Nadia's pick

Nadia turns on a movie, something she has seen before, on your old vacuum tube TV. Once you get some cash flow, you need to replace it. It's embarrassing. Still, it works, and soon a man and woman are shown, walking along a path next to a river, snow drizzling down from somewhere off-screen. They chat and sit on a bench, holding hands and laughing. Their acted love is off-putting, especially after the conversation you so recently had with Nadia.

The actors leave the river, and the scene shifts to a studio apartment, some stories up, where they drink beside a roaring fireplace. The river can be seen in the background, and the cityscape is coated with snow.

"Reminds me of Saint Petersburg," you murmur.

"Hm?" Nadia asks, looking at you.

"It reminds me of Russia when we would spend days locked inside your studio apartment while it snowed."

You smile at your wife, and you notice a faint blush darken her cheeks.

"I thought you had forgotten about then," she said in her thick accent, her eyes downcast.

"Never," you say, and take her hand in yours. She allows it, and you rub your thumb against the back of her palm, enjoying the feel of her silken skin.

You consider pushing it, but you decide not to tonight. A lot had happened. You know the app will prevent you from ruining it too badly, but you have to think of yourself too. After the day you had, you can hardly handle anything more.

Soon the credits are scrolling across the screen, and Nadia rises from the old couch. A faint smile draws across her face.

"Thank you, Lev. I enjoyed that."

"Me too."

"I think I'll go to sleep now. It's getting late."

"Sure, dear. If that's what you want."

Footsteps echo throughout the living room as she walks upstairs, until they pause, and you hear a soft voice drifting from above: "Won't my husband join me?"

"I'd love to."

You almost leap from the couch and follow Nadia upstairs. She enters your bedroom, the light still on from earlier, and turns to face you.

"I do not think I am ready for anything... physical. We still have to rebuild that. But..." She grabs the hem of her nightgown and pulls it overhead, revealing her naked body. The nightgown hits the floor with a soft thud. "That doesn't mean a husband shouldn't look at his wife."

You can't help but lick your lips at the sight before you. Nadia is beautiful. She always has been. Her soft curves invite you in, surprisingly tight for her age and motherhood. Her eyes watch you, waiting, calculating. Your eyes watch her, eager, hungry. You observe every facet of her body, the breadth of her hips, the firmness of her thighs, the plushness of her breasts. Her breasts. For the first time in so long, you can see them - really see them. They're thick and supple, similar in size to Karina's, but adorned with blue veins and thick nipples, byproducts of raising your daughter. Like a fine wine, they have only gotten better over the years. Your eyes linger, but eventually, they drift lower, past her smooth stomach, to her vagina. As your eyes meet it, her legs part, allowing you a minor view. Her lips are plump, just as you remember them, and shield her clitoris and inner labia from sight.

Her legs move, and you look up to see her walking toward you. Her eyes dart to your groin, tented outwards with your eager erection, before darting back to meet yours.

"I need a shower," she says, and leaves the room, and you within it. Moments later, you hear the shower in the hall bathroom. You sit in silence for a few moments, savoring the memories, and then remember to check your phone. You pull it out and nearly jump in excitement at what you see.

Nadia: Affection: -20 (+14). Love: -14 (+14). Lust: 4 (+4).

It is still negative, but it is so much higher than before. Had your evening together really impacted her so much? Of course, you realize - you have the app on your side. It practically forces her to love you. You appreciate it, though; Nadia, your dear wife, naked in front of you. You sit on your bed, enjoying and savoring the vision still in your mind, until you hear her re-enter the bedroom.

You look up, seeing her wrapped in an old bathrobe. She points towards the door.

"Your turn."

You rise from the bed and walk towards the door, but she raises a hand to stop you.

"I said, your turn."

Oh. You give her a knowing nod, and slowly pull your shirt overheard to reveal your chiseled figure. You kick your shoes and socks off. Your jeans hit the floor, followed by your underwear. You stand before her, naked, your cock still raging in response to all of the stimuli of the evening.

"Oh, I see someone is still happy to see me," she murmurs.

"Always," you joke, and then head to the bathroom.