Infidelity by Pat Tucker

problem is. You act like a brotha gonna give you the heebeegeebees or something."
    "Clarke, that has nothing to do with it and you know it. A disease isn’t the only thing we got to think about. I don’t want to get pregnant right now. We just need to be careful, that’s all I’m saying."
    He started pouting, hoping that would change her mind.
    "Well, maybe you could kiss a brotha off to sleep. I need something Shorty!" He looked down at the bulge in his pants. "Look at this. You gonna let a rock hard thangie go to waste, baby?"
    "I’m afraid so; if we ain’t got no condoms."
    "Okay." He started unzipping his pants. "Well here. Let me sit on the couch so you can get busy. How’s that sound?"
    "Why don’t I go check and see if I have any condoms in my car?" Persha said.
    His eyes lit up. "No shit?"
    "It might be old, but I may have one or two lying around somewhere. It’s worth a try to go look."
    "Cool, okay, but hurry back," he whined.
    Persha got up from the floor and picked up her slip. As she was about to put it over her head, he tugged at it.
    "Quite surely you don’t expect me to go out there naked do you?" she asked with a sensual grin.
    "Nah, Shorty. I’m just admiring your goddess of a body. Okay, go ahead, but hurry back!" He started stroking himself again.
    Persha put on the slip and stepped back into her mules. As she reached the door, she turned back and looked at Clarke.
    "Dammit, my keys are upstairs in my purse. I’ll be right back," she said as she headed up the steps and retrieved her keys.
    When she came back downstairs, she could barely make it out the door before he stopped her.
    "Where are you going with your purse?"
    "Clarke, if I can’t find a condom in the car, I’m gonna drive down to the corner store."
    With a bewildered look on his face he said, "What corner store?"
    "I’ll find one," she said, slamming the door behind her.
    Ten minutes later, when Persha still hadn’t returned, Clarke thought about going to look down the street but he figured he’d just wait. If worse came to worse, he’d just have to beat himself off then make her work to get it back up.
    Things were getting pretty steamy on the flick, and he didn’t know how much longer he could wait. He figured he’d at least get out of the pants, that way she could really get an idea of the seriousness of the situation.
    Lying back on the sofa with his eyes glued to the big screen TV, Clarke was getting all worked up. His mind kept thinking of all the ways he’d fuck Persha. Maybe on the coffee table, standing up, or even on a chair, or they’d try them all. But, the way he was feeling, he could probably fuck her for hours non-stop and he’d be okay with that too.
    When he looked up nearly 20 minutes later and he was still alone, he started wondering just where the hell she was.
    "Damn!" he spat, getting up from his spot in front of some action he’d soon try to match. He walked to the door, and just as he was about the grab the knob, it swung open.
    His eyes widened in horror and his mouth dropped.
    Kelsa took one look at her husband and started frowning.
    "What are you doing up in your underwear?" she asked.
    He followed her gaze down to his crotch and shrugged his shoulders. What the fuck? he thought. Suddenly he started perspiring.
    "Hey! Kelsa!" he said awkwardly.
    "Well, are you gonna let me in or just stand here blocking the doorway?" she asked, sounding irritated.
    "Oh, shit! Ah, I’m, oh, yeah, of course you can come in. This is your house!" He watched as she stepped past him and into the living room.
    Clarke closed the door and dead bolted the lock. He even looked out the peephole before turning to see his wife standing there with her hands on her hips.
    "What the hell is going on in here?" she hissed. He knew she was fuming. He could visualize the smoke that would be coming from her ears if she were a cartoon character.
    "Oh, that," he motioned toward the large screen and the people performing various sexual