Sometimes, when she felt mischievous, she would oil his cock in the morning before work while he was still drowsy. Warming the lotion in her hands first, so that it wouldn’t make him start, watching his nakedness like a predator, his member fat and sleepy, not quite erect but still big, all soft and languid, swollen from sleep and the warmth of the bedcovers. And she loved to feel him stiffen as she applied the salve, feel him growing and hardening like a stop-motion film of seedlings pushing hungrily through the spring soil, stiff unyielding saplings of green new wood. Hard and strong. Don’t stop, he murmurs now, waking, but she just smiles and heads to the shower, leaving him becalmed on the bed with it towering up like a flag pole. He can follow her if he wants to play.