In the serenity of our home, my husband and I spend tranquil evenings together, often enjoying television. However, there is one recurring issue – a four-inch tube lodged in his posterior, causing him discomfort. Little does he know, I derive immense pleasure from expanding and filling his backside, even desiring to insert both of my fists for a heightened level of satisfaction. I cherish our domestic bliss.
Tonight, I intend to thoroughly enjoy him, equipped with a five-inch strap-on, its diameter providing ample fullness. I will reinsert the tube afterwards, ensuring his night is as comfortable as possible. As I stimulate his manhood, should he fail to reach climax, he will serve as my receptacle for the entire night. Silence, sissy, I am well aware of your inability to release, so prepare yourself for your new role as my urinal. This arrangement allows me the luxury of not having to leave my bed throughout the night.