Author's Note
:
This is the first installment of a trilogy, with each part to be released every few days over the coming week or so. Chapter 1 (in the Erotic Couplings category) lays the foundation for their marital strife and his foray into unfaithfulness. Chapter 2 (in the Loving Wives Category) explores her cheating heart and the object of her affection. Chapter 3 (also Loving Wives) finds an unexpected resolution.
*****
Todd Russell rolled himself slowly toward his wife. He lifted the bedsheet slightly to keep it from wrapping underneath him. The last thing he needed was a satin-spun cock blocker. Jill was already doing a good enough job of that all by herself.
Even in the dark, Todd could sense Jill stiffen as he narrowed the distance between them. As usual, she was turned away from him and wrapped in a full-length button-down nightgown. No easy access there. And she had long ago developed a bad habit of nodding off faster than a narcoleptic as soon as the lights went off. But tonight the rise and fall of her nocturnal breathing hadn't yet reached its sleep-filled syncopation.
Todd chanced a brief caress of Jill's shoulder. Her immediate flinch sent the unspoken message that he'd expected. Another sexless Saturday night was unfolding before his very eyes.
Five months had passed since their last sexual encounter of any sort, and more than two years since their days of passionate lovemaking. Was it because, five years into their marriage, the fertility clinic specialists had finally figured out that Todd was shooting blanks? Or was Jill, during the two years since, simply beginning to experience the feminine form of the seven-year itch?
Whatever the cause of their sexual rift, it had led to an emotional schism. Todd no longer assumed the best in his wife, nor tried to bring out the best in her. Mundane topics often led him to harsh words or sarcastic criticism. And Jill responded in kind. "Blessed are the peacemakers" was a phrase not practiced in the Russell household.
The thermal freeze in the bedroom was turning their other encounters frosty as well. But to be fair, which was the chicken and which was the egg? Todd didn't know, but he knew he was frustrated, angry and felt trapped in a loveless marriage. To boot, he had developed some bad habits of his own, not the least of which he was about to repeat.
Todd listened to Jill's breathing pattern. She appeared to now be off to her narcoleptic dreams. Todd watched the red LED display on the clock. It was 11:37. He waited, willing himself not to fall asleep. He listened to Jill's breathing pattern, now certain that she was asleep. He stole occasional glances at the clock until its readout reached 11:45. He lifted the covers again, but this time he rolled in the other direction.
Grabbing his jeans and the rest of his discarded clothes from beside the bed, Todd slipped stealthily into the bathroom. Without turning on the light so as not to wake Jill, he slipped out of his pajamas and into the clothes he had worn that evening. Within moments, he was behind the wheel of his bland charcoal gray 2010 Ford Fusion SE, headed down the road on a familiar journey, with AC/DC's "Highway to Hell" blaring on the radio.
* * * * * * *
"Hey there, Sport!" greeted the pretty brunette, rising from behind the counter. "What can we do for you tonight?"
Todd gulped. He'd been visiting this establishment for three months now on a roughly bi-weekly basis, and she recognized him as a regular. "The usual," he replied.
"Sure - 50 minutes, full body," she answered. "That's eighty dollars cash up front. Who'd you like to help ya?"
Todd looked down at his shoes as he reached for his wallet. "Um, I was wondering..."
"Wondering what?" she queried, a look of genuine puzzlement on her face.
"Well, uh..." He handed her four crisp twenty dollar bills from the ATM he'd visited on the way.
"Spit it out, Sport," she encouraged.
"Well, Angie..." He'd noticed her name tag each time he'd visited the establishment, and now he was making use of it in an attempt to breed familiarity. Or maybe just to breed. "I was wondering if you always just ran the front desk, or if you, uh, sometimes..." His voice trailed off in shame.
"If I sometimes - what?" A hint of a smirk now crept across her features. She had been down this road numerous times with other clients, and knew what was coming next. And, despite the fact that he was way cuter that most of the creeps who asked her to service them, she vowed internally to continue to stick to her desk job.
"Well, uh, you're by far the best-looking girl that works in this place," the man blurted nervously. "And you're always so kind and friendly to me. So I was just wondering if maybe, with special customers, you might sometimes be the one to give a massage." He appeared to be on the verge of passing out.
Whoa
, she thought,
not what I expected, even though I expected it. Why does he have to be so sweet
?
She waited a torturous thirty seconds or so before replying. "Well, I don't have the training that the other girls have..."
"I'm easy to please..." he interjected.
He really is cute
, she thought,
and he seems sweet. And he probably doesn't expect much
... "Well, if that's what you really want, I could arrange for Sophie to watch the front," she surprised herself as the words spilled out of her mouth.
"Really?" Todd's beaming smile provided her a sense of affirmation at her decision.
"Well, I've never done it before, but you could be my first. Massage, that is," she clarified.
Todd's cock began to swell inside his jeans. Thankfully, Angie was looking him in the eye rather than lower down. "Great!" he answered happily. If he'd been a puppy, he would have surely been wagging his tail. As it was, he was having trouble keeping his tongue inside his mouth.
"You go get yourself comfortable in Massage Room 2, and I'll be down there after I speak with Sophie," said Angie.
Todd knew the drill. He headed down the hallway and hung a left. After closing the door behind him, he disrobed completely, then wrapped one of the massage parlor's white terry-cloth towels around his waist. He lay face-down on the massage table, so as not to display his obvious erection under the towel.
During his three months of visits, Todd had found the company's name - "Happy Endings" - to represent genuine truth in advertising. But tonight he was hoping for more than just a hand job. He'd brought plenty of cash, as the girls always worked on tips once he plunked down the eighty bucks' entry fee at the front desk. But none of his generous tips had gotten his penis into a mouth or a vagina at "Happy Endings." The organization had its standards, and the staff members were trained to keep just barely on the right side of the law. And in this town, penetration of any sort was where the legal lines were drawn.
* * * * * * *
Todd flinched when the door opened. But it wasn't the kind of flinch that Jill had given him earlier when he touched her. It was a flinch of excitement and anticipation.
