Indentured Pervitude, Ch. 01
by Rachael DMM
Wendy unloaded the dishwasher. She never used to hate doing housework before, but it had become a loathsome chore for her. It wasn't so much the fact that she had to do it, but that she had to do it alone. Tom was in the next room watching one of his stupid sportsball games. He valued his downtime, so she didn't say anything, but she had worked a full day too, yet it was still expected that she come home, do all the cooking, then deal with the cleanup afterward, while he sat on his ass and didn't lift a finger to help. But that was fine...just fine.
She had her reservations when Tom suggested they move in together. As a couple, they had their struggles, that was for sure, but it gave her a good preview of what life would be like once they were married. Wendy was eager to get to planning the wedding, but Tom kept pushing it off. She was beginning to wonder if he really intended to marry her or if he was just stringing her along. She knew she shouldn't entertain such thoughts, but it was hard not to.
She couldn't think like that, she admonished herself. When the time was right, it would happen. Besides, what choice did she have? Her best years were behind her; it wouldn't be long before she hit the big 3-0. She'd already invested too much in Tom to let things fall apart at this point. No way would she find another catch like him at this stage in her life. Her attention went to her engagement ring, as it so often did at odd moments throughout her day. Memories of the proposal and the thrill of that magical event flooded her with love and appreciation for her relationship and the man to whom she would one day be married. She couldn't help but wonder at her own good fortune.
Even when she was at her best, she could barely compete with the Barbie-perfect sorority girls who were snapping up all the eligible guys, chewing them up, and spitting them out. At 5'7" more than half the guys out there instantly disqualified her as a potential partner. That, when combined with the muscle she'd packed on as a college volleyball player, didn't do wonders for her sex appeal. Not that she wasn't sexy as hell, she told herself, just that guys tended to be intimidated by strong women like her - physically strong, that is.
She knew that was rubbish - something she had to tell herself to lessen the pain of so much rejection in her past. Wendy knew that if she just had bigger boobs everything would be so much easier for her. But then along came Tom and rescued her from a tragic fate as a spinster.
Wendy carefully put her grandmother's mixing bowl away in its special spot. Every time she touched its glazed surface, and felt the raised design painted around its circumference, it reminded her of making cookies as a little girl. Baking with Grandma was about the only girly thing she did at that age, otherwise, she was climbing trees or out catching frogs with the boys. Her life wasn't perfect, she knew, but she was content with what she had.
Tom shuffled into the kitchen, obviously upset about something. Wendy quickly grabbed him a fresh beer out of the fridge before he had to ask. She opened it for him and handed it over. He took a swig. She was struck, as always, by how handsome he was, even after all the time they'd been together he still gave her butterflies. It made the fact that he didn't even bother to thank her for the beer seem almost trivial. How had she gotten so lucky?
"What's wrong? Did your team lose?"
"They will. The new virtual sportscaster on ESPN determined that they're going to blow it in the second half of the fourth quarter. I don't even know why they bother playing the games anymore if these stupid AIs are just going to tell you how things are going to turn out."
"Yeah, but they're not always right though..."
He finished off his beer in one long go. "Sure, they're only 98 percent accurate - anything is possible," he said sarcastically and crushed the empty can.
Tom wasn't a big guy, just an inch taller than Wendy. She didn't mind that at all, except that he strictly forbade her from wearing heels. Which was just as well since they were so uncomfortable anyway. It was a small concession to make for her man (and his ego). He was devastatingly handsome; some would even go so far as to say he had movie-star looks. They would make beautiful babies together, she was convinced - mostly by her mother telling her that over and over again. And, he was in good shape, well...he wasn't fat. But he wasn't all covered in muscles or anything like that. He had a good head of thick, dark hair and she loved the feel of his body, especially when he was on top of her.
Their sex life was pretty good, she told herself as she closed the dishwasher door and looked around for anything else that needed doing in the kitchen. There were things that were lacking, but that's true in any relationship. Some people might say their romance in the bedroom was a bit boring, or maybe even stale. They would usually make love at least one or two nights a week. Sometimes, Tom would want to do it in the morning, which she was always up for. Sure, they weren't doing all kinds of weird positions or trying kinky stuff to "spice" things up, but they didn't need any of that. Tom was always horny for her, which was nice in its own way.
Missionary with Tom on top was just fine with her. It usually went rather quickly these days, which was just as well. They both worked hard, and sleep was often more welcomed than hours of wild sex. Once Tom came, and he went into the bathroom to clean up, that gave Wendy a chance to finish herself off. She always gave herself a lovely orgasm thinking about the hot sex she'd just had. The only downside was that her post-coital orgasm had to be a fingers-only affair.
Her favorite way to come was with her vibrator - one that she diligently kept tucked away in a secret hiding place. Not only would she die of embarrassment if Tom ever knew she masturbated, but he would be livid if he learned she was getting off with a toy that was bigger than he was. Not that he was small...exactly. It was just that sometimes she longed for something more...fulfilling than what he had to offer.
She never dared ask, nor would she ever suggest that they measure him, but she did look up the statistics. In the U.S. the average male was between 5.1 and 5.5 inches. She was certain he was about in that range...or at least very close to it. No matter its size, he did have a beautiful penis. Something she appreciated.
He would get so hard for her it was almost embarrassing sometimes. He was circumcised, which she liked very much. Wendy loved touching it, stroking his stiff shaft, and playing with his soft cockhead. The only problem was that he was always insisting that she suck it. She didn't mind licking it or putting her mouth on him like that, but she kind of hated giving him a full-on blowjob.
It always would end up with him just face fucking her aggressively, and that was more than unpleasant. As much as she tried to handle it, she always ended up choking on his dick. It seemed like that was the goal for him. It must make him feel like a big man or something. She had gotten to the point where she was actively trying to avoid sucking him off as much as possible these days. She felt guilty about that, but there was nothing worse than getting one of his pubes stuck in her throat. She really hated that!
The only reason she even went down on him was that she liked the taste of cum. It was an acquired taste, for sure, but somehow she had acquired it - big time. All the choking - on his dick and his pubes - was all worthwhile for that gooey treat that came at the end of it. It wasn't something she ever openly admitted to him, but she was pretty sure he'd figured it out.
What made it all so much worse, was that he never went down on her. That was the only other thing that really bothered her about their sex life. It took a while for her to bring this up with him. She kept giving him hints that she wanted him to eat her out, but he never seemed to pick up on her very clear body language. When she finally broke down one night after a few glasses of wine and asked him to lick her pussy, it brought their romantic evening to a screeching halt.
He seemed visibly sickened by the suggestion that he give her oral sex. He insisted that he didn't like the smell and that it was demeaning for a man to lower himself and put his mouth on a woman's vagina. Initially, this shocked her. She'd only had one boyfriend before Tom, and he loved going down on her - he couldn't seem to get enough.
Wendy had done a little research and discovered that it wasn't all that uncommon for some men to have this attitude. It was all tied up with notions about manliness, and being subservient to a female. One article even suggested that it had to do with a boy's relationship with his mother. That was weird, but she never did buy into all that Freudian claptrap. He had insisted that for her to ask him to do that would be like asking him to lick a public toilet seat. That pretty much ended the discussion as far as she was concerned, and she was too embarrassed to ask for it again after that.
