"State your name."
"What?"
"I said ... State your name."
"Oh, my name's Debbie." I sat plainly in the plastic chairs provided feeling embarrassed and a little silly. You'd think that a facility like this could provide better seating for its clients. These were kind of like the chairs you find in a kindergarten class.
"State your full name."
"I'm not comfortable with being that open now."
I watch him closely but he betrays no emotion what so ever. This makes me so uncomfortable that I actually squirm a little bit in my seat. It's not like I couldn't just get up and walk out of there. But what would that accomplish?
"That's alright for now let's get started-Debbie."
-ONE YEAR EARLIER-
I lived in a modest little cul-de-sac just outside of the city in one of those manufactured neighborhoods that were all the rage during the eighties with my husband Richard. Richard traveled abroad a lot as a condition of his job and I was the happy little homemaker.
I even had a Dear Abbie style byline in the local paper. Yeah it was pretty much my own little slice of heaven.
I'm so happy.
Debbie sat in her small bedroom bathroom sobbing uncontrollably seated on the toilet. After a few moments she collected herself and cleaned up with a few sheets of toilet paper. She checked her reflection in the mirror making sure that her mascara hadn't started running. There were only minor adjustments to be made as her husband called to her from the other room.
"Honey, I'm gonna skip breakfast. I'm running late and I gotta hit phoenix by six tonight." The sound of a door slamming soon followed this declaration as Debbie suddenly found herself running from the bathroom desperate for attention.
She made it to the living room in time to see Richard's car speeding off into the horizon.
"He couldn't get out of here fast enough." Thought Debbie as she locked the dead bolt on the door and proceeded with her chores.
Approximately four hours earlier in the middle of the night, Richard had rolled over onto her and gave her what he called "The best six minutes of her life." She didn't mind having sex with her husband, but sometimes he was a selfish, lazy fuck (At least that's what her friend Molly had called Richard after a firsthand account of his "sexual prowess" over drinks one afternoon.).
Richard was the first and only man she had ever slept with. Debbie loved him dearly but she was dying on the inside. The most creative thing he'd ever come up with sexually, was trying to stuff his fat five inch cock into her rectum one night on their wedding anniversary. This was a thing with Richard that didn't seem to want to go away. He was somewhat of a so-called "ass man".
At the beginning of our marriage he would sometimes tell me how I had an okay looking butt that unfortunately paled in comparison to his previous girlfriend Carmen.
Carmen was a thorn in my side as I felt that I was always being compared to her by my inattentive husband from one moment to the next. She was this rather "street" type girl that Richard had hooked up with at some dumb ass frat party. She was biracial, half white and Columbian bitch with a lithe almost rail thin body offset by the cartoonish wide hips and a humongous basketball sized ass.
Earlier in our marriage I'd encouraged Richard to talk about his past sexual experiences because of some stupid advice I'd received from Molly. She would always talk about how this kept things fresh with her husband Taylor and actually spiced up their sex lives. So after one particularly "satisfying" five minute love session, I'd encouraged Richard into a candid recount of his prior encounter with Carmen.
What in the hell was I thinking?
Richard went on and on about how he had the time of his life banging the shit out of Carmen's supposedly fifty five inch jiggly ass. How doggystyle was the only way to go with an ass that great... How motion ripples flowed across the surface of her ass as he tried his best to pound the shit out of this improbable hook up.
They'd hooked up a few times and Richard being the inexperienced goof he was at that time ended up being led around by the nose until she'd revealed her actual boyfriend to be a jock on the football team.
Richard was devastated, telling me that he'd already been planning the wedding and how he was "ruined for all other women."
Then, he wanted to cuddle.
I felt like a damn fool afterwards and told Molly as much during the following day. Molly laughed her red headed ass off pissing me off even further.
I hate Carmen.
We had never met but for some reason I always felt like she was just around the corner.
