The crowning irony was that he should be the one to pronounce the vows to her and Mark just a few weeks later over the alter in the community church. She had been unable to meet the pastor's eye, but he strangely seemed untouched by the horrible sin they had committed. It had been with relief that she had run from the church with Mark after the ceremony and taken the limousine to the airport and their wonderful, cathartic, memory-expunging honeymoon.

Now she was happy. Nothing must be allowed ever to mar the perfect life they were making for themselves, Mark's career in politics and hers in music, which she must soon resume. Of course, there would be babies, at least two. That was expected of a politician's wife, a solid family and home. And she supposed the children would come soon, since Mark had forbidden her to use birth control of any kind. He was hoping for a child within a year, too late for the election, but she might possibly be visibly pregnant during the campaign. All part of the campaign, though not just for show. Mark was as family oriented as she.

DesirЋe was determined that their home should be in reality just as fine as their future constituents would expect it to be.

So she prepared a candle-light dinner, his favorite meat dish and the wine he liked. She had had wine the first time that day they had first made love in the field beneath the elm, and then only occasionally on their honeymoon, so it wasn't becoming a habit, but tomorrow he would be leaving for the capital and she would not see him for almost a week. The thought depressed her, for she would not have his ardent and thrilling nightly lovemaking until he returned. Passing her hand over her belly, down to her plump pussy mound, she shivered. How could that hot, wet love-hole survive without his lovely penis.