"Christ, you sleep too much," he said.

Ellen Wagner groaned. She was still half-asleep. Phil was already out of bed, dressing for his trip. She mumbled an answer.

She was aware the sheet was down at her hips, her body uncovered. She pulled at the sheet and covered herself. She didn't want him to start anything. He had a habit of wanting to fuck at the most unlikely times.

This morning, he was leaving to go on a business trip, but that wouldn't stop him. Cindy, their teenage daughter, had slept at a friend's house last night, and Phil might decide to take advantage of the fact that they were alone.

She was right. He suddenly sat down on the bed and leaned over her. He was still in his underwear. He stretched out and cuddled behind her. She could feel his cock pressing against her ass as he kissed her neck.

"You're not sleeping," he said.

It was clear he wanted to fuck. He fondled her tits. He stroked her ass. She was naked under the sheet. She wanted him to go away.

"Please, Phil."

"Come on, let's have a little."

"I'm not awake yet. It's too early."

"I won't see you for two weeks."

"You should have thought of that last night."

"Come on, Ellen. Last night you had that TV show you were watching. And the night before, it was something else. You don't like it at night and you don't like it in the morning. What the hell are you saving it for?"

He continued kissing her neck. He squeezed her tits under the sheet. Then his hand slid down over her belly and between her legs. She couldn't stop him.

They'd had long years of marriage and she'd never liked the fucking. Not ever. The problem went all the way back. She'd had a religious upbringing. A childhood filled with Sunday school and Bible reading and sermons against smoking and drinking and lust.