Fucking Curse Words
WARNING: Extreme Bad Language
“Yeah…that’s it…take it! Take that bitch! Take that load you fucking bitch! I’m coming! Oh….fuck! You fucking slut!”
Not my words - obviously. No - these were the words of my overexcited husband as he came way too soon inside my body; despite an agreement to the contrary. No injected sperm on a weekday.
He rolled off me and let out a weak boned apology.
“Sorry babe…I couldn’t help myself..”
So while he stayed in our warm bed, I moved to our cold bathroom. Hand on my sex to prevent his mess ruining the carpet below my toes. Once there, an angry woman looked back at me from IKEA mirrors. Splashing tepid water on my tepid cunt - I fumed. Who the fuck was this man? This husband of mine. This porn lipped clueless idiot. His overexcited passion - under-exciting me. Take that you fucking bitch! I mean, read the fucking room! That wasn’t sex. I was just a receptacle on the end of his cock.
A human cumsock.
A plaything.
Predictably, he was half asleep when I reentered the bedroom. A lazy arm thrown my way in appreciation. I couldn’t sleep. Even after counting ‘fuck you’s’ instead of sheep.
The next day, life carried on. Halloween costumes for the children were made. Tax forms were filled in. But I stayed angry. I fumed as I drove. Drank my coffee with angry gulps. Seethed like an unexploded bomb. And that night in the bedroom - there was no bomb disposal team. Just me and my idiot husband. Showered and fresh. Naked and stiff. Toned abs wanting hot sex. His clueless dialogue continued as he got close and placed my hand on his erection.
“Ready for Round Two babe?”
BOOM! The dirty dishes in the sink and the lack of a bedroom story for the children triggered the Semtex inside me. I snatched my wrist away from his grip and grabbed his balls. Grabbed them hard. Angry hard - not erotic hard. My words escaping through gritted teeth.
“Just who the fuck do you think you are? Who do you think I am? I’m your fucking wife! Don’t you dare speak to me like that! Ever…..!!!!!”
