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There are no characters under the age of 18-years-old in this story.
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Sex with her husband, John, was the worst sex that Kathy ever had.
Continued from Chapter 04:
After working full-time jobs while raising three children, as if severed with a knife, the excitement of their hectic schedules abruptly ended in retirement. From that, to this, and soon to nothing, the end of their days would soon be near. Yet, losing their identities was more of a loss than losing their jobs. On the other hand, no longer feeling like indentured servants, their debt was paid and their final reward earned was their meager retirements combined with their entitlement to modest, monthly, Social Security checks.
'Entitlement, some entitlement. The new buzz word, was the spin that politicians loved to use in reference to the lowly middle class. What was even worse than calling people like her entitled was when they referred to themselves as public servants,' she thought and stopped thinking about the state of affairs and the way of the world so as to not get angry. 'Public servants, my ass. The only public they serve are themselves. If they are anything, they are self-serving, public thieves,' she thought.
Now earning just enough money between the two of them to survive, with health care costs eating up a big chuck of their income, they didn't feel very entitled. They certainly didn't feel as entitled as the entitled politicians who liked to call themselves public servants. Indeed, with those voted into office all greedy, self-righteous, self-serving, lying, cheating, and thieving, they were hardly the public servants they professed to be.
After working outside of the house most of her adult life, retirement was such a dramatic change. As much of a change as going from a whore having sex with random men to becoming a faithful wife and a loving mother. As if shaking her from a dream, it felt as if someone took her by the shoulders and shook her from unconscious thought to consciousness. Now that she was finally awake from the flashbacks of her life, she just wanted to go back to sleep. With that wish coming true soon enough, sometimes she wished she could sleep forever.
'You don't have to go to work today. You may stay in bed or do whatever you'd like to do rather than to go to work. You're retired,' said a voice in her head.
Only, she didn't feel as retired as she felt rejected. She felt rejected because she was old, outdated, and not as useful as her younger protégé. Trying to help her make the adjustment from working every day to staying home every day, there was always that familiar voice talking to her. She'd consider working part-time somewhere doing something but no one would pay her what she was worth. Besides, she was always so tired, sometimes too tired to even read.
As much as she felt excited that she didn't have to get up every day to get ready for work, she felt sad at the same time by the prospect of not having to work and being retired. Only, where she had a purpose before with working full-time, caring for her children, her husband, the house, and earning her master's degree at night, now there was nothing but reading and gardening. Now there was nothing but the past, a constant reminder of all the mistakes she made in the one life she had to live. Now there was nothing by John pacing the house when he wasn't masturbating and asking her for sex.
'Tick, tick, tick, tick...'
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Seemingly, when they were young and both healthy, busy doing everything and busy doing nothing, there was always something to do and somewhere to go. Now as if they had already died and were forgotten, no one invited them anywhere anymore. Guilty of that too, they didn't invite anyone anywhere anymore either. In fairness, many of their friends moved, divorced, or died and she didn't have the motivation and/or energy she once had to open her heart, her life, and her house to new friends or to track down the old ones.
Been there and done that, she was too tired for all that bullshit. She was tired of commitments and content to stay home and read. John was the one who was sad and depressed. He had one best friend and he died. When his friend died, it was as if he died too and then when the dog died, John's depression had worsened. Yet, indeed, with both seemingly somewhat content to be alone and lonely, with her happy to be alone reading and him struggling with his loneliness, they were a match made in Heaven.
Between driving the kids to band practice, team sports, and school events, what little time they had left to share with one another in the bedroom was not as much time as John wanted. Truth be told, done sucking and fucking men, she was glad that part of her life was over. She never enjoyed having sex with John. Once she stopped her whoring with hot men, she was done with sex other than her bare, necessary, wifely duty.
Clumsy in his groping of her, never taking his time, and with her always feeling rushed, she never felt anything but the pressure of him on top of him. As if she had a timer in her head while they had sex, all she heard was him grunting and the infernal ticking of the annoying grandfather clock. Besides, he was too gentle and too nice when she needed someone who was rough and mean. She needed to be called names while being pushed, shoved, slapped around, and forced to do every sexual thing the man wanted her to do.
