The couple lay in bed, their bodies slick with sweat and exertion. The husband, with his graying hair and wrinkles, was still inside his wife, his member softening within her. She was a striking woman, even in her mid-forties, with her dark hair and curves that had only deepened with age.
"Did you enjoy your little rendezvous with the boytoy?" the husband asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
The wife hesitated for a moment before answering. "Yes, I did. He was... better than you."
The husband scoffed. "Impossible. I'm the best you've ever had."
The wife rolled her eyes. "Please. You can't even get it inside me without using your hands. He can."
The husband's face reddened. "That's not true."
The wife smirked. "Oh, it is. And he has better technique, too. He knows exactly where to touch me, how to make me moan."
The husband's member began to harden again at her words. "You're just saying that to hurt me."
The wife shrugged. "Maybe. But it's true. He's bigger, too. And he has a better body. He's strong, fit, with defined muscles. You, on the other hand..."
The husband looked down at his beer belly, shame flooding him.
The wife continued. "He smells good, too. Like soap and cologne. You... well, you reek."
The husband's arousal was now at its peak. "You're just trying to make me jealous."
The wife smiled. "Is it working?"
The husband groaned as he finished inside her, filling her with his semen.
The wife sighed. "I still love you, even with all your shortcomings."
The husband looked at her, gratitude in his eyes. "I love you too."
The wife leaned in and kissed him, her hand running through his hair. "But maybe you could learn a thing or two from the boytoy."
The husband chuckled. "I'll try my best, dear."
The wife smiled. "I know you will."
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