She was the same, but different.

It was the little things. How she traced her fingers over my skin. A mole on her breast as my lips brushed her nipple; the soft hair on her mound as I kissed her moist opening.

She gave breathy little sighs, and made tiny mewling sounds as she welcomed me into her wet heat. Fingernails gouged my back as her urgent cries signalled her climax.

A tap at the door; my wife.

“Did you enjoy that?”

Our languid, satisfied smiles were answer enough.

“I thought a change might do you both good!”

Twins, eh?