"Kyle, do you still love me?, I asked, looking across the table at my husband of sixteen years.
"Of course, I love you, Sweetheart. What brought that question up?"
I asked, "Why, Kyle. Tell me why you love me. What is it about me you love? Yeah, I know you love my face and my body but what is it about me that you love and made you want me to be your life partner? I'm thirty-six years old. I'm not over the hill although it won't be that many years from now that my boobs and butt will start getting closer to the floor. There will be a time when I won't be the woman you married physically any more. Are you still going to love me?"
I watched my husband's face as I had just put him in an uncomfortable position with questions that required him to think deeper rather than give superficial responses. Something he's not used too. I know his male brain is scrambling to find an answer to my question that sounds plausible and lead me away from this conversation.
"Donna, you know I love everything about you. Your honesty, faithfulness, character and yes, your physical traits also."
"Well, Kyle, you could have fooled me. In the last three years, we've made love maybe once or twice a month. Your kisses are grandma pecks on the lips or cheek at best, as you're walking out the door. We are basically housemates with an occasional sex benefit. Did you turn gay or something. Do you have a little fluff on the side satisfying your needs, Kyle?"
"Oh, God, Honey, NO! I've never been unfaithful to you. It's just...just...I don't know. I'm forty years old, Donna, I don't have the same sex drive I did at twenty-five."
"Kyle, I love you but I need to feel loved too and I don't. The times we make love...no, I should say have sex, I get the feeling that you're just going through the motions. Get on, get off and get off, if you know what I mean. There's no affection, no romance, you put it in, leave a mess inside me and maybe, once in awhile, I have an orgasm usually with my own fingers doing the work afterwards. That's not making love, Kyle."
"Donna, I'm so sorry. I was not aware you felt that way. I'll try to do better, Honey."
He got up, picked up his coat and started for the door.
I said, "That's all you've got to say? You'll do better? What's that mean? How are you going to do better? Kyle, your wife just told you she's not happy and all you have to say is you'll do better?"
He gave me a peck on the cheek and walked out the door. I heard his truck roar down the street headed to work.
The tears rolled down my cheeks as I knew I wanted more than this. I deserved more than this. I kept thinking about Kyle's non responses as I got ready for work.
We have no children which has been another sticking point in our relationship. He's too set in his ways and doesn't want the responsibility of raising a child. It interferes with his own selfish interests. I so want a child. I'm just not sure I want it to be with Kyle any longer. I know Divorce is a messy, sad business. Is that what I want?
We went on like this for a couple of weeks. He seemed to be avoiding any type of interaction in response to our short one sided conversation when we were home together. He looked for any excuse to leave the house and me alone.
I'm a buyer for a large ladies fashion chain and travel occasionally for the job. Usually never more than a couple of days. Like the faithful working wife I am, I return home to my husband who treats me like a wall flower until he needs the monthly cum clot cleaned out.
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On this particular day, a man I would describe as handsome, came into my office and stated he was also a buyer and had seen me at the last style show. He was in the area and wanted to look at our firm as a possible job change and see if we were looking for another buyer.
As he entered my office, he said, "Hello, I'm Alex Roberts. We met briefly at the last show. You said I should stop by and tour your office since I was looking at a change."
I said, "Yes, Alex, I remember you. I'm Donna Dixon."
"Well, Miss Dixon, I wondered if I might treat a beautiful young lady to lunch."
I said, "Mr. Robert's, it's Mrs. Dixon with the emphasis on Mrs. and as long as you have business in mind, I see no problem with that. There's a nice little diner right down the street."
Actually, Donna, if I may call you by your first name, I was thinking more along the lines of The Red House. It's more upscale and besides it's my treat."
I asked him for his business card and introduced him to my Admin as a new employee prospect. I gave Janet his card and told her where we would be. I really didn't know this man but he seemed nice enough and a colleague but I decided I'd rather be safe than sorry.
He opened the car door for me as we arrived at the restaurant and lightly put his arm around my waist as we entered. I didn't say anything as I was kind of enjoying the flirty attention. The restaurant was nice as I had been there before. There was an elegant service on the table with laundered table cloths that almost reached the floor as with most high end restaurants. It was early lunch time with only a few patrons yet. We were alone in an adjoining dining room. Quiet and cosy.
"Well, Alex, tell me about yourself. Married? Kids? How do you like working for LZ Inc.?"
He said, "Married? Long story so please let me leave it at that. No kids. LZ is ok. I wish the pay and benefits were better but I've been there twelve years. It's just time for a change."
He looked at my rings and said, "You're married, I see. Any kids?"
"No...No kids. Just me, my husband and the dog. I've been working for Jameson's for twelve years also. I've been there top buyer for the last several years.
Changing the subject, I said, "I hope you don't mind if I slip my heels off. My feet are killing me. I feel like I've walked five miles in these heels already this morning. With these long table cloths, I don't think anyone can see me."
We ordered drinks and he said, "I give a pretty good foot massage. Put your foot in my lap and I'll see if I can make it feel better."
I reluctantly picked up my stocking clad foot placed it on his thigh. I had just gotten a mani/pedi so my nails were sculpted and a pretty shade of red. I felt his fingers and thumbs begin massaging my arches working their way to my toes. He kneaded the under side of each toe toying with the toe ring on my second toe. He occasionally took a sip of his drink then went back to work on my feet.
He said, "I have a confession to make. Donna, I have a bit of a foot fetish. I love a woman in sexy hosiery and shoes. Kudos to your pedicurist. You are beautiful."
I said, "Well, I guess that lends some credence to your fashion buying skills. I occasionally like to wear a suspender belt and stockings when I'm in the mood. Makes me feel naughty at times."
This talk brought the thoughts of all the times I had worn stockings, garter belts, sexy sandals and other lingerie for Kyle that went totally unnoticed. Alex's foot fetish and his hands on my toes caused some dampness in the crotch of my panties. I was enjoying his attention a little too much. I'm aroused and my married resolve was taking a hit and I knew it.
I said, "Thank you, Alex." I brought my foot back to the floor and began feeling for my shoe under the table but couldn't find it. Apparently, it had gotten pushed away from me.
Alex said, "Let me get it for you."
He got under the table to retrieve it from its hiding place. I once again felt his hand on my foot and then I felt his lips lightly kissing my toes. I gasped as I felt his warm breath on my toes and his tongue wet the nylon of my stocking.
I whispered, "Oh My God, Alex. What are you doing?"
He slipped my shoe on my foot and sat back down at the table.
