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It makes you feel so weak and pitiful. I've got a date with a real man tonight, and I'm only going to let you touch me, to help me get ready, because it's for my boyfriend's enjoyment. For his pleasure alone.
I never let you fuck me anymore, not with your pathetic useless excuse for manhood. That little peepee of yours turns me off, and you're lucky I even keep you around.
The more you think about it, the more excited that little weewee gets, and you just have to touch it.
You're hoping that this time I'll bring my boyfriend home, so you might get a chance to see that big cock again, see it fuck me and stretch my pussy, hear me scream with pleasure that you can't give me.
But you're my husband, and it's your job to make sure I get satisfied. You'll do whatever you have to do to keep me happy.
>You're just lucky I keep you around, and you know it. Who else would put up with you and your pathetic excuse for manhood?
Don't you care about your hotwife's happiness?
Prove you love me - fork over some cash for me to spend on my boyfriend!