When Marriage Cools: Andrea

Again, I've tried to make this story realistic but there are a few scenes that are a bit of a stretch...

*****

Andrea and I had been married two years, not great years either, at least, not sexually. After a very brief courtship, we decided we were meant for each other and tied the knot. It was a decision we would both soon regret.

At age 25, 5'7", 130 pounds, auburn hair, emerald eyes, Andrea was beyond beautiful, with a body any woman would die for, and every man lusted after. In public, she was always affable and outgoing. She would cling to me and profess her love for me in front of her friends.

But in private, it was very different. She assumed a dominant role and even dictated when and how we were to make love. The 'when' was very infrequent, the 'how' was always with her on top. God forbid she would allow anything more adventurous. Yes, she was a prude.

In retrospect, it was partly my fault. Even though neither of us were virgins, she wanted to save our first copulation for our wedding night as a special gift to me...

Our wedding night didn't go well. My cock seemed too big for her and even though I did manage a shallow penetration, she was in a lot of pain. After that, she seemed afraid of me. When it came time to make love, her kisses and hugs were brief and sometimes I could feel her tremble. At 6'2" and 210 pounds, maybe I WAS intimidating. This wasn't fair to her, so I decided to cut her some slack, to see if she could find her 'comfort zone'.

Well, it didn't work, the more I gave, the more she took. She erected a wall between us and hid behind it with her shrewish behavior. She never ran out of things for me to do. Occasionally she would reluctantly give me her pussy as a reward for being a 'good boy'. She rode on top but only let me penetrate her a few inches. She didn't enjoy it and neither did I.

At first, I didn't worry about it. I'd heard of other couples with similar problems and they had always managed to overcome them. But after two years of what was essentially a sexless marriage, I was more than a little frustrated.

Our relationship was unbelievable. I truly loved this woman but after many lovemaking attempts, I was still no closer to bringing us together... One evening we were cuddling on the sofa, watching our favorite TV program.

"Andrea, I do love you, please tell me what I'm doing wrong? This isn't the way a loving couple should behave with one another."

"I love you too, Rand, very much, but it seems you only want to use me as your fuck toy."

I laughed, "You can't be serious, we only try to make love a few of times a month."

"Make love? You just want to fuck me, to dump your dirty cum inside me. You would do it every night if I let you."

"Yes, I guess that's true, but if my cum bothers you, I could wear a condom."

"It's not only that, I don't feel comfortable making love to you, it always hurts. Please give me more time, I know things will work out."

"And pigs will fly," I said angrily, "How much more time, another two years, ten years? We need to start working on this now... Why don't you let me perform oral sex on you, I know I can make you more responsive. Believe me, you'll enjoy it."

"What? Then you'll want me to do oral sex on you too. Only whores suck cock and I'm not a whore."

"Andrea, I would never ask you to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable."

"I'm uncomfortable having sex with you," she countered.

...It was the classic circular argument...

"Please, Andrea, I think we need some help. Can we see a marriage counselor, or maybe a sex therapist?" I pleaded.

"No, I know what I'm doing, and I know the difference between right and wrong. If you truly love me, just back off and give me more time."

There was no way of penetrating that wall. Even though we got along reasonably well, whenever the subject of sex came up, she shied away from me. I spent less time at home, plunging myself into my work and spending more time at the gym.

While she continued her gym workouts, she retaliated by spending more time with her girlfriends, 'girls night out' and all that shit. She seemed to be drinking more and coming home later. I suppose it was her way of avoiding me at bedtime. I knew she wasn't a virgin before we were married and was now afraid she might experiment with another man.

I refused to believe I was too big for her. Before I was married, other women had taken my cock and come back for more. My mindset was that if a woman could stretch enough to have a baby, she should have no problem taking a larger cock. I felt that if I could just once give her a good porking, she would come around... bad thinking.

-

One night after a few drinks at a local watering hole, I came home frustrated as usual. She had just stepped out of the shower and after listening to her umpteenth excuse for not having sex, I did it... I raped her. I took her doggy style and fucked her long and hard. She howled and cried, pleading with me to stop, but I didn't, ramming into her until I deposited my load.

Sobbing, she fell forward, her face buried in the bedsheets, "You've treated me like a whore, not your wife. I'll make you pay for this, you bastard."

