In Shanna Germain’s “Red Light, Green Light,” Luce’s husband Danny gives her a gift she’s wanted since their first visit to Amsterdam: a window where she can display herself in the city’s infamous red light district. In this excerpt, Luce has selected the man that will pay her handsomely for her time, but what gets me most is the way Germain ensures that Danny never leaves Luce’s thoughts:
I ride him backward, his hand pulling me down, hips pumping up. I put my hand to my wet clit, think of Danny standing out there in the cold, watching my closed curtain, waiting while this other man fucks me. It nearly makes me come right there, just thinking of that. But I promised Danny I’d wait, that I’d wait for him. I have to take my hand away from my clit, concentrate on the man beneath me, on the way he moans and rocks under me, on the way his cock feels, longer inside me, as though he’s reaching farther up in me than Danny ever does.