Eight Hundred Thread Count?

"Boring," I kept telling myself, "this is boring," as I looked at the clock for what - the fifteenth time? The red digital digits seemed to bore into my mind, the one actually two thin lines with a dark spot in the center, the zeroes made up of six tiny lines, almost like the eight but the very center line not glowing garish red. Eleven o'clock became eleven oh one, eleven oh two and on and on and on.

The headboard was an odd concoction of wood shapes, the pattern so large it was seemingly pattern-less unless you really concentrated on the twist and turn of individual wood pieces. It must have been really difficult to finish the wood without forming the drips of excess stain or varnish and yet even looking deep into the most intricate joints of wood showed no excess. Someone had to have spent a lot of time finishing the wood.

The sheets felt so soft under my knees and hands, I guessed it must have been three -- four hundred thread count. Hell, was that a lot? Was it really more like an 800 thread count? Who really counts them anyways? I mean if you buy the sheets and then sit down and only count say seven hundred ninety do you take them back and demand a refund.

"Well the ad said eight hundred and there's only seven hundred and ninety threads!"

"You're not supposed to count them."

"But if I don't count them how will I know if it's really eight hundred threads?"

"You feel the smoothness, the softness of it."

"Yes, but you can't really tell how many threads there are so I counted them."

"Like I said, you aren't supposed to count them, besides I'm sure it's just an average count, not exact."

"Then the ad should say the thread count is about eight hundred, instead of saying it is eight hundred when it's not. That's why I want to return them."

"I can't take them back just for that, besides, there are stains... are those cum stains?"

"They might be..."

I heard a moan and refocused asking myself, "Is she there yet?" I increased the pace of my thrusts a bit and then felt the wonderful softness of her all around me. Yes the pleasure was building, but wait, no not yet...

"Boring," I tried to convince myself, "this is boring." I stared at the clock, at the four garish red ones, actually two thin lines for each one with a dark spot in the middle.

"What the fuck?" There was a dog sitting there staring at us. "Son of a bitch," I thought to myself, but wait, no, it's just that stuffed dog I won at the carnival for her. Damn, it still was unnerving having that thing sitting there so I tossed a pillow and knocked it over.

The carnival! That was fun, with the barbequed turkey legs and sausage on a stick. The rides were crap, but hey, I did find that easy game and got to show off some. Grand prize a real looking dog... too real as it turned out.

Wait, another moan, this time she lifted her hips up to meet my thrust. Was it? Could it be? Yes, she lifted up off the bed and pushed herself against me as I thrust deep inside her. I looked down at her face, her eyes closed, her lips pulled tight as she whimpered a bit and then moaned, "Yes, yes, faster."

I quickened my pace again, shoving my cock deep into her pussy, letting myself focus on the sensation of her, the wet warmth that surrounded me, they way she now moved beneath me, lifting herself to grind against me. Yes, she was close. I could feel her nails digging into my shoulders.

Suddenly she grunted, lifted her ass off the bed and then went slack beneath me as she gasped for breath. I pushed my cock to the hilt and then paused, feeling her pussy convulse around my cock. I kept myself pushed deep inside her until I felt the pulsations subside, then I slowly withdrew a bit and then eased back into her.

She was very wet now and I slid easily in and out of her. Looking down at her face, her breasts and then down to where I could see my glistening cock slip out of her before each thrust I let myself focus on her body, on how incredible she felt and on the wonderful sensation I felt in and on my cock. It was only a few moments before the pleasure shot though me and I pushed my cock as it spurted my cum deep inside her pussy.

I then rolled off of her, gasping for breath as I glanced back at the clock. The red digits read eleven twelve. Wow a whole twelve minutes, what a man I am.

When she lifted her head and said, "That was nice want to do it again?" I simply kept my eyes closed and pretended to be asleep while running my fingernails over the sheets, silently counting the threads.