The man steps lightly and deliberately through the hallway, taking care to avoid the known creaky spots, coming around the corner to see sunlight streaking through the front window, casting long shadows of tree branches across the hardwoods and onto the loveseat, terminating upon her inviting body. The woman beckons him with a delicate swat of her eyelashes and the corners of her mouth pricked upwards, and without further consideration his hands fumble at his belt as he crosses into the light. Their eager hands and lips and tongues meet, quiet yet fierce, yearning and searching and silently desperate. He pulls her pants off with a flourish, watching in horror as her phone flies from the pocket and clatters to the floor, and their breath catches in their throats, hoping and praying and begging for a pardon from what always happens next.
"Mommy, daddy, where are you?"
Nap time is over.
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