Bill told her it was just an urban myth. She responded that it didn’t matter if it was seven seconds, seven minutes, or seventy minutes; men still s...pent a lot of time thinking about sex. One thing led to another, and eventually he bet that he could go twenty-four hours without thinking about sex. Sally said "You’re on," but then seemingly dropped the topic. Now Sally sat on the edge of the bed in nothing but a loosely tied terry robe and those lacy lilac bikinis. Bill was sure that there was. Marissa stood at the kitchen island, staring out the window at the rain. It was just a drizzle at the moment, and she watched how the droplets worked their way down the copper rain chain that lead from the gutter to the dry rock bed below. Her thoughts were the same as they had been for the last three days. She could do nothing but relive Tuesday's indiscretions with Benji. Her cheeks flushed at the memory of his fingers driving her to that delicious, unbelievable orgasm. Her blush deepened. Looking the way she did I would follow her anywhere so I jumped up and followed. Once we were in the bedroom, she turned me around and pushed me onto the bed on my back. I just flopped down. There were times when my wife would take charge in the bedroom but never quite like this. She would get on top and grind herself to a finish from time to time but never take charge of the whole event. I was not going to stop her though. This was a side of my wife I had never seen before, but I was hoping. With a big sloppy handfull of lube on both of us it became easier. I wiggled, twisted and crammed. We both laughed a lot at this absurd but pleasurable work. Daves erection has a fairly good curve to it. So about 2/3rds of the way in we hit the cervix. I leaned back, hands on his knees and grunted a bit in good pain when I dropped my weight completely on his cock. I now had him balls deep where I wanted but I was unable to do much beyond grind a little. I told him of my dilemma. Dave.