"Andrea, for once in our married life, you've felt what it's like to make intense love. You can't tell me you didn't start to enjoy it."

"That wasn't making love, that was brutal fucking."

"Alright, shouldn't married people be allowed to fuck?"

She stood up, my cum rolling down the inside of her thighs. There was a little blood too.

"You've raped me. You hurt me so much I can hardly stand, I'm bruised and bleeding. I'll get my revenge on you... you horse cock..."

"Please Andrea, for once try to look at this from my point of view. You can't imagine how frustrated I am."

"Fuck you, asshole, and if you ever do anything like that again, I'm out the door."

-

I knew I was in deep doo doo. She didn't come home for dinner for the next two nights in a row. When I asked her about it, she said she had dinner with friends. The next night, she informed me she was going out for dinner with her sister. I wondered how many of the town had heard of her inconsiderate husband.

On the fourth night, she staggered in around ten, half drunk, carrying a bag with a couple of bottles of whisky. She opened one and poured herself a shot.

"Andrea, you shouldn't be driving in that condition."

"Shut up, you lost your right to tell me what to do," she opened her shoulder bag and pulled out a box of condoms.

"Here," she snarled, throwing the condoms at me, "Let's go fuck."

"Honey, for chrissakes..."

"That's what you want, isn't it?" she slurred, "To stick that horse cock into me... you're always complaining you don't get enough so now I'm offering all the cunt you want."

She was in bed under the covers, staring blankly at the ceiling. I dropped the box of condoms on the night table and undressed, then got into bed and spooned her. There was no way we could make love in her condition.

"I love you, Andrea, I really do," I whispered in her ear.

She started to cry, huge wrenching sobs into her pillow as I held her naked body. Eventually we both fell asleep.

In the morning, I awoke with her head on my chest. I couldn't resist, I ran my fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head. She stirred.

"G'morning," she rasped, "Guess you didn't get it last night after all," she reached under the covers and began stroking my morning woodie.

"I'm gonna make a mess," I warned.

"We can prevent that," she reached into the box of condoms and rolled one on me. It was one of those lubricated types so she resumed stroking. It wasn't long before my body stiffened and I shot. She laughed and unrolled it, then tied a knot in it and ran for the bathroom. I heard the toilet flush.

She wore a dour face during breakfast. I wasn't sure if it was a hangover or whether she was still angry; maybe both.

She was late again that evening, claiming to have stopped off at a bar with some friends from work. Before bedtime, she kissed me and along with the whisky, I thought I could smell semen on her breath. My stomach lurched, trying not to heave my dinner.

"Andrea, have you taken a lover?"

"Don't be silly, honey," she laughed mirthlessly.

"You have semen in your mouth."

"How would you know what semen tastes like? It must be something I had for dinner... Or else," she laughed, "It's those semen flavored cocktails. They're the rage among all the cocksuckers nowadays."

She came to bed naked, feigning desire to make love, again in the on-top position. She again insisted I wear a condom, knowing I hated it. She was very tight and only let me have a few shallow strokes, then rolled off. She used her hand to jerk me off into the condom, then tied a knot in it and took it to the washroom and flushed it down the toilet.

"Is this your perverse idea of making love?"

"Get used to it, honey, that's the way it's going to be for the foreseeable future."

"Andrea, this is sick."

"Actually" she cuddled into me, "I like wanking you, I love the feel of your big cock throbbing in my hand, of watching you trying to punch a hole in your condom with your ejaculate. It's quite erotic, you know."

It's strange how one can rationalize the behavior of the woman you love. She told me she wasn't having sex with anyone else and I believed her... more than anything, I wanted to believe her. It had to be my mistake, she couldn't have semen in her mouth. She was such a prude, she would never allow a man's cock near her face. It had to be something she ate or drank.

After that night, she insisted on making love every night, but the scenario was always the same. She would ride on top for a short while and again jerk me off into a condom. But there was a small upside, she seemed to take a little more depth each time and linger for a few more strokes. Maybe if I were patient enough, I would eventually achieve full penetration.

At first, I enjoyed the extra attention, but after awhile, that kind of sex left me feeling empty. Our relationship waned, she became more distant, less conversant. At bedtime she would just undress and flop down on the bed, no hugs or foreplay of any kind...

