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She switches on the lights and he closes the door behind her. She cannot stop thinking about that wonderful gala event. The electricity in the air, the whirlpool of colours, the sparkles. Wow. They had already been to many impressive charity galas, but this one at the Met was quite something.
Such contrast with the quietness of their flat. With the stillness of the Manhattan skyline in the night.
She could never grow tired of the serenity of this view. She simply loved it. Her husband had dimmed the lights down so she could better enjoy the scenery from inside. No reflection on the window wall.
*“Honey, are you coming?”*
He wraps his arms around her from behind. A bit of warmth and privacy after the excitation of the public evening.
He is holding her tight. Really tight. She can feel his breath in her hair.
He lowers his right hand between her legs, and grabs her there.
Her heart skips a beat.
His hand is firm. She can feel each of his fingers even through the fabric of her evening dress.