#95

OMG, you should’ve seen him that night—he was absolutely feral, all because of my sweaty, tight gym outfit. I’d just gotten back from a killer workout, my black leggings clinging to every curve of my legs, damp with sweat, and my sports bra hugging my chest so snug you could see the outline of everything. My hair was a messy ponytail, strands sticking to my neck, and I probably smelled like a mix of gym funk and that coconut body spray I use. I was beat—ready to collapse onto the couch, peel off those clothes, and pass out cold. Mood for anything else? Nonexistent. But he took one look at me, all flushed and glistening, and it was like a switch flipped. His eyes went dark, his jaw tightened, and he was on me like he’d been starving for it all day. No wasn’t even an option in his head.

I tried to brush him off, mumbling something about being too tired, but he was relentless—hands roaming, voice low and growly, telling me how fucking hot I looked all sweaty and worked out. Marriage is about compromises, right? So, I sighed, gave him a half-smirk, and figured I’d let him have his fun without me needing to rally for a full-on session. I flopped back on the bed, still in that gym gear, and told him to go for it. He didn’t waste a second—yanked my sports bra up just enough to free my tits, the fabric bunching under my armpits, and got to work. His hands were all over me, squeezing my boobs, thumbs brushing my nipples until they perked up despite my exhaustion. I just laid there, half-dozing, half-watching him lose his mind over me, his breathing all heavy and desperate. It didn’t take long—he was so wound up from the sight of me that he was practically shaking. I could feel the heat of him hovering over me, and then he let out this ragged groan, jerking himself until he came hard, unloading all over my tits. It was warm and sticky, splattering across my chest in messy streaks, dripping down the sides and pooling in the hollow of my collarbone. The gym outfit stayed on—sweaty leggings and all—and I just laughed, too tired to care, as he caught his breath and grinned like he’d won the lottery. Problem solved! He got what he needed, I didn’t have to move a muscle, and we both went to bed happy-ish. Compromise in action—guess that’s what keeps a marriage ticking, huh? @AppleLiu-76, @Nateiumfree