And to top it off, he'd gone to pot. His beautifully sculpted, marble-smooth young body had grown bloated, paunchy, and bristly haired. Kathy hated to even look at him anymore.

She drove her fingers up her pussy to the hilt, twisting them, grinding her knuckles against her clit. A rush of sensation whirled through her loins and her pussy contracted. Her toes clutched with each orgasmic wave and she moaned, writhing naked on the bed, her fingers grinding between her thighs. She arched up, thrusting her tits high, her nipples hard and ready to split.

"Ohhhh yessssss!" she moaned. "I love the feeeeeeling!"

She fucked herself until every twinge of orgasmic sensation had subsided, then fell back and pulled her fingers out of her cunt and licked Otto's cum off them. She managed to cover herself with a sheet only seconds before he came tromping back into the bedroom, a towel rapped around his sagging paunch. If he had caught her masturbating, ho would have ridiculed her and made her feel like shit.

"You still in bed!" he said. "Getting lazy in your old age? I'm late for the office. Get me my breakfast."

Without a word, Kathy slipped out of bed, slipped into her bathrobe, and went to the kitchen to make Otto his breakfast. Sausages and bacon, a half-dozen eggs, toast with tons of butter and jelly, and coffee with lots of cream – this was Otto's daily breakfast. He still ate as if he were a teenage athlete – as if he were a half-dozen teenage athletes.

Kathy had timidly mentioned once that the diet he insisted on eating might be bad for his heart, but Otto had shut her up fast. As long as he was earning their bread and butter, he'd eat what he damned well pleased. Besides, he was still as fit and strong as he'd been in high school, he claimed, a few pounds heavier maybe, but just as strong and fit. Kathy wondered if he'd looked in the mirror lately.