The cries of two people in the throes of passion served as the harmony, while the sound of wet flesh slapping against flesh provided the frantic rhythm. The musky scent of sex and sweat lingered in the air. The woman straddled her legs across the muscular man's waist, riding the large phallus. His cock glistened with her juices in the ambient lighting as it plunged deeper insider her. She leaned forward, placing her hands upon his shoulders so that she could support herself while impaling herself on the man's cock willingly. His big, strong hands held her by the hips so as to offer added support. Her large breasts swung like pendulum, which he tried to capture with his mouth.
Breathlessly, the woman cried out, "My god, I never knew sex could be like this!" She whimpered out a moan of pleasure, "I've wasted twenty years of my life! Your cock is so big!" Her voice went up an octave with that last word. Her fingers dug into the man's shoulders as her body trembled and quivered, experiencing an orgasm -- maybe for the first time or at least, the first time this night. Given that neither one showed any signs of hesitation or slowing down, it was very possible that this was a first of many things to come.
"Your pussy is so tight. It's like you're a virgin! Are you sure you had sex before meeting me?" retorted the man while thrusting upward with his cock.
The added thrusting caused her eyes to roll back into her head, making it quite different for her to form any coherent thought. She simply answered the question with a guttural groan of ecstasy.
*****
His cry broke the silence of the dark, lonely room. The white cotton sheet, soaked with sweat, clung to his body as he jerked himself awake. The nightmares have gotten worse. His insecurities have been wrecking havoc on his memories, altering the witnessed event with visions and dialogue fueling his self-doubts and bruised male ego. Covering his eyes with his hands, Steve tried to catch his breath and regain a sense of his surroundings. As reality set in, the hope of his wife's infidelity being a horrible nightmare faded away, no matter how hard he tried to gouge out his eyes.
Why?
The first of many questions flooded his thoughts as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
Was I not man enough for her? Did I not satisfy her in bed? Did she need the attention of another man, a better man? Why would she throw away twenty years of marriage for a fling? Did she no longer love me? Has she fallen in love with someone else? Was it something that I did? Was it something that I said? Was it just one very bad thing, or a culmination of many little things? What did I do that was so wrong that it would make her rush into the arms of another man?
Unfortunately for Steve, the quiet of the hotel room did not provide any answers and offered very little solace.
The relentless buzzing of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts. He swore he turned the damned thing off; however, he must have set it for vibrate.
Another thing that I can't do right,
he told himself while fighting back feelings of dread. He was not ready to talk to her. The problem with asking questions was that there were going to be answers. He was not sure if he was ready to hear those answers. Dread consumed him as his heart sank into his stomach. At that moment, he regretted eating Mexican for dinner as his stomach churned. With trepidation, Steve rolled out of bed to spy the caller ID on his phone. The lesser of two evils reared its ugly head as the phone number for the hospital, where worked was displayed.
"It's 3 o'clock in the morning. The sky better be falling," answered Steve without any regard to who was on the other end.
"Hey bud, I'm sorry to be waking you up this early in the morning, but the central switch crashed. The entire hospital is down, and the ER has a head trauma patient getting a cat scan. With the switch down, we can't send images across the Internet," explained Eric, one of Steve's sub-ordinates.
Steve immediately shot out of bed in an effort to get dressed quickly as he responded, "All right. The PACS system is on its own segmented network. Go ahead and route the firewall to the PACS router, bypassing the central switch. This should allow the rad tech to send the images to our night radiology group. The rest of the hospital will have to go to paper until we can get the switch back up and going. Tell the night supervisor that I'll be there in about ten minutes."
"Good call! I didn't even think of that," Eric replied with a sound of relief.
Unfortunately for Steve, life did not stop for a broken heart. He was needed at the hospital regardless of his state of mind.
*****
Steve was born and raised in a Catholic family. His parents insisted on him going to a private school for his education. Unfortunately, in rural America, the class sizes for a private Catholic school were relatively small. Even worse, the same students were in the same classes together unless someone flunked a grade or moved away. This meant that a social faux pas would brand a kid for life, or at least twelve years of primary and secondary education. For Steve, he was labeled as a nerd early on. There could be several different reasons for how Steve got branded as this social pariah. It could be the fact that math came easy to him, and he did not have to try very hard in school at all. Or it could be the fact that unlike most of the students, he did not belong to a rich family. His clothes were common and certainly not name brand.
