It needs to be a bit longer for me

Ryan Connor's been waiting too long for good dick. Her husband's shoot-and-quit routine leaves her wet and wired while he snores. Enough. She scrolls her contacts, hits a name she knows won't tap out at the first squeeze. She texts once, just a few words, then peels her clothes off like she's already started without him. When he shows, she doesn't small talk. She pulls him straight to the bedroom, locks the door, drops to her knees, and gets to work. Mouth full, eyes up, pace slow and steady like she wants him to feel every second. He stays hard, doesn't rush. After she swallows, he flips her on the bed, spreads her legs, and fucks her steady, deep, no finish line in sight. She moans loud on purpose. The contrast hits different. One guy's limp in five minutes; the other keeps pumping like he's got nowhere else to be. She grips the sheets, back arching, letting every thrust knock the old disappointment right out of her. Ryan knows she'll probably call him again tomorrow.