I like looking like a Jersey Mob Wife

You make chasing a nut hard to do. I expected this to be a short ride, considering the fact that I gave you head in the car on the way home from the restaurant, but I see now that I have my work cut out for me.
It was our eleventh anniversary and we decided to celebrate it in the usual fashion. Dinner at the best steak house in town. The one with celebrity chef that you love so much. I knew what you would order: a filet, medium, with the roasted corn that you love so much. For me, a salad would have to do. After all, I have given birth to three healthy eight pound babies and I’m determined to stay a size 4. My ass can’t reflect the fact that I have a brood, so if not eating is the consequence, then so be it. You topped it off with jewelry, of course. Another piece of Cartier to add to the collection. It may not be original after all of these years, but I like looking like a Jersey mob wife at the local grocer. If I didn’t live with four boys I would probably go naked more often. All of our male neighbors, and some of the female ones too, plan their time for yard work around the time that I will be in our pool. Hoping for a glimpse I guess. Sometimes I give them a treat by walking to the mailbox in one of my tiniest numbers. Little do they know, on the days that I see them gawking the most, I fuck my husband the hardest.
I know my husband likes to fuck me hard. He always has. There’s no tender love-making going on in our bedroom.