A Little Bit More Love

She hears the knock and tucks the drone behind the couch. He walks in still wearing his work shirt, eyes scanning the room like he already smells trouble. She hands the drone to him slow, holding the controller like a knife behind her back. He swallows. Needs something else. Footage. All of it. The screen flickers. Backyard pool. Her neighbors. The woman arches, dripping, the man buried between her thighs. He sees this. Clear shot. Legs spread wide on the sun-lounger. He presses play again. Can't help it. Breathing gets heavier. Sheena watches his knuckles whiten around the controller. Another clip. The fence bends. Clothes shoved aside. A belt clinks on the patio. Moans bleed through the cheap speakers. She steps closer. Her hand brushes his wrist. He’s hard already, and she knows it. Her husband works under him. That’s why he’s here. That’s why they shouldn’t be doing this. She doesn’t care. He pulls her in, half-standing, screen still playing behind them. They fuck on the arm of the couch, grainy moans filling the space between each slap. He grunts into her neck. She digs nails into his shoulders, teeth on his ear, whispering the neighbor’s wife’s cries back at him. They’re louder than the footage by the time they finish.