And I mean stupid and dirty.
It's a text from Stacey; he wants to die.
He wants me to drive 45 minutes to be with him and I tell him that I don't want to.
My husband shifts uncomfortably next to me, pulling the cover off of me and moaning incoherently.
"You're a horrible person," he texts me. Possibly.
"You don't understand what I've been through and you don't care," he attempts to appeal to me, a horrible person. Definitely.
"You're a filthy, cum guzzling whore who like sex rougher than normal with a knack for shoving dildos up a man's ass," he seems more like he's teasing me now. But it's still true.
My husband throws the cover off of himself and I delete my conversation and turn my phone off.
He shuffles toward the bathroom naked.
I position myself back in bed as I stare at his pale ass glimmering in the light of the bathroom.
He has no idea how nice his ass is and how many things I want to do to it.
I'd catch him off guard like he is now; I'd shove my fake cock so far up his tight little ass that he wouldn't know what to do but squirm.
He'd fight it, but I'd grab the back of his neck and push his face down against the marble countertop. As he tried to push me away, I'd go deeper; as he moaned in anguish, I'd go harder; just when he's really begging me to stop, I'd turn him around and suck his dick like a vacuum.
He'd cum all over my face and it would be the best orgasm of his life as I gently licked his cock clean.
And he'd beg me to do it every time we fucked.
If only he knew how to fuck me like I wanted to fuck him.
I guess I will see Stacey tonight after all.