Wifey

Wifey - Chapter ONE

I masturbate, masturbate, and masturbate. Every night. Every day. In the morning, in the bathroom, in my car and when I reach the highest peak I begin to float drifting slowly until I hit the ground. Nothing seems to help. The more I touch myself, the more I want to scream out in agony. My relief last but only for a moment and then it begins to build again. Sometimes I feel as if I am a sex addict or maybe it is just the plain fact that I am not getting “enough”. To be married is to be forever be horny. I guess marriage is not for everyone. It seems as if marriage is not for me.

I lie in the bed while I watch my husband shave, something that I have seen a thousand and a half times. My eyes slowly travel up his body. He has changed since we have been married, not quickly but slowly…very slowly.. change by change by change before my very eyes. His legs has gotten heavier, his stomach is a bit softer, rounder and his hair has quite a bit more gray than it used to have. He is about 30lbs heavier but he is still a very very handsome man.

My husband Larry is so gorgeous; he is almost “beautiful”. He has grayish green eyes that change colors depending upon his moods. When Larry is upset his eyes turn a strong jade green with flecks of gray and when on those rare occasions when he is sad, his eyes become a deep grayish color with dancing green radiating from the center. His skin is a warm brownish color that looks as if he has been dipped in smooth caramel. His pouty lips have a light reddish tinge to them and he has one dimple on the left side. When he is happy, he is sooooo sexy and when he is sad, he is sexy and when he is angry, I just want to rip his clothes off.

He isn’t the only one that has changed though. I have also. I have a little pouch in my lower abdomen where it used to be flat. I have lovely full round lifted sized 36DD breasts compliments of my family heritage where all of the women are well endowed. I am brown also, nothing really special but cocoa colored, the color of chocolate brown coffee beans. I have the longest legs that you have seen. You don’t know where they start and where they end. I smell like peaches, summer ripe ones. The kind of peaches that are so ripe when you bite into them the juice runs down your chin. My skin smells like peaches, my hair smells like peaches and even my “putinani” smells like peaches too. My eyes are a deep brown but turn black in a fit of anger. My hair has deep dark waves so deep that I don’t straighten my hair, I just shake and go.. Soft pretty healthy gorgeous hair, the kind you see with models on TV.

I try to keep active, I take kickboxing classes so my legs are tight. My ass is bigger than it was when I was 25, but it is still smooth to the touch and it sits up high. The kind of butt that you can put a drink on top. When I bend over he can eat dinner on top of my ass…like an “ass shelf”.
Needless to say I agree that I have changed somewhat, but who hasn’t? I have known my hubby since college. Now I am 41. But I look good for my age. Most people do know that that I am the age that I really am. Age to me is just a number. Age is just a state of mind.

I finished getting ready and I grabbed my briefcase and walked out with a bagel stuck in my mouth. So it is asked… like my friends ask me.. what is wrong? You seem perfect. You husband is fine and you are beautiful. Yeah, yeah, yeah.. but what they don’t know is that my husband hasn’t touched my in 120 days, 22 hours and 34 minutes. I am angry, frustrated and just frankly climbing the $#@#$#@$#@$ walls. I try not to think about it but it is consuming me. I am so angry. Flames shoot out from me when I walk, burning up the sidewalk. When I am work, I can’t keep my mind on anything.. I feel like I haven’t eaten in a month and I am starving. Sorry to be so blunt but…..

I need a fuck.

I tried to talk to my husband (what a waste of time). I asked my why he doesn’t want me any longer.. I don’t think it is a matter of cheating, I think it is something else. Anyway, I have begged and pleaded with him. I have talked to him, I have fought with him and nothing changes. Nothing. If he would just tell me what is wrong, things can be worked out. But he says nothing.

On my drive home, I look at the strangers in their cars wondering what it would be like to be with one of them if only for a moment. I constantly feel as if I am searching, searching for something, but I haven’t found it, but I know that it is out there. Somewhere over the rainbow. One those rare, rare occasions where he actually makes love to me, I have to always be the aggressor. I have to practically chase him and that demeans me as a woman. I wonder why do I have to beg, my own husband to love me. I am in a deep dark void and I don’t know what to do.. I don’t know where to go.. I don’t know where to turn. Something is growing in me stronger and stronger. I don’t know what I am going to do. But, I do know that I am about to make a big mistake.

A huge one.