Jan sat down at the kitchen table with a weary sigh and lit a nervous cigarette. She fluffed out her long blonde hair and drew strongly on the cigarette, inhaling deeply and blowing the smoke out through her luscious young mouth, which she felt was more refined for a woman than blowing smoke out through her nostrils. She had been brought up to behave like a lady, and she knew what was ladylike and what was not.

That rat. She couldn't forgive him. Although she had been brought up to be respectable, reserved and refined, and she knew better than to let her husband even guess that she might be capable of enjoying something like sex, she still nonetheless could not escape the torrential, merciless feeling of passion that arose in her loins whenever she encountered his heavy desire-hardened penis. And last night it had been worse than usual. And he had been worse than usual. She was beside herself. He had gotten her worked up to such a crazed pitch of desire with his foreplay, then disappointed her as usual with his early, too quickly arrived at, ejaculation.

Only this time she hadn't been able to calm herself down with a cold shower. After last night's big let-down she was still smoldering without let-up. She could still feel a slight twinge of ever present need within the sensitive walls of her vagina everytime she moved and scraped her thighs together.

As usual, he'd been terribly inconsiderate in bed, just satisfying himself and leaving her in the middle of her passionate escalation. He had fallen asleep almost immediately afterwards, while she'd lain beside him in passionate frenzy for almost two hours before she fitfully dozed off.

So it was little wonder that the twenty-one year old, curvaceous blonde wife had awakened in no less an erotic state than the sizzling fire that sleep had temporarily banked for the night.