Not even close

You wake up early the next morning with Amber still sleeping.

You study her for a moment. Her long red hair flows over her body. Her breasts threaten to escape the little nightgown and her pussy lips press against the thin fabric of the panties she always wears. You tried to persuade her that naked was better but without much success. In fact, now that you think about it, you were never able to persuade her of anything. Sometimes you wonder how you managed to talk her into marrying you although the pregnancy scare probably had something to do with it.

You reach over and caress her breasts.

There really isn't anything else quite like the softness of female breasts and your dick hardens as you stroke them.

"What are you doing?" She sounds cross.

"Playing with my wife's breasts. It's early. How about a little--"

Amber sighs. "We had sex last week. Why are you always so needy?"

You're pretty sure you didn't have sex last week. In fact, you can't remember the last time you got any action at all... beyond permission to masturbate which, when you think about it, isn't that big a deal. Who needs permission to masturbate?

"Come on, Amber. It's been a long time."

"Well, it's just going to have to be longer. I've got to get to work." She gets up and heads for the shower.

Well, shit.

You pour yourself a bowl of cereal, then, when Amber comes out of the bathroom, take your own shower.

She's gone when you come out so you head for work yourself. Today is your annual evaluation and you're pretty confident you're up for that promotion.