Life Within the Gilded Cage

You turn to me

About a month ago, Janet's husband was feeling in a rare amourous mood one night. She said he was all smiles and innuendos -- but then they climb into bed and he rolls over and goes to sleep. Then at 3 a.m. he wakes up, climbs on top of her, and does the deed. According to Janet it happens so quickly, that he explodes BEFORE even entering her. He mumbles a brief apology, rolls away from her and goes back to snoring. Poor Janet lays there, wide awake, half naked, frustrated, and feeling incredibly rejected.

The next morning she calls, and says she needs to see me right away. She runs to my house, and climbs into bed with me. As we make love, she is almost frantic. She is on top of me, rubbing against me, making tortured little sounds of pain and pleasure. After she has her orgasm she collapses at my side and begins to cry. Is she upset because of her infidelity, or because she has just used me for her own pleasure. Maybe it's a little of both.

"Sometimes I think I know how a man feels," she sniffles. "Sometimes I just need it, and I want it." She explained to me her husband's dismal performance the night before, and how it left her feeling alone and rejected. When she brought it up to him in the morning, he apologized and said he was feeling tired. It sounds more to me, like the man has some sexual issues -- performance issues, and he is trying to mask it by jumping her bones at 3 a.m., instead of facing her and joining in mutual lovemaking.

I smile at her, "You call me, whenever you need me. I would never turn my back to you."

After Janet leaves, I wonder if I should feel used. Once again the whore, there to supply sexual satisfaction. 'Tis not actually a bad thing. I am the one Janet turns to, and that is all that really matters.