Just a quick flash tale that I actually finished. I have a disease. I get these great story ideas, write about half of the story in a fury and then can't seem to finish them. I am working on them and hope to release them sometime soon, bear with me. ;)
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this short vignette as much as I did while I was composing it. Remember, in the end it's just fiction. No wives were actually harmed in the making of this story. My wife punched me though, she went to Texas A&M, poor woman.
****************
My marriage is on life support and I am wondering if it's time to remove the feeding tube. I have a spouse that plans on cheating on me at some point, has even threatened me with it, and I have spent the last year on tenterhooks wondering when the deed will happen.
Of course, everyone says, "Just file for divorce, it's mental cruelty!" or "You are being a wimp and a crybaby, just leave!" But I love my partner. I've went through hell to be with him and I don't want to be a failed statistic at the youngish age of thirty five. I also still want to have more children with this person, so you see my dilemma.
We first met in college. We both attended Texas A&M University, Gig 'Em Aggies, in the early 2000's. We were both studying to be Veterinarians, a program that A&M is renowned for. I do pets, my spouse did livestock.
He decided after a couple of years that his true calling was long-haul trucking and quit being a vet. He delivers pork chops on an express route to San Francisco. The man is a machine, he makes the run in under 24 hours every time. He once told me, "Honey, I never drive faster than I can see. Besides that, it's all in the reflexes."
Even after his career change, which I fought against and lost, We certainly aren't hurting for money. Anyway, as I said, we met at A&M in Bryan, Texas (aka College Station). I had been rather sexually active, but I had cooled it for the last few months while I looked towards my future.
I had scouted out a couple of likely candidates, both around 5'10' with swimmer's bodies and, what I could tell through their jeans, reasonably well equipped; especially in the ass. I'm an ass person, there is just something about a nice muscular ass to grab onto while a cock is thrusting into you. But, I digress, I ended up picking Jack and set about the conquest.
Like I said, I was not a virgin, but it's easy to fool people about virginity. You just act clumsy and for girls you lie and claim it hurts because the penis tore your hymen. Nobody checks for blood anymore, this isn't the middle ages. Besides, pro-tip for girls, smear some red lipstick on a tissue and then wipe up the fluids after sex. Instant hymen blood, or start of your period blood. Trust me, guys are so phobic about blood near a pussy they aren't going to investigate deeply into the subject.
As far as the hymen goes, it's a bunch of bullshit anyway. I'm a vet, but I'm still a doctor. The hymen is just a crescent shaped piece of skin at the bottom portion of the vaginal opening in about 80 percent of females. There are some unfortunate souls that have hymens that are abnormal and actually partially or fully block the vaginal opening, but it's rare and those usually break due to active lifestyles or because of medical intervention to allow menstruation to function.
If a woman has a normal hymen, it's entirely possible for it to stretch with use and not tear. It gets torn when you have a 'plus-size' partner, the female is not lubricated properly, or the sex is particularly vigorous. So all of those stories you hear about guys getting partially into a vagina and then feeling the hymen blockage are basically urban legend. Or they just simply didn't prepare their partner enough and they actually put a micro tear in the lining near the tightened muscle.
Jack certainly didn't pick up on it, so my ruse was successful to a point. The failure was in the fact that while the pill was being used, it was accidentally contravened by antibiotics due to a sinus infection. So just after I got my diploma, my water broke and we had to go to the delivery room.
Yeah, if you didn't pick up on it, I'm Mrs. Burton now; or at least I still am for the moment, depending on where we go from here. My name is Gracie. Our daughter's name is Margaret, although she prefers Margo. She is most definitely her daddy's girl, we don't get along well. I think it is because we both are schemers.
All throughout our marriage, I have been occasionally unfaithful. I simply can't help it, I have a sex addiction and Jack is not up to my level in the bedroom. I didn't marry him for that anyway. I married him because he was easy to control and because he was going to be a good earner.
Maybe that sounds cold to you, but then you probably live in a trailer and drive a Ford. I drive a Mercedes S series and live in a fucking mansion. If you chose to settle or didn't prepare for the future, don't judge me.
Jack has never cheated on me; he used to be like an adorable puppy that followed me around. I taught him everything in the bedroom, thankfully he bought my claim that I learned it all from the internet. I say that he isn't up to my level in bed, but he is damn close now thanks to my training.
Of course, since that fateful day a year ago, he has also been willing to throw some plain old hardcore fucking my way, which might be why I am so sad at our possible dissolution.
You see, everyone gets caught at some point. In my case, while I was out getting fucked by a hung Dominican national on a student visa, my daughter was fucking me behind my back.
The little bitch skipped school and filmed my fuck session in high definition on the camera phone I bought her! God, I should have had her fucking aborted, but she did lock Jack to me while we were younger and in doubt. Decisions, decisions, hindsight is never helpful when you need it.
When I got home that day, I saw her smirk at me and run upstairs. It was then that I walked into the living room...and straight into a nightmare.
