The morning routine was well-established: coffee brewing, news playing softly on the radio, and the shared bathroom space a dance of synchronized efficiency. This morning, however, a spark ignited unexpectedly. As they both prepped for their respective jobs, the husband’s gaze lingered on his wife, a sudden wave of desire washing over him. “I gotta have you,” he blurted out, the words hanging in the air.
Before she could fully register his intent, he had backed her against the cool, solid surface of the bathroom door. A primal urgency took over as he swiftly lowered her undergarments and began to ravish her with unexpected fervor.
He was completely caught up in the moment, convinced he was reaching new heights of passion. Her reaction seemed to confirm it – she screamed with surprising intensity and wiggled against him more than ever before. Emboldened, he finished with a satisfied grin, already reaching for his discarded clothes.
As he buttoned his shirt, he noticed his wife was still pressed against the door, an odd, contorted posture about her. “Wow, honey,” he said, a touch of breathless pride in his voice. “That was the best! You’ve never moved like that before. Are you alright? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”
Her voice, strained and slightly muffled, finally broke the silence. “No, no,” she gasped, “I’ll be okay… just give me a minute. I think I’ll be alright once I can get the doorknob out of my bum.”
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