As he gunned the Harley and crossed the border, the irony hit him. The last time he’d taken this route was when he and his wife went on their 20^th anniversary vacation.

Now he was heading to a gun shop where he could buy a weapon with no waiting period. When he passed the water park, he remembered how they’d gone on the rides, over and over, and still had the energy to ride each other all night long. He could remember it vividly….

“Oh, oh,” she gasped, tiny beads of sweat shimmering all over her body.

He felt his cock spurt deep inside her, and she stayed on top of him, her wet pussy hair matted against his own thick, damp bush. Their mingled juices were hot and moist in his lap when, dizzy and almost ready to fall over, she eased herself off his softening cock and fell onto the bed next to him, eyeing his dick as it flopped back on his belly. She wickedly lapped at the ripe wetness on his shaft, her eyes gleaming.

Then she began to suck him savagely, passionately, stripping all the juices from his prick, making it tingle. Then she deep-throated him.

“I want it all over again, Daddy,” she said, impaling her face on his fat, fully hard prong and staring at him like some porn chick from a magazine.

He loved it when she did that, sucking on his cock while staring at him, letting him know she loved it, she needed it, she wanted it.

“I’m one hungry bitch tonight,” she said in a low, husky voice.

He loved it when she talked dirty, too.

“Back in the saddle, Daddy,” she said. “Only I’m sittin’ on that saddle horn, ‘cause it’s oh so big, and it fits me oh so well!”

Beads of sweat began to trickle down his face, and his forehead felt feverish. She was doing all the work, but just watching was making his heart beat harder. He was 40 when they married, and she was 20. Some of his pals joked that she’d give him a heart attack. He just grinned as he watched her go, bouncing in his lap. Then she clenched her pussy muscles. He felt his pulse throb in his cock, which was about to burst with another load.

“I’m gonna suck your cock with my cunt,” she said. “Yeah, I can suck all the come out of it… . ”

He couldn’t help himself. He let loose inside her. He shot off again and again, like gunshots.

“Oooh,” she cried, wavering a little as she sat on his lap. “Oooh, yeah,” she said, feeling the next hot load fill her.

“Ahhh,” she said, reaching down and frigging her clit with her finger, looking like a wounded rider about to fall from her horse.

She rocked slowly back and forth, digging her finger into herself, getting so wild with it that he could feel her fingernail poke into the base of his cock. Somehow he managed to stay thick and hard inside her. She clenched her pussy muscles again, even as her mouth went slack and her eyes fluttered shut.

“Ahhh,” she gasped. She collapsed forward, her hot, sweaty body on his, and their tongues fought an exhausting battle before they whispered their “I love yous,” their moans, and finally, as she drifted to sleep, her soft sigh of, “You’re the best, Daddy. Never was anyone like you…. ”

Yeah? Then why did she have to fuck Marty? he thought.

John looked at the row of rifles on the back wall. For a moment, he imagined how easily he could prop one of them up with the business end in his mouth and end his life with one pull of the trigger. Maybe do it while she was watching, helpless to stop it, and let her be haunted by the sight for the rest of her unfaithful fucking life. But instead, he got himself a luger — something he could whip out and point in an instant. No warning. Then how long would it take for him to turn the gun on himself, as lovers often do? Murder-suicide.

Soon John was heading back across the border, back past the water park where he and his wife had made passionate love 20 years ago. That long? Now he could only imagine what it had been like, when he was overseas on that three-month business trip and his friend Marty had been busy keeping his oversexed young wife happy. Her excuse was that he should never have taken that business trip and she was so worried about her 40^th birthday—and about “the change” — that she had to have an affair to see if she was “still attractive.”

The Harley sought the road home as John burned with thoughts of his wife fucking Marty. He thought about killing Marty, but Marty’s a guy. Guys will fuck anything. Even another man’s wife. The fault was with the woman who didn’t say no.

“Let’s try, Daddy… . Let’s not spoil things,” she said.

Spoil things? Spoil what had already been spoiled? For a month, they’d slept in separate rooms. But tonight? Saturday night? She said she’d come to the bedroom and do anything he wanted her to do.

