Carla had her legs wrapped around Michael's back. With any luck, he would come soon, and it would be over for at least another week. Michael liked to 'make love' two or three times a month on average. Afterwards, he would ask if she had come too. She always lied; it was easier that way. She had been a fool to kid herself things would change after they were married. If anything, things were even worse. She had tried everything she knew to get Michael to be more adventurous, but to no avail. His idea of an exciting sex life was five minutes in the missionary position. She wanted fucking hard, and she wanted fucking often. She wanted fucking in every position imaginable. She wanted cock in every hole. She wanted to be covered in cum. She wanted everything that Michael couldn't or wouldn't give her.

He rolled off her, and said, "Did you come?"

She had been so lost in her daydream, she had forgotten to fake an orgasm, but she said yes anyway. He disappeared into the bathroom. He always had to wash immediately afterwards. All that horrible dirty cum.