My despondency was causing me to become impotent, sometimes I couldn't get it up at all. She took particular delight in teasing me about my flaccid cock. She would laugh and deride me, calling me 'Little Dick'. Of course, that only made my impotency worse.

Then she began to carry it beyond our bedroom, humiliating me every chance she got, even in front of her friends. Her reference to me was always 'Little Dick'. I would good naturedly shrug and smile, but like anything that's repeated enough times, her friends began to believe it. Some started calling me Little Dick too. Worse, they started calling me a wimp behind my back. I wondered if Andrea thought I was a wimp too.

But this was her revenge, so I bore the humiliation, I didn't know what else I could do. Any action on my part would only make the situation worse. I thought it best to ride it out, it would have to end soon.

Wrong, it went on for weeks. One night, after Little Dick did a 'no show', I marched off to the spare bedroom. A few minutes later, she came in.

"Listen to me carefully," she hissed through her teeth, "I have no intention of sleeping alone. Do you understand my meaning?"

Laying in the spare bedroom, I didn't get a wink of sleep that night. A hundred questions flooded my mind. Did she love someone else? Did she want to end our marriage and be with him? Or was this just part of her revenge, wanting me in her bed so she could continue to humiliate and torment me?

That Thursday morning, our breakfast was more than strained.

"Andrea, this has got to stop. I am trying very hard to understand your revenge, but it's only driving us further apart. For God's sake, tell me what you want me to do."

She slammed her coffee mug down on the table, picked up her briefcase, and walked toward the door, "Only you can end it, Rand, and you know damned well what to do."

I didn't... Half awake, I dragged my ass around work all day, trying to decipher her last sentence. When I got home for dinner, she wasn't there. After waiting two hours, I ate something out of a can and trudged off to our bedroom to get some much needed sleep.

She came to bed late. Waking me, she turned on the bedside lamp and flaunted her bare pussy at me, giggling. It was the first time she had ever shaven her soft downy peach. It was beautiful, she was beautiful, I got an instant hard on, thinking at last her revenge was over. I reached out and pulled her gently down beside me and kissed her tenderly, then passionately.

Again, I was sure I could taste semen in her mouth and after forcefully spreading her legs, my finger found semen in her crotch. I stared at my hand, unbelieving... Now I knew for sure she was fucking him. This was no longer revenge, this was infidelity. She had gone too far, breaking her vows, blatantly, easily, without concern for our marriage.

"Whore cunt, you goddamn fucking slut bitch," I screamed.

Shocked, she cowered in fear at my outburst, "Rand, I-I'm sorry..."

I donned my robe and left the bedroom before I did her some serious harm.

"Rand... wait... please."

I slammed the bedroom door. Grabbing a bottle of scotch, I made my way to the computer room in the basement...

Throughout history, men have deluded themselves into thinking they make the choices when it comes to mating. That's untrue, it's the woman who always choses. Tonight she made it plain, she had chosen someone else and I was devastated that it wasn't me.

It was hard to believe. What began as my attempt to instill a meaningful sexual relationship into our marriage had deteriorated so badly... rape, revenge, humiliation, and finally, infidelity. Tears fell, my pain was unbearable.

The half bottle of scotch turned my brain into mush. I sat there in despair, staring at the gun in my computer desk drawer. I picked it up... wondering what oblivion was like...

I slammed the drawer shut. What the fuck was I doing? Why was I beating myself up? Goddamit, it was her infidelity, not mine... Fuck it, I'd had enough, it was time to end it... But first I would make the whore pay.

I slept on the couch. In the morning, my self pity and anger were replaced be a throbbing headache. She avoided me, even to the point of skipping breakfast. As she headed for the door, I grabbed her. I needed some answers.

"I love you, Andrea, but you're killing me... What you've done is far beyond the pale."

"It's not what you think, you idiot, but I'm glad your're suffering for what you did to me," she countered.

"At the expense of our marriage?"

She put her arms around my neck and looked up into my eyes. I could see the hurt and the sadness. Her pretty mouth made little movements, but she didn't answer.

"It's over, Andrea, "I can't take any more."

She obviously thought she still controlled our relationship and left for work without another word. I stayed an extra hour to pack my bags and throw them in the trunk of my car.

It was Friday and there was a party at her coworker's house. I didn't much care for Julie or her shallow friends and rarely attended her parties. But tonight