We’re in our mid 20s, for some basics. Your normal “could lose 10 pounds” kinda people.
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My husband came home from work and was greeted with a kiss and a to-do list. Take out the trash, change the furnace filter, just your run-of-the-mill household tasks. While he took care of them, I slipped into the bathroom.
One grey (slightly-too-small) pencil skirt sans panties, black bra, half-buttoned blue shirt, and black heels later…
The grate for the furnace filter almost hit my husband on the head when he looked up and saw me standing in the doorway, hip cocked and my chest barely contained in the shirt.
Before I could blink, he had me in his lap, skirt hiked up so far I was afraid the seam would rip. Hands wandered all over my body – squeezing a tit, slapping my ass so hard it made my eyes water. After a few minutes of me practically begging for him to touch my pussy (which he ignored – further increasing the ache for his touch), he flipped us so I was on my back on the bed and he was getting out of his clothes as fast as possible.