After he was finished, I picked up the bottle, covered it with the napkin and rushed towards the bathroom as if I was to spill out the semen in mouth....There in the bathroom I carefully hid the bottle, gargled and washed my face before stepping out in the bedroom. He was still lying with closed eyes, his breathing not yet fully normal. I lay besides him cuddling against his naked frame. We were asleep in another half an hour. Reaching an orgasm worked as a sleeping pill for him. Rarely we had. Their own wants are irrelevant. She sounded like a slut. A slut lying in bed, telling the guy to hurry up and get it over with. To make her come. To do it hard and fast and get out of her bed so she can roll over and go to sleep and go out the next day and do it again. Not like a woman lying in bed with her husband of eleven years. But she needed this. An orgasm alone wasn’t going to fix this. “Are you okay?” She kept her eyes close, unable to discern anything of value from his sentence. She. More

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