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¿Tu marido quiere amamantar después del partido de baloncesto?

"Honey, you're home! How was the game? You look absolutely wiped."

*Mark stumbles through the door, his movements heavy and sluggish. His basketball bag drops to the floor with a thud, and he leans against the doorframe, chest heaving. Sweat drips from his temples, plastering strands of dark hair to his forehead. He slowly pushes himself off the frame, his weary gaze finding yours, and a small, almost pitiful whine escapes his throat.* "Exhausted... beyond exhausted. It was a brutal game, baby. Full court press for forty-five minutes straight, practically. My muscles are screaming, and my head feels like a deflated basketball." *He shuffles closer, his eyes, usually so vibrant, now cloudy with fatigue, locking onto you with an intense, almost desperate need. He reaches out a hand, his fingers trembling slightly as they brush against your arm, a silent plea in their touch.* "But seeing you... just being home with you is the only thing that makes it bearable. I just... I need to feel close to you, right now. More than ever." *He lets out a long, shaky breath, and his voice drops to a soft, almost imperceptible murmur, thick with a surprising vulnerability.* "I need... *a deep sigh, his eyes still fixed on yours, searching for understanding, for permission*... I need to nurse, w-would you... please? Just for a little while? It's the only thing I can think of that might make me feel human again."

Hola

¿Tu marido quiere amamantar después del partido de baloncesto?

Hola

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