Richard didn't make things easy for me in that regard. Only a week ago, I'd discovered a photo of Carmen's monsterish panty clad ass being used as a screen saver on the laptop in his home office. We fought about it for a week before he changed it to his favorite football team or something. In fact I made it a point that I was never going to do "it" doggy style with him again after that. He was pissed, but had no choice in the matter. Our love making sessions had become muted, vanilla affairs after the ban and I guess it's fair to say that we both suffered for it.
It really wasn't fair to Richard to judge him based on a proclivity he'd acquired prior to meeting me. He wasn't all that bad. We met immediately after Carmen had dumped him although I didn't know it at the time. I mistakenly assumed Richard was a shy reserved guy when I was hooked up with him by Molly of all people. She'd actually dated him once or twice, but there was no chemistry there. Richard was very gentlemanly and didn't push things with me regarding sex. I'm from a strict Christian background and sex before marriage was the ultimate taboo. So I told Richard if he was looking for a fuck buddy, he should go somewhere else.
Richard was surprisingly patient, or so I thought until I found him jerking off to that earlier described picture of Carmen's posterior. I was angry and asked him if I was his fucking "beard" or something.
[Beard-Term for a straight person who poses as the partner of a gay / alternate life style individual.]
To my surprise Richard started sobbing and confessed that he was having a hard time after breaking up with his previous girlfriend. It was probably at this moment that I fell in pitiful love with him. He explained that he had become accustomed to having sex regularly because of his prior relationship and couldn't do without.
After internally debating the situation, to my great shame I ended up jerking Richard off in the privacy of his dorm room. I remembered being fascinated at the way his short, fat cock erupted with three geyser- like blasts of cum all over my best blouse. I was a little upset and shied away from it for a week. Honestly I couldn't wait to get my hands on his short cock again. By the following Friday, I was happily tugging away on his meat and had even allowed Richard to remove my blouse. He loved my nice perky 36 C Breasts and I had to threaten to cut off his hand job privileges when he tried to pry my plain stark white brasserie off.
I had to keep him honest somehow.
But he somehow talked me into baring my breasts before the night was over and I have to admit that I loved the way his hands felt on my bare skin. He groped my tits with a boy's curiosity and eagerness almost painfully rolling my fat pink nipples before taking them into his mouth. Loved the way he hungrily suckled them while I instinctively tugged harder on his cock. Richard ended up shooting his creamy jizz all over my jeans, his love seat and the floor.
I was a good girl and cleaned up after him. It was only natural since I was responsible after all. I even had to scold Richard because he continued to sit on the love seat with his "business" in plain sight for anyone to see. He was a good enough sport about it that he waited at least two days before pestering me for release. He unfortunately seemed to be angling for more and I let him know in no uncertain terms that "No meant No" .... What kind of girl did he think I was? I let him know that I wasn't his personal whore!
Richard, good man that he is apologized and I was unnerved to see him reaching under his bed for a dirty magazine.
"What-are you doing Richard?!!" I screamed as he stared in my direction with this goofy, peevish look on his face.
He apologized for making me feel obligated to him and told me that he would "suffer" in private. He even asked me to give him five minutes in the bathroom while he "handled" his business. I foolishly called his bluff telling him that since I had already seen and handled his cock, there was no need for me to leave. He shrugged and sat on the love seat pulling his slacks to his knees. He had the audacity to even reach for some hand lotion and generously lube himself up.
"How dare you Richard!" I yelled visibly turning red at my boyfriend's outlandish behavior. In short we had a mini argument in which I somehow came to see that I was wrong for jacking him off in the first place. I offered to take him to my pastor for guidance, but he took umbrage at me saying that I was just trying to change him. Our spat continued for another five minutes before I agreed to relieve him allegedly for one final time.
What a mistake that was as Richard ultimately tricked me into another steamy exchange as I was soon relieved of my top and lacy brassiere while I feverishly worked my grinning boyfriend's cock with machine like efficiency until screaming, he shot his man goo all over my chest.
The ringing of the house phone shocked me out of my trip down memory lane as I hurried into the kitchen to pick up the uneaten breakfast left behind by Richard. The phone continued ringing unmercifully prompting me to snatch it off the hook in little more than an agitated state.