"Oh my God, for the millionth time, stop it."
Mary had just finished her shower, towel like a turban wrapped around her dripping wet hair and nothing but her loosely hanging robe over her body. As she stepped from the master bath into their bedroom suite, Mary saw her husband gazing out their second story bedroom window.
Brian quickly pulled back away from the window with a sudden flinch, for the millionth time.
"You are looking at her again, aren't you?" Mary's tone was scolding him. Years back, not long after the new neighbors had moved in, Brian had stumbled upon this voyeur's perch. He had been careful to only sneak those views without Mary knowing. Time eroded his carefulness but did not wither his desires to see the neighbors wife and college daughter out by their pool or even better, at nights, in their jacuzzi.
But tonight, something snapped in Brian. The previous million minus one times Mary had rebuked him with that "stop it," he had pulled back apologetically. But tonight, there was no apology coming. No, there was an eruption about to explode on the scene; the expression of long suppressed resentments not uncommon after ten years of marriage.
Sex had become stale. Mary was still hot as ever, but career and kids had pushed wild fuck sessions to the back burner, reserved only for anniversary trips and the such. Brian hated it. Every guy on the block stared at her ass and tits as she jogged by their homes on her daily jog; some women undoubtedly as well.
The cruel irony just had no place to go in that flash of a moment. Instead of the customary apology that had become the routine response, Brian paused. Then spoke.
"I will not stop it." His voice was subdued, yet firm.
"Excuse me?" Mary was stunned. It was admission of guilt time.
"You heard me." Brian took a step away from the window. The way he looked up and down at Mary in that moment signaled something that was completely out of place in her opinion.
"Seriously?" she quipped back. Hands on her hips. Towel around her head. Suddenly feeling self-conscious about the way her robe hung, parted open down the middle as she had not bothered to tie the belt.
Brian starred Mary down. He took a small step towards her. "No. I will not stop it."
"Brian, what is wrong with you. It is wrong. You know it."
Brian's eyes were slowly turning cold as he took another step towards the woman who had frustrated him sexually for years. "Do I? Do I know that, Mary?" The way he said that word
knooowww
was almost frightening.
Mary cinched up the belt on her robe, She suddenly was being more modest than necessary in her own bedroom. "Brian, what is wrong with you?"
He took another step closer to her. "What is wrong with me?" He paused, then before she could respond, "What is wrong with ME?" His voice was now cool and calculated.
Mary felt as if he was now invading her space. Her own husband. "Brian, you know what I mean." At this point, Mary still truly believed that this was nothing more than a moment of stubborn willfulness on Brian's part that would fade into an apology. Case closed. To her credit, how could she have known?
How could Mary have known that this was the straw that broke the camel's back?
Brian was standing directly in front of her now. His 6-5 frame towering over her 5-9 frame, otherwise impressively tall on her own part. He looked down and with a near whisper said, "Do I, Mary? Do I know what you mean?"
His tone. His physical intimidation. That icy look in his eyes. Mary was feeing increasingly off balance. She mustered up what almost sounded like a whimper as she nodded and said, "Y-yes... of cour - course you do."
Brian side stepped her, and while at her side whispered in her ear, "Do I, Mary?" He was sober. He had clarity better than ever. He paused. She stood silent. He moved behind her.
In a move that caught her completely off guard, he firmly grabbed her wrist and twisted it behind her back. "Brian, stop it! That hurts."