Or, it could have been when he had a horrible crush on the most popular girl in school. In an attempt to win her affection, Steve wrote a love poem. It was from the heart, but having never read Cyrano de Bergerac in grade school, his words fell short. The poem was passed around his entire class so that they could share in his humiliation. He became the laughing stock of his fifth grade class. Needless to say, his confidence in approaching girls was shattered. Having to endure the same group of students for the next seven years, Steve accepted his role as a nerd and a social outcast. He delved into this new technology called computers, learning all he could. One of the first things he learned was that a mistake could be easily fixed or corrected, unlike matters of the heart and social interaction with girls.
Obviously, Steve looked forward to graduating high school and moving on to college. A new set of friends and the ability to escape twelve years of Hell was just the tip of the iceberg. Having graduated with honors, Steve intended to go to the best college for computer science. He would get his degree and then find employment with a huge software company.
That was until life decided to step in. While on a retreat for high school seniors held by his church, Steve met Jill. The awkward and socially inept boy and the gangly and homely girl fumbled their way through their first date. For Steve, the fact that any girl showed an interest in him was exciting and made his heart race. For Jill, it was the first time that a boy didn't try to feel her up or compare her to the popular girls in school. More importantly, they both enjoyed the other person's personality. They found it easy to communicate on a personal level. It wasn't long before the two fell in love.
And it wasn't too much longer after that, that the two awkward teenagers fumbled their way through making love. Although they were Catholic, society placed too much pressure on them to not remain celibate. Raging hormones also played a major role in their attempt to express their undying love for one another. Unfortunately, their desire to pick and choose which laws or commandments that they wanted to follow did not supersede the laws of nature. Jill became pregnant a few short months after their retreat.
For whatever reason, adhering to their Catholic upbringing was paramount this time around. Rather than abort the child, the two decided to become a family. Steve's plans for going on to college were dashed into smithereens from the wink of a pretty girl's eye. Instead, he opted to work at an electronics store, serving as one of their computer technicians. In his spare time, he attended classes at the local community college with the hopes of obtaining an Associate's degree in computer information systems. Steve accepted his new role of being a provider for his family and his fate without hesitation or putting up a fight. It was expected of him to take accountability for his actions. His dreams, his ambitions, and his goals fell to the wayside, so that he could be a husband and a father.
*****
The music blaring from the worn out speakers competed with the growling hum of the car's engine that was pushing two hundred thousand miles. Typically, Steve kept the volume up to drown out the fact that he was driving a used car that was in dire need of a tune up and a new muffler; however, it was decided long ago that Jill would get the better car because of family priorities. The beat up car served its purpose well of getting from Point A to Point B with as little fuel consumption as possible. For Steve, the car was like an old tee shirt that has a paint stain here or a bleach stain there, but it fit just right. There was comfort to be found in the car. Steve knew the limitations of the car, and never pushed the car beyond those limits. The driver's seat or the mirrors never had to be adjusted. Everything was where it was supposed to be.
The radio gods had other plans. Regardless of what station, the night deejay opted to play love songs. The only relief from the love songs was the commercials; however, they catered to lonely singles looking for an exciting adventure and suggested that they stay in tonight and call their party line. It was as if the sultry feminine voice taunted and tormented Steve. In frustration, Steve slammed the power button of the radio so that he could rid himself of the agony. Steve was outnumbered, though. In the silence of his car, his thoughts resumed full force.
Why didn't you do something?
Steve berated himself.
You just stood there and watched that man run his hands all over your wife's naked body! You're a wimp! You're a wuss! You could have done something, but no! You simply walked away. You didn't even put up a fight!
Steve always shied away from confrontation. He was not some covert operations specialist, or an Army Ranger. He certainly was not an ultimate fighter champion, though in his younger years, he may have played one or two in video games. Steve was an inch or two over six feet tall and weighed over two hundred and thirty pounds. Most of that weight, circling around his waistline, was acquired from years of sticking to his fast food diet. Hitting the gym was not in Steve's vocabulary. The most strenuous thing that Steve participated in was golf, if you call hitting the ball into the wrong fairway as playing golf.
Steve rebutted his own thoughts.
