The Website
This is part three of the Ellen and Bob story.
As he looked out the window of the small compact Uber carrying him home, Bob was deep in thought. His disposition was as dark and gloomy as the weather. 'I guess we had to fight sooner or later,' as he repeatedly played the scenario in his head. As embarrassing as it was for him, there were things they needed to talk about, which brought those subjects to a mind-numbing tipping point.
Ellen's accounting career had taken off, and with it, the need to have conference calls all hours of the night, given the global nature of the company she worked for. She worked late to discuss issues in Asia or got up at night to talk to someone in Europe. Bob wasn't immune to this either. His architectural skills were in high demand at his company, and he needed to take advantage of market opportunities and the current building boom. They felt the urgency to 'make hay while the sun was shining,' leading to schedules that did not coincide often.
The first year of their marriage had been great. They had rented a downtown apartment close to their jobs and enjoyed a kid-free, house-free life. They appreciated the music scene, museums, libraries, and theatre whenever they could. Then life came calling; Bob was promoted first, and his designs became popular. Ellen went to the global accounting desk, and while it was a step up with upwardly mobile possibilities, the hours were gruesome.
Their intimate life the first year had been fulfilling and frequent, and they wondered if the "Penny Jar Test" was a thing. They were sure they would empty the jar within a year or two after their first year of wedded bliss. Bob was usually the more adventurous in the bedroom, while Ellen was content with 'vanilla sex.' With their careers taking off, they saw a dramatic downturn in romance, and that's where the disagreement started.
Ellen was washing dishes, the last thing she wanted to do that night. She had put in a typically long day, and there were things she had to do before going to bed. Bob had come behind her and probably picked the wrong time to pull up her shirt and kiss her neck.
"You must be out of your mind!" She said. "Do you have any idea what kind of a day I have had? Shitty! That's what kind of day, and then I came home to dishes in the sink and groceries to put away."
"The dishes belonged to both of us. I thought going to the grocery store was necessary since we were out of half the usual items to keep the kitchen stocked. Then I had to answer emails. By the way, it's been two weeks since we had sex. I don't think I am 'out of my mind' to see if you were interested; it's not like we're going to have interesting sex!"
"So, now you're saying I'm not interesting in bed OR pulling my weight around here. I'm sorry, I'm not some slut that spreads my legs whenever you get a hard-on or who fornicates from the rafters. I'm sorry; a Baptist minister and his wife raised me, and discussing sex was forbidden. I'm sorry, I'm not like my sisters who got away with murder when my dad started to travel, and they could do whatever they wanted, including bringing boys in through the upstairs windows in the middle of the night. Maybe you could call and see if they are available tonight, or you could find someone you used to go out with and screw them!"
Bob knew her anger was the stress of her current position and circumstances and instantly regretted what he said. "You know I don't want anyone else. I want more time for us and maybe try some things to spice up our sex life. We could experiment with other positions or some of the new lubes or watch a porn movie together--"
"Stop it. Just stop it. It makes me feel even more inadequate. You know I am not comfortable with any of that."
"You are exactly what I want. I'm trying to help us through this busy time, and I was hoping WE could find some way to get things going again." Bob needed something since they went from almost a daily fling to once or twice a month. He watched porn, which he infrequently did, except when he had been single and unattached. He wasn't making much progress in calming the situation and, if anything, was adding gas to the fire, but he was unwittingly about to pump a gas station full over the flames.
They gave each other that 'let's agree to disagree' look, and the argument ended. Bob went into their only bathroom; despite the altercation, he needed to 'take care of business' since it had been on his mind so much. He didn't lift the toilet lid; he pulled down his pants and underwear, sat, and recalled a particular porn scene. The woman was on all fours and passionately getting it from behind, something he wished his wife was more into. She would do it when he asked her repeatedly but had hoped she would enjoy and occasionally offer it. He stopped to get out his phone, and it only took him a few minutes to find the clip he remembered. With the phone in one hand and his hard, engorged member in the other, he earnestly took matters 'into his own hands'--or hand.
The door opened, and Ellen stood aghast at the scene. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? I can't believe you would do that after what we went through. You don't give a shit about me! You are such a fucking jerk!" She yelled loud enough for the neighbors to hear. "How could you do this?"
"Hey! I have needs that have to be taken care of. I can't go from five times a week to twice a month and not do something. At least I'm not cheating on you." The second he said it, he wished he could put the words back in his mouth. Could he stop putting his foot in his mouth? Always the movie guy, he almost unconsciously added, 'Doesn't anyone knock anymore?'
"That's your excuse? You are jerking off, so you don't have to cheat. If you don't get 'IT' from me, you'll threaten me with cheating? Do you think this is funny?"
"God, I so wish I hadn't said that! I am so sorry. I didn't mean it that way and would never cheat on you."
"That's not what you said!" Ellen's face was getting redder.
