Made himself coffee, sat on the porch in the swing chair and opened the newspaper, unconsciously began playing with himself through his pants, went inside and sat at the kitchen table and unzipped his fly and started jerking himself off to get rid of the tension and stop thinking of them, but then thought, Don’t throw it away, save it for when she gets back when maybe he can get her to make love soon or even right away. Story about what he saw won’t hurt. Maybe even just coming right out and saying it’s made him hot, remembering and then telling it, so would she mind much if they did it now, as a favor or just because he’s almost never felt so rutty, and thinking of the couple isn’t all there is to it, for of course there’s her too, on the couch or floor or bed, though he’d love, even if he knows this is screwy and a silly thought and there’s no chance they’re going to do it this way, on a car seat in a remote grove with all those forest smells and sounds around, or in a different position than them if she can come up with one, for though he knows it’s being done in cars all the time he’s never till now known for sure how. Anyway, convincing her that it would be better now or an hour or two later than after her daughter comes home, if it
was August, when they’d have to be more inhibited and could only do it in bed, with their usual last sex before he left the next day, unless she’s just started her period and thinks she’s already too messy, as she’s sometimes said.