Right. Like hold still. Don’t move. John pushed the Harley to the pavement just outside the garage. He wasn’t expecting to use it again. He patted the gun tucked in his belt. She was in the kitchen preparing her solitary meal. He wasn’t hungry. Just the thought of food nauseated him. He went up to the bedroom and slipped the gun into the nightstand. He lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The question was no longer if, but when. Around midnight, he heard a knock on the door. She let herself in. She was wearing white lingerie. He thought black might be more appropriate. Had she dressed up like this for Marty? But the sight of her stirred familiar feelings in him, despite his anger.

She stepped forward. She moved softly onto the bed, came up on all fours, made for the zipper of his pants. She freed his cock and began sucking it, looking up at him. Oh, but she was good. It had been so many months without her. Conflicting emotions of longing, lust and rage fought inside him. Kill himself? Kill her and then himself? She surrendered her mouth to him, and he felt himself coming to life, coming back from the dead. His cock grew hard almost instantly, and he didn’t want her to stop. It was over. Couldn’t he put it all in the past?

“Oh, Daddy,” she moaned. “You know I’ve wanted to do this for so long. Oh, I can’t live without you.”

“No, you can’t,” he croaked.

She was stuffing her face with his cock like it was penitence. Her lips parted wide so wide there were almost tears in her eyes. She uttered strangled little moans. She bowed her head; it bobbed up and down in his lap, like some kind of target. He imagined the trajectory; her body slumping on top of him, blood spattering everywhere. He heard more strangled moans, but they were coming from his own throat.“I can’t live like this,” he said softly.

His hand reached for the nightstand, but missed. He held her head in his hands, and she kept going up and down urgently. Then she began to kiss his hands, to suck on each finger, to suck passionately.

Then she began to suck his cock again, till she pulled back and said, “I’ve got to have you inside me. Please, please say you forgive me?”

He said nothing, but they moved in the dimly lit bedroom. She got flat on her back and spread her thighs, her legs up high, her arms out to the sides, her big boobs heaving as he began to fuck her. It was warm and wet inside her. She wanted him all right.

“Oh, Daddy, I could come right this minute!” she cried.

She thrashed her head from side to side. A moving target. “Shoot it into me!”

His hips moved, but it was as if they were on auto pilot. Something inside him was going numb. His cock was thick and hard, but he could barely feel it. He had to look down to check that he was still fucking her. A voice inside of him, flat and hollow, said, “Can’t live like this… . ”

Now his left arm moved in the misty twilight of the bedroom. Their bodies made shadows in the light seeping through the window shades and peeping in from under the door. He saw her eyes close. He kept fucking her as he leaned forward, and his left hand moved toward the drawer, and the drawer opened. The gun glistened.She moaned and kicked up her legs and pulled on the back of his neck, drawing him toward her tits. He nibbled her nipples, and she groaned. He was fucking her so hard the air was thick with the wet sounds of it, a slapping noise that was matched by her frenzied gasps. John felt take rage take over as his hips pumped back and forth. He felt like he was going to slam his dick right through her flesh and into the mattress. All she did was moan even louder. She loved it. John felt her legs kick higher, and he took them in his arms, spreading them so wide they could almost break. His cock soared into her pussy. As his eyes strained in the dim light of the bedroom, he could just about make out her mouth, soft and gasping, and her eyes, shut tight with deathly serenity. He could also make out the nightstand, but the gun in the drawer seemed miles away. As she gasped, he could almost hear himself gasping, too, a harsh sound in his throat, a kind of death rattle. His thoughts bubbled over as an electric charge coursed through his body. Words scorched his brain in the midst of his gigantic climax, and they were shooting through his mind like bullets.

Fuck. Kill. Love. Fuck. Love.

There was no future, was there? No, but there was now. Wasn’t this one of the best fucks they ever had? In a moment he could grab the gun, fire one shot into her, and one into himself. Instead, he held her tighter.

“Oh Daddy, I’m coming! Oh, fuck me. Stay in me. Oh, I feel it, I feel it!”

He emptied his balls into her, loads of come that flowed like lava. There was a growling noise in his gullet, a flash of mindless pleasure electrifying his body, and his eyes went wide. Like a gunshot, the last hot blast of come pumped deep into her. He sighed, held very still for a moment, and then slowly sank back onto the bed. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, and then reached across him toward the nightstand. She turned on the lamp. He was staring at the ceiling, too, with glassy, immobile eyes.

He wasn’t breathing, but his lips, which had formed the words “I can’t live without you” just moments before, were now motionless, curled in a small smile of peace.