“What? Talk to who?”
“Like a therapist or something. This isn’t normal.”
Her sexual frustration turned to anger. How could two people have desires so far apart? “Not normal? Not normal!? Not normal is barely having sex, and when we do, doing it in missionary. God, I hate missionary!!!”
“Keep your voice down,” Tom whispered. “And since when do you hate missionary? You’ve never said anything.”
“Why do I have to say something?” she asked with an aggravated tone to her voice. “Why can’t you just know? Why can’t you be a man?”
“Be a man? I am a man, Jen. What I wasn’t aware of is the fact that I’m married to a fuckin’ slut.”
Her eyes bulged at his last comment. Tom never swore, and he especially never called her names. “A fuckin’ slut?” Maybe she had something going here? There was a fire in his eyes that she hadn’t seen in a long time. Questioning his masculinity had bothered him, and it allowed her to explore an opportunity to receive what she needed.
“I’m a dirty little slut,” she said.
She watched his lips part as she braced herself for what he would say.
Demand that I suck your cock. No, don’t demand it! Grab my hair and fuck my face until I can’t breathe! Cum in your hand and make me lick it clean! Just do something kinky for once in your life!!!
“Fine,” he huffed, pointing at the mattress. “If you want me behind you…then okay…I guess.”
Yes! Oh my God, finally! Something other than missionary!
She would get spanked, have her neck snapped back, and do all the things that those sexy porn girls did in the X-rated movies that she’d become all too familiar with over the past decade. And the amateur videos she watched of couples filming wild stuff? She wanted in on it! Tom would never look like the man she wanted to fuck, but he could still fuck her like a man.
This was it! This was the turning point in her miserable marriage! She wouldn’t be sexually deprived any longer!
She quickly positioned herself on her hands and knees and felt him carefully push inside her before taking a short, quick pump. It was followed by another weak thrust. It certainly wasn’t the rough pounding that she had in mind.
“Fuck me,” she said.
His pace didn’t change.
“Fuck me, Tom!” she demanded.
“I am,” he said.
“No, you’re not,” she huffed. “Just fuckin’ give it to me!!!”
Tom responded by smacking her plump butt lightly. She barely felt it. In fact, the thuds from his big stomach thumping against her backside were far harsher.
She remained on her knees with her butt in the air and her chin resting against her hands, bored out of her mind as her husband did his best to play out her fantasy. Why did she continue to lie to herself? She would never get what she needed from him.
Jen waited in silence for him to finish before her misery was mercifully ended from the warmth of several spurts of cum landing on her butt and lower back. She climbed out of bed and shuffled to the hallway bathroom to clean herself off.
She was strong enough to handle her situation. Plenty of men and women were stuck in crappy marriages. There was no reason to feel sorry for herself. She–
She started to cry.
She rushed to turn on the bathroom wall fan to drown out the sound of her sobs. Why was she like this? Why couldn’t she just be happy? She had a beautiful daughter, an enjoyable career, a nice home, friends, and a husband who didn’t cheat or abuse her. She should be thankful for all that she’d been blessed with, but deep down, she knew that she would never get the one thing that she truly desired.
Maybe it was time to look elsewhere? Even during all the awful years of being trapped in a dead-bedroom marriage, she’d only ever tried to change herself and Tom. She’d never considered attempting to find what she needed elsewhere.
There were so many options. She was surrounded by millions of men who would give her what she wanted, but it still didn’t feel right. Cheating on the man who she’d promised to stay loyal to wasn’t something she could do on a whim. This wasn’t a game.
She seriously needed to think.
Chapter 3 — Finding Out About Mr. M
Jen sat alone at the kitchen table while a familiar noise rang in her ears. The sound was straight from her nightmares. She couldn’t escape it. Wherever she went, whatever she did, and no matter what she attempted to think about, that enraging commotion refused to leave her head.
Crunch… Crunch… Crunch…
Tom had traded shifts with his coworker and didn’t have to be at work until two in the afternoon today, so why could she still feel his presence at the table? There wasn’t an overweight, antisocial recluse sitting across from her on this fall morning. And not only could she still hear him; she could sense him.
The timid and passionless sex from hours ago lingered. She was never even granted the opportunity to allow Ryan to seep into her mind last night, and her fantasy evening was rather lackluster as a result without the main attraction making an appearance. There was no successful businessman, no ripped stud, and no real man who took what he wanted. It was merely another boring night with her mediocre husband.
Why did she feel a connection to Ryan? She didn’t know anything about him, but there was a sense of chemistry in their brief interaction on his front step. It was an impression that she couldn’t easily move on from.
She could picture the way that he moved and operated in the bedroom. She could visualize his love for rough sex and endless kinks. There was a certain vibe which resonated from the good-looking man next door. His presence created a powerful energy.
She’d occasionally encountered these types of mysterious men at the gym or while out running errands. They were the kind of guys who not only knew what they wanted, but went for it too. Those same studs hit on her despite the wedding ring on her finger. And why wouldn’t they? They saw a woman they wanted, so they made their intentions perfectly clear, and receiving attention from high-status men was the highest compliment possible to her at this point in her life.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” Jen greeted Ashley. “Someone’s up early for once.”
The young girl momentarily disappeared behind the refrigerator door to dig around inside for ingredients. She soon re-emerged with two handfuls of fruits and vegetables in assorted bags for a morning smoothie. “I know. Couldn’t really sleep. Where’s Dad?”
“He’s working late today. How are things going with your boyfriend, by the way? I feel like we haven’t talked about Mike in a while.”
Ashley piled kale into the blender before dropping several frozen strawberries in as well. “Um…good…I guess.”
“Uh-oh.”
She shot her mother a look. “Uh-oh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“‘I guess’ is never good,” Jen remarked before taking a sip of coffee. “At least in my experience.”
“Well…I just…I don’t know,” Ashley debated with herself. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it?”
Jen was blown away. Where in the world did this lack of openness come from? “Excuse me?”
Ashley tossed a small pile of carrots, tomatoes, and blueberries into the blender and fastened the lid after adding some water. “I know that we talk about pretty much everything, but this is kind of personal.”