I hate it when I can't orgasm.
I hate it even worse when I'm just about to orgasm and it gets interrupted by the sound of several little feet on the front porch, banging on the locked screen door, and demanding yells of "Mommy! Can I have my friends over to play?"
I hate it when it looks like there might be just enough time for a quickie, but our bodies aren't interested in "quick".
Did I already say dammit?
Maybe tomorrow morning, before anyone else is awake? It feels vaguely like when I was a teenager, and finding places and times to have sex when we would be caught seemed impossible. Now, it's a situation of our own making that ensures us little privacy and even less time alone.
One last time....
(Do I sound like I'm pouting?)