I was looking forward to church without my wife this morning, spending some time with my friend without oversight, but when I sit down in the pew my friend's sitting in the pew in front of me with another guy, looking right with him, right and ready to fuck as soon as the chance presents itself.

I've never seen her turned on before. As close as we are, as much as I like being with her and watching her, we don't have that kind of physical chemistry and my stories about her being turned on are either conjecture or based on what she's told me.

I sit there, by myself in the pew, the pew where I ate and fucked my former girlfriend, thrilled to see my friend turned on, oddly jealous of her time, since I see her less than once a week, and I can picture her, as turned on as she is, ignoring the rest of the world to be with this tan, buff, square-jawed, glinty-eyed, dark-haired, kind of short but an inch or two taller than her guy. But jealousy is wrong so I get over it and just watch, watch her arch her back more than usual her breasts jutting beneath her black shirt, her knees slightly spread and pushing against his leg, leaning in to say something conspiratal, looking away again, flushed red with desire, lips slightly parted, eyes big and round behind her little glasses, not quite focused on what she's doing, standing before she goes down to teach Sunday School and bending full at the waist to look in her bag, her ass in the air, the guy watching her the whole time with a knowing little smile, like not this week, but some week, some week when she doesn't have her kids with her, some hot Summer, Sunday after church she'll follow him home, follow him to his bedroom with the crisp white walls, to his bed with the crisp white sheets, to get completely naked and fuck him and be fucked by him all afternoon long, her face red, her eyes round, her mouth wide open screaming every now and then with raucous pleasure.

I wish I had that kind of confidence. I wish I could be there to watch.