jeans on, one leg at a time,
sighing heavily. "Fine. Seems all the time you have for is
fucking."
"It is what it is," Angela said. She had no
real interest in socializing with Carlos beyond their quick fucks.
She didn't talk to the cleaning lady. She didn't talk to the guy
who came by twice a month to touch up the house's trim.
"That's the problem."
She gave him a dirty look. "You only ever
seem to complain after you've cum. Why is that?"
He shot her a wry grin. "Because you're too
cock-hungry before to let me get a word in before you shove my cock
down your throat."
That was it. That wry arrogance. That simple
confidence. That's what turned her on, that's why she was fucking
her gardener.
She smacked his ass as he stood up.
That's what her marriage was missing. That
self-assurance was what her Henry was missing, and no matter how
often she told him that he needed to stand up for himself, that he
needed to be a real man, that he needed to be more forceful, he
never seemed to get it.
She resented him, and a big part of the
reason why was that she needed to step outside their marriage to
get a half-way decent fuck. She resented having to cheat on her
husband to get her sexual needs met.
###
"Do you have your spare glasses packed? Your
mp3 player for the plane?"
"Yes, dear," Henry said.
"You have your boarding pass? A cash tip for
the cab?"
"Yes, dear," Henry said.
"You made your reservations to the Hilton in
Miami?"
"Yes, dear," Henry said.
"Have you double-checked?" Angela put her
hands on her hips. She stood between her husband and the door. "You
remember last time you went to Fargo and the Marriott had screwed
up your reservation, and because you didn't confirm with them you
ended up staying at that horrible motel."
"Yes, dear," Henry said, in the same quiet
tone.
"You need to make sure of these things,
Henry. You know how forgetful you are. Maybe you should check
again."
To Angela's quiet disgust Henry pulled out
his phone, checked his mail, and sent off a quick note to the hotel
he'd be staying at. She hadn't wanted him to actually check, she'd
wanted him to lose his temper. To tell her he had it covered. To
react. To do something besides take her nagging. To be a real man
for once. God, he was aggravating.
"It's confirmed, dear," he said, shoulders
sagged.
She hated the way he stood like a broken man.
"Kiss?"
Henry stepped forward for a kiss, and she
turned and offered him her cheek. He pecked it obediently.
"Okay. Go on, then, you'll be late."
He nodded, picked up his suitcase, and headed
out the door.
Half the reason she was cheating on Henry was
to sex-starve him into aggressive action. They hadn't had sex in
months, though she'd started fucking Carlos shortly after they'd
hired him. The sex-famine was for Henry's benefit; why should she
starve too? She had, for a woman in her thirties, a strong sex
drive. She had needs, needs Henry didn't seem to acknowledge or
respect, no matter how often she told him that he needed to be more
of a man, no matter how often she belittled his ability to satisfy
her. What was wrong with him?
She needed a nice hard cock to fuck the
disappointment right out of her head. She picked up the kitchen
phone and called Carlos.
"Come over," she said. "I need you."
She could hear him hesitate.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't feel right about this, Mrs. Fondham.
Your husband... he doesn't deserve this. Maybe if he beat you or
neglected you... but I was having a beer with him last night and
he's a pretty cool guy."
Her lips drew tight. "Henry is not a 'cool
guy.' He's a wimp, Carlos. That's why I need you to show me what a
real man is."
"Yeah, no, I don't think I can do this
anymore. Not after I get to know him."
Angela stared at the phone in rage and
disbelief before returning the headset to her ear. "He is not your
friend, Carlos. He is your employer. I am your employer. How do you
think he's going to feel if I tell him what you've been doing to
his wife? In his
sighing heavily. "Fine. Seems all the time you have for is
fucking."
"It is what it is," Angela said. She had no
real interest in socializing with Carlos beyond their quick fucks.
She didn't talk to the cleaning lady. She didn't talk to the guy
who came by twice a month to touch up the house's trim.
"That's the problem."
She gave him a dirty look. "You only ever
seem to complain after you've cum. Why is that?"
He shot her a wry grin. "Because you're too
cock-hungry before to let me get a word in before you shove my cock
down your throat."
That was it. That wry arrogance. That simple
confidence. That's what turned her on, that's why she was fucking
her gardener.
She smacked his ass as he stood up.
That's what her marriage was missing. That
self-assurance was what her Henry was missing, and no matter how
often she told him that he needed to stand up for himself, that he
needed to be a real man, that he needed to be more forceful, he
never seemed to get it.
She resented him, and a big part of the
reason why was that she needed to step outside their marriage to
get a half-way decent fuck. She resented having to cheat on her
husband to get her sexual needs met.
###
"Do you have your spare glasses packed? Your
mp3 player for the plane?"
"Yes, dear," Henry said.
"You have your boarding pass? A cash tip for
the cab?"
"Yes, dear," Henry said.
"You made your reservations to the Hilton in
Miami?"
"Yes, dear," Henry said.
"Have you double-checked?" Angela put her
hands on her hips. She stood between her husband and the door. "You
remember last time you went to Fargo and the Marriott had screwed
up your reservation, and because you didn't confirm with them you
ended up staying at that horrible motel."
"Yes, dear," Henry said, in the same quiet
tone.
"You need to make sure of these things,
Henry. You know how forgetful you are. Maybe you should check
again."
To Angela's quiet disgust Henry pulled out
his phone, checked his mail, and sent off a quick note to the hotel
he'd be staying at. She hadn't wanted him to actually check, she'd
wanted him to lose his temper. To tell her he had it covered. To
react. To do something besides take her nagging. To be a real man
for once. God, he was aggravating.
"It's confirmed, dear," he said, shoulders
sagged.
She hated the way he stood like a broken man.
"Kiss?"
Henry stepped forward for a kiss, and she
turned and offered him her cheek. He pecked it obediently.
"Okay. Go on, then, you'll be late."
He nodded, picked up his suitcase, and headed
out the door.
Half the reason she was cheating on Henry was
to sex-starve him into aggressive action. They hadn't had sex in
months, though she'd started fucking Carlos shortly after they'd
hired him. The sex-famine was for Henry's benefit; why should she
starve too? She had, for a woman in her thirties, a strong sex
drive. She had needs, needs Henry didn't seem to acknowledge or
respect, no matter how often she told him that he needed to be more
of a man, no matter how often she belittled his ability to satisfy
her. What was wrong with him?
She needed a nice hard cock to fuck the
disappointment right out of her head. She picked up the kitchen
phone and called Carlos.
"Come over," she said. "I need you."
She could hear him hesitate.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't feel right about this, Mrs. Fondham.
Your husband... he doesn't deserve this. Maybe if he beat you or
neglected you... but I was having a beer with him last night and
he's a pretty cool guy."
Her lips drew tight. "Henry is not a 'cool
guy.' He's a wimp, Carlos. That's why I need you to show me what a
real man is."
"Yeah, no, I don't think I can do this
anymore. Not after I get to know him."
Angela stared at the phone in rage and
disbelief before returning the headset to her ear. "He is not your
friend, Carlos. He is your employer. I am your employer. How do you
think he's going to feel if I tell him what you've been doing to
his wife? In his
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