Copyright 2012 Pammy Perkins
Although she and John had only just begun to build their life together, Natalie was beginning to feel like they’d built her a prison. The days became monotonous and seemed to blend together in their likeness: he’d rouse awake at the crack of dawn—more often than not turning down her offer to suck him awake—get dressed, and head out the door by six sharp, leaving Natalie alone, awake, and horny in bed until she could finally muster the motivation to get out of bed and begin her house work and errands until his return long after dark.
The two had been married for three months, and their sex life had gone from fucking in every room of their house in every position they could manage at least twice a day, to a maximum of two times a week in their bedroom—if she was lucky. Natalie was becoming numb from doing laundry, dishes, shopping, and cooking with no hard-earned wild sex to look forward to from her husband at the end of the day. Sure, he provided enough money for both of them to live on comfortably, but he just didn’t seem interested in sex after working all day. During the week, all he’d wanted to do is go to work, hit the gym, eat his dinner and sleep.