is an answer.

The porno DVD was safely in a desk drawer. One that She would have no need to open.

That moment is almost filled with disappointment.

And the moment after that, there is a question.

What if She had found it?

And the moment after that, you have slipped the DVD into the laptop, your trousers are round your ankles, your swollen cock is in your hand, you are imagining a pussy stretched around it, and does it really matter anyway?