It was a pretty bad stub. The toe bent sideways against the floorboard and a howl of pain jolted his body. He grit his teeth into a perverted smile. She didn’t notice. With her hands over her head, she danced, eyes closed. Sand shuffled on the dancefloor as she gyrated her hips.

Their bare feet slid over the smooth deck. Music played as the performer strummed his guitar. Lights flickered in the tropical night sky. She stepped towards him, her eyes open and hungry.

She had at least fifteen years on him, perhaps twenty, but neither cared. He wanted to get laid, and so did she. She slid her leg between his and started grinding against his twentysomething-year-old body. He glanced down at his toe and smiled. It wasn’t broken. He grabbed her hips and spun her around, then pressed against her backside.

Sweat shimmered along her sunburnt neck; the air smelled of aloe. She took his hands and deftly dragged them over the front of her chest to her wide hips. He felt the bulge in his pants. So did she. 

Before long, she twisted around and stopped short of kissing him. She brought her face close to his and breathed him in. The whisper could barely be heard over the music. Her hotel wasn’t far, just a short walk along the beach. He was game.

She ordered two final shots and closed the tab using her corporate card. He high-fived some platoon buddies, and they cheered. One bet him that he wouldn’t make it to tomorrow morning’s PT. He took the bet, then left with her. They walked along the beach side-by-side, holding their sandals in their fingertips.

Inside her room, they tripped over a rolling bag as they stripped. He hit a side table, and the stand rocked. A folder full of retreat jargon fell to the floor. So did her boarding pass for her morning flight. He ripped off her bra, and the soft flesh of her maternal body pressed against his muscular frame. They laid in the bed, and his abs clenched as he stretched to shut off the lights. She stopped him; she wanted them on.

She rode him. Clawed her nails over his chest. The diamond sparkled, and she turned over her wedding ring.

She kept control, telling him what she wanted, where and when. He complied with vigorous energy. His endless reserves tired her, but she continued, intoxicated by the wild youth inside of her. She moaned.

He hopped from the bed to flip her over and stubbed his toe. He yelped as a security guard knocked on the door. She deliberately opened the door with tousled hair and ruddy cheeks; she promised to keep it down. The guard looked over her shoulder at the young man who could’ve been her son and gave a weird look as she shut the door. The pair laughed as they returned to their fun. They played until dawn.

Each clung to the other in the gray morning light. Plagued by vivid fears of old age and a life at an end, she pulled him closer. And he, unsure of why it was so important, grasped that it was. He smelled her hair as he thought about returning to base and preparing for war.