All last week I was thinking about how badly I owed my husband a blow job. Not only did he put up with me, he hauled his ass out to the fair to sling more than his fair share of pizza and corndogs.
By Sunday night, I was ready for some hot tuna loving. But first I needed a shower. I had grease and dirt in places you don't want to think about at parties.
So I went upstairs to take a shower and get the engines revving, if you know what I mean. But I think I revved a little too much, because the next thing I knew my husband's alarm was going off. Damn, it was six in the morning.
"Aww, man! We were gonna fuck!"
Next time, I'll put the engine in idle until he catches up.
And now I owe him not one, but two.
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