She stood there in the bathroom thinking about him, her eyes on her nipples, the two dark spikes sticking out from the ends of her tits and still stiff from the climax she'd had downstairs. She touched one nipple now, then pulled her finger away. No, don't start again, you stupid little girl.

She thought about Neal. How nice marriage would be without sex. Then she touched one of her tits again and pulled at the nipple with her fingers. Yes, her nipples were really long. She remembered a girl in high school who made fun of her because of her long nipples. The stupid little bitch. She never really liked anyone in high school.

I don't want it again, she thought. She didn't want it with her fingers and she didn't want it with Neal. Still feeling sorry for herself, she sat down on the toilet and started pissing. She pushed down on the top of her cunt mound as she pissed. It always felt good when she did that. Just a little massage of her cuntbush couldn't be so terrible.

Then the piss was finished and she stopped. She wiped her pussy and flushed the toilet, and then she walked out of the bathroom wondering when Neal would get home and what kind of mood he'd be in.

What Neal was in the mood for that evening was fucking. As soon as the evening news was finished, he had her on the sofa.

"You won't admit you like it," he said. "What a crazy bitch you are."

But she hated it. And at that moment she hated him too. She felt as though he was crushing her. He had her on her back, his chest pressing against the underside of her right thigh and the back of her knee. He had the knee pressed back all the way, almost touching her chin.

He pounded her cunt, driving his cock in and out. She didn't want to look at his face. She kept her head turned to the side so she wouldn't see his face as he fucked her. She hated looking at him when he fucked her.