Humble Pie For Thanksgiving

It was only after most of the work was done and I sat a moment to catch my breath that it began. At first, it was just a fleeting thought planted as a seed deep in my belly but it rapidly grew to a knot of pain and angst. Surely, Stella would come home on time today, a day for family celebration. She knew that Thanksgiving was a special day for me although I was sure she had no idea how hard I worked to make everything perfect. The only thing unusual about her not coming home last night was that she called and assured me she would be home in time for our holiday meal. I know I have no rights to make demands on her and that I have to accept that she does whatever she wishes with no regard to how it affects me. It is always that double barrel blast of worry, first is she all right, unhurt but just having too good a time to come home? The second is the troubling thoughts that haunt me, what if she finds someone she loves more than me.

It wasn't like that when we first married, I mean she was always in charge but at first, she cared about my wishes as well as hers. Of course, I was so much in love that I always acquiesced to anything she suggested. Even now, I still can't believe that Stella chose me to be her husband and I'll always thank my lucky stars for the day we met. When she came into father's store, I was so tongued tied by her grace and beauty I just stared at her. When she asked me how such a shy boy could work in sales I somehow told her that my father owned the store and she smiled as she said that she liked a boy who could follow in his father's footsteps. She picked out a couple of nice pieces and in a rash show of bravado; I offered her the employee's discount.

"Surely, the boss's son could offer a lady a better deal than an employee could get. I'll just let you decide what price I should pay and we will settle up when you deliver them to my home."

She gave me her address and promptly walked out, leaving me standing there with her jewelry in hand and an erection in my trousers. I knew that father would be upset with me if I discounted the pieces any further so doing the only thing I could I purchased them myself.

That evening as I knocked on her door I could feel my knees knocking as well. I had no idea what to expect but I knew just to be able to look into those dark beautiful eyes would be worth the price of her jewelry. She opened the door in a dressing gown that although not revealing exuded raw sexual desire that I could feel deep inside me. Once again struck by her beauty I stood there mute with her purchases in my hand. I could only nod when she asked if they were for her as she took them from me. The stones seemed to sparkle in her eyes as she looked at them, then she looked at me as she asked me how much I had planned to charge her. It was only after I somehow managed to say that they were a gift from me did she invite me in, the rest, as they like to say was history.

Much to father's dismay we were married within a year and my wedding night was the highlight of my life. The anticipation was building in me as I watched her undress, then being gently laid down on our honeymoon bed. I feared I might swoon as Stella got on top of me, she held my turgid manhood first putting a condom on and then slipping it inside her with ease. I knew I was supposed to hold back but I couldn't and I erupted inside the condom immediately. Stella told me not to worry and that she would show me what to do to please her. She climbed up on my chest and then settled down on my face and instructed to lick her with my tongue.

When father passed soon after that, Stella suggested I sell the business so I could spend more time with her. I felt that nothing in the world could be better than spending more hours with my Goddess Queen and I did as she suggested. As I think back, it was not long after escrow closed and the funds deposited in our joint account that she began to find fault with me, particularly in our bedroom. When we wed, I was a virgin and unskilled in the ways of pleasing a woman. At first, Stella was patient with me as she showed me what she expected from a man to satisfy her. Then one day she told me that I was not man enough to fulfill her needs and as I broke down crying, she informed me that I would now only be allowed to satisfy her orally. Humiliated and abashed I agreed to anything she asked as long as I could be near her. The consequences of my inadequacies soon came home to roost as she began to seek other men to scratch that itch deep within her womb.

How could I be upset she scolded, did I expect her to go without, just because I couldn't perform. How could I do anything but agree with her and as my humiliation grew I accepted my lot in life. I stayed home and became, as she called me, her little house husband, while she went out and enjoyed herself. When I complained about all the money she was spending, she took my name off our joint account and all I got was an allowance for the household expenses.

I now feel she is losing respect for me and that is one of the reasons I wanted to make this Thanksgiving meal special. I just felt that if she could appreciate me for something I could do well it would make everything all right again. Yet here I sit with the bird drying out, the yams overcooked and my homemade bread growing old and stale. As my tears flow down my face I hear the front door open and it makes my heart leap.

"Stella is that you, it is a little late but I think I can salvage some dinner for us..."

"What, dinner, I don't want any dinner I want a drink, get me some scotch."

"Stella, its Thanksgiving we need to sit down and eat I worked all day to make you a special dinner."

I could tell she'd already had too many scotches but I did as she requested and poured her some in a glass.

"Now that's my sweetie, OK let's go see what you made for me."

She sat at the table and waited for me to serve her but everything had sat for so long that it was ruined. I saw the look of contempt on her face as she tried a bite of turkey. It upset me, here I had slaved all day, and because she was late, the meal was no good. I couldn't help myself and I lashed out at her,

"It's all your fault; if you had come home when you said you were everything would have been delicious."

"Look you little panty waist bitch you're already useless to me in the bedroom so if you can't learn how to fix me something decent to eat I might as well toss you out into the street."

Even if it was just the whiskey speaking, it frightened me to hear her talk like this. I hurried to the kitchen and put a steak on the grill and I fixed a salad the way she liked it. When I served it to her, she said she wanted me to eat with her but I told her we just had the one steak.

"That's all right I brought you home something," and she lifted her dress exposing her panties as she pointed to the floor. On my knees I put my face to the gusset of her panties and noticed how wet they were. She grabbed my head forcing it into her silk covered crotch. It is so difficult for me to please her through her panties so I moved them to the side just in time to see what could only be a drop of sperm oozing from her womb. Forced to clean up another man's issue from your wife is bad enough but what really bothered me was that I was never allowed to ejaculate inside her and always had to wear a condom. I pulled back from my ministrations, I asked her why her lover had not worn a condom, and her answer was simply that he didn't feel like it.

She pressed my face back into her, and then put her dress down covering my head and in the enclosed darkness; I could not only taste her lover I could smell his foul discharge. She began a routine that I was quite used to; as she relaxed eating her steak, she would lazily run her hands through my hair as I remained under her dress. Then when she would begin to fell a climax coming on she would grab my head and hold it in place until her orgasm receded then after calling me a good boy she would start anew. She repeated this process three times and then sated she pushed me away. Still on the floor, I asked for her soiled panties so that I could wash them before a stain set in. She stood silently allowing me to reach under her dress to pull down the soiled garment, and then she turned and went to bed without saying a word.

After hand rinsing her filthy underwear and placing them over the shower to dry, I went to the kitchen to clean the mess left from dinner. I began to think on the meaning of Thanksgiving and what if anything I could give thanks for on a day that turned out so bleak. I thought of the day and while I worked so hard to give my wife a special dinner, her lover had been mounting her like a common farm animal. Then to be made to clean not only his filthy issue from her vagina but also to wash out his ilk from her clothes and all this while I maintained a throbbing erection that she never considered relieving. Still with all that said I could still find something to give thanks for and that was my wife went to bed satisfied. If I wasn't able to be man enough to satisfy her, I had no right to be upset that she had to find that pleasure outside out our marriage bed. So, as I scrubbed the last pan I did give thanks and included the hope that your Thanksgiving is at least as successful as mine.