Dave woke up one morning, not feeling much different. For a moment he panicked at the sight of sunlight hitting the sheets, but then he remembered it was a Sunday.
His wife, Sarah, was still sleeping next to him. He cuddled up to her, but she just kept snoring. Her thigh pressing against his morning wood, he was starting to feel frisky. It wasn't long before she was awake.
"Good morning." She yawned, smacking her lips before she continued. "You're horny again, aren't you. Wait until tonight." She turned away from him. He slid closer.
"Aww. But honey..." he tried, but faltered.
"You love my cock inside you, right?" He tried again.
"Yeees. Tonight." She grunted.
"But I'm hard now." He hissed, trying to sound seductive. "It makes no difference whether we do it now or tonight."
"I... that's true..." She hesitated, unable to contradict despite the fact she was certain a moment ago there were several things that made a difference. Somehow they didn't matter anymore. She didn't really care about being fresh and clean for sex anymore. It was dirty anyway. Neither did she mind his usually smelly morning breath, not to mention the smell that was coming from his crotch. Not even the creeping feeling that everybody she'd meet that day would know she had sex. Like they could smell it, or something. It was all fine, let them think whatever.
Feeling her resolve fade away, he crept closer against her, maneuvering his dick against the split between her butt-cheeks. He was thinking up more reasons, hoping she'd buckle. What did he say?
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