Michele was washing the dinner dishes and Bernard was sitting on the couch in the livingroom watching television.

He could feel his balls aching with desire, and he could feel his cock start to grow inside his trousers.

"Woman!" Bernard called out from his sitting position. He never took his eyes away from the TV set.

His jaw was set firmly and there was a burning in his dark brown eyes that looked about to emit a lasar beam.

"Yes, dear," Michele called back from the kitchen. There was a musical tone to her voice whenever she spoke.

Many thought that Michele was singing her way through life.

In spite of the fact that she was thirty-five years old, Michele had lost none of her youthful beauty and charm.

There were times when Bernard thought he was living with three teenage girls rather than only two.

"I need sex!" Bernard called out. He was using his command voice, and Michele could tell he was impatient.

"Just a second, sweetheart," Michele said. "I'm just finishing up."

The woman was washing the last of the dishes and only had to dry them and put them away for her domestic chore to be complete.

"I need sex now!" Bernard screamed at the top of his lungs.

His voice was deep – like the growl of a bear who had just been woken involuntarily from his winter's slumber.

Indeed, Bernard often sounded more like an animal that a human being when he was sexually aroused.

Michele knew that she would have to finish the dishes later.

When Bernard hollered like that it meant that he wasn't in the mood to take no for an answer. She quickly dried her hands on the apron tied around her waist and left the kitchen to be with, her man.

It was time for Michele to do her wifely duty.

She didn't mind. Bernard always made her come more times than she could count when he fucked her.