My Husband Sucks

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Sarah sauntered into the kitchen about noon wearing nothing but her birthday suit.

“Charles?”

“Yes, honey?”

Her long red hair looked like she had been riding in her convertible with the top down. But no, she had been riding Joe reverse cowgirl and had a bad case of bed head. Sarah’s husband, more than twice her age, sat at the kitchen table perusing the WALL STREET JOURNAL.

“How is our stock doing, Charles?”

“Dell closed yesterday at 24.15, General Electric at 28.86, and Microsoft at 28.80. Would you like to read the paper? I’m finished with it.”

“No thanks, I hate that paper—no comics.”

“Don’t you think you should put some clothes on, Sarah? I think our neighbor Tom has been peeping in the windows.”

“But it’s Nude Day, Charles! Not to mention our anniversary. We were married one year ago, on Nude Day.”

“Yes, and I can’t believe you talked me into getting married naked.”

“Well why not? That’s how we came into the world, right? Naked! And it was Nude Day. Hey, you didn’t even have to pay for a wedding dress for me.”

Sarah smirked and put her arms around Charles from behind, pushing her breasts into his back as she groped his crotch. “Talk about micro-soft,” she snickered as she found his little limp penis through his pants.

“I wish you wouldn’t tease me about not being very well-endowed,” Charles whined. “Why did you marry me, anyway? It seems to me you like big . . . uh—”

“Charles! Shame on you!” Sarah blurted irritably. “You make it sound like all I think about is sex. Did you wash my car? I noticed some dust on it.”

“Look outside in the driveway.”

She did. The Pacific Blue 2008 Jaguar XKR convertible gleamed.

“Where is what’s his name, your new boy-toy?” Charles inquired and muttered under his breath, “And his big dick.”

“Still sleeping. He had a long night. Not to mention a busy morning. You slept through it all last evening. And his name is Joe.”

“I was so tired, Sarah. Besides, I don’t like to watch someone else fucking you.”

“But I like to watch you watch me getting fucked by someone else.”

“Yes, I know you do, honey. You seem rather obsessed with it.”

“Charles my dear, the poor boy is horny. You know how nineteen-year-old dudes are—cum machines. Weren’t you nineteen once?”

“That was a long time ago, Sarah. I asked you a question. Why did you marry me, anyway?”

“Charles, didn’t you make me breakfast? I mean, it is Nude Day, and our anniversary.”

“My dear Sarah, I make you breakfast every day. Besides, it’s brunch now. I didn’t want to prepare it until you woke. And please put something on! I can’t concentrate on cooking when you are parading around like that.”

“Why should I put something on? It’s not cold in here. And what with it being Nude Day, I plan on being naked as much as possible. Of course, if I go out I’ll get dressed. I don’t want to get arrested again. I still don’t understand why those cops kept frisking me when I wasn’t wearing any clothes. Couldn’t they see I didn’t have a weapon?”

“Not cold in here? You’re nipples are . . . uh . . .”

“Maybe I’m horny.”

“Are you?”

“Maybe I’ll give you some afternoon delight. But first I need to eat something. Then maybe I’ll let you eat me.”

“You will?”

“Maybe.”

Charles set a one pound tin of Beluga Imperial Malossol before his wife who had sat at the table. “This cost $1,4440, you know,” he complained.

“But Charles, caviar makes me horny.”

“It does?”

Sarah dipped into the tin enthusiastically with the fingers of her right hand. She slipped her left hand between her legs and soon began to moan softly.

“Are you masturbating, Sarah?”

“Do dogs bark, Charles? I told you caviar makes me horny.”

“But your . . . new friend . . . fucked you for hours last night.”

“I thought you slept through it all?”

“Okay, so I lied. I peeked. How could I possibly sleep the way you were yelling and carrying on?”

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