Jim had just zipped up his trousers when his wife appeared at the door. Tiffany's face was clean but wet splotches of cum had soaked into her night shirt, and some were still speckled in her hair.

"Uh, Tiffany and I were just talking," Jim replied. "She's a little upset and wants to be alone. Perhaps we should leave."

"Tiffany, I want an apology for the way you were talking to us at the breakfast table," Debbie demanded.

"Okay. I'm sorry for telling you I like to fuck and for leaving my cum-stained panties on the coffee table. It won't happen again."

"Don't you talk to me that way, young...