The Beginning
"Honey, are you listening to me?" I asked.
"What, oh I'm sorry...what did you say?" Mike replied.
I sighed, "never mind...I can't compete with that damn T.V. and I'm tired of trying," I said and walked to our bedroom. Mike shrugged and resumed watching his show.
Thirteen years of being married, I should be used to this by now. But it still hurt that he doesn't pay much attention to me. I had done everything the marriage counselor had told us. His only directive had been to try to be more romantic. He didn't even try.
Honestly, it hadn't been a problem years ago because I knew he loved me and was so busy with the kids, I just overlooked it. But now, after leaving me three years earlier and having not one but two affairs, I just seemed to need more reassurance. I'd told him as much and still...nothing.
I sat and thought about it and wondered if maybe the time I had taken from him to spend on our children in their younger days had dampened his feelings for me. Maybe it was time I showed him that I was still a vibrant sexual woman, who wanted him more than anything.
That night as I got into bed, I climbed between the sheets next to him with nothing on under my nightie; snuggled up to him and started kissing his ear; a surefire way to turn him on. It didn't take long before his cock was at full attention as he reached between my legs and began stroking me, the way only he knew turned me on. As he teased and tantalized my sensitive clit, pushing me toward orgasm, I was simply in heaven. Then before I could cum, he flipped her over and pushed up behind me. As he slid his hardened cock into my waiting, wet pussy, he reached around and continued to massage my clit, making me moan and push against him in rhythm with his pace. Her breathing quickened and I began telling him how good he felt inside me; I was so close to orgasm I could barely catch her breath, pumping harder and harder against him, pushing him into me as far as I could. I cried out as she came and the tightening of my cunt around him pushed him over the brink as well.
As I dropped down on the bed, Mike rolled away. Before I could reach out and touch him, he was up and pulling his pajama pants back on. "Good Night, honey, I love you," he said as he kissed me then turned over to go to sleep. Not exactly what I had wanted but I was going to keep this up until we came to the point of connection we had once known.
This routine went on for weeks. Where I had once been so tired and rarely able to have sex with Mike but a few times a month, I was doing everything she could to keep up my energy and make sure I let him know how much I loved and desired him. Some nights, when he was too tired, I'd give him a blow job, using every move I knew he loved, expecting nothing in return but to make him happy. But even that elicited nothing from him. I still fought for his attention and he evidently wasn't motivated to any romantic gestures. It seemed he already knew how much I loved him and had no reason to give me what I needed. But his security would turn to dismay soon enough.
It was a warm, breezy spring evening and three months had passed since I had begun my initiative to turn my husband's attention to me. I had another trick up my sleeve and tonight was the night I was going to put it in motion. After bathing in almond oil, applying makeup and doing my hair, I dressed in the outfit I'd bought last week; the black thigh high stockings snapped to the garter belt, no panties, a black lace bustier with matching mini skirt and high heels. I clipped my curly raven hair so its mass was held up but tendrils of curl feel around my face and shoulders. I finished up, took a look in the mirror. Satisfied with the results, I headed out the door.
A short time later, I messaged Mike, knowing he would just be getting home. "After you take your shower, meet me at J.D.'s pub and we'll have some dinner and drinks. ". Mike shrugged and figured, why not, took his shower, dressed and headed for J.D's. When he walked in and looked around, he didn't see her so he figured she must be in the bathroom. He took a seat at the bar and ordered a Bud Ice. He might have a shot or two after dinner but for now, the beer went down cold and soothing.
"Hey, sexy, come here often?" I whisperder in his ear, using my sultriest voice. He turned to respond and stopped dead still when he took one look at me. He sat with his mouth open, looking me up and then down.
"Good God, what in the hell are you wearing?" he exclaimed, as he laughed and shook his head. Not exactly the response I had been going for...and that was it. I'd had enough. After all the thought, work and effort I had put in the past few months, only to be discouraged at every turn, I was done.
Without a word, I turned and walked out the door to my car. As I turned the key, I knew I wasn't about to go home and have to face him later. I felt sad, angry, humiliated and completely and totally unloved. The feelings were so overwhelming, I felt suffocated by them.
With nowhere to go that I wanted to be, I drove off and stopped at the store to get a bottle of wine. I'll just park at the lake and drink until I pass out. Why not? I have nothing better to do.
As I got out of her car, I heard someone call my name.
