1Unreality
He's not as young as he used to be. With his knees and his back, there are times when sex is an obligation that has to be fulfilled. Not that she doesn't enjoy his body above hers, but there are times when she moves above him and rolls her hips and him that she is content to fake it when he comes before her.
She feigns surprised when he grabs her after a long day. Deep down, she knows that he doesn't believe her unreality, but there are enough mind-blowing sweat sessions that he lets it slide.
She pretends to be asleep when he gets up to piss for the fourth time that night in the same way he pretends he doesn't hear her when she runs to take a shit.
It's their unreality. It's not romantic or tender. It is as real as unreality can be. She has discovered that the fantasies she had before they coupled were missing the inevitable wet spot and shuffling of sheets.
Sex is gritty. Set is sweaty. Sex is a primal orchestra of flesh slapping, wetness pulling and breaths heaving.
And she rejoices in it.
She pretends she is surprised when she sees the ring box bulging from his coat pocket. She knew this was coming, has known it for months.
But as they wrestle for sheets in bed or fulfill their carnal obligations, she lies to him but never to herself.
She has never been this happy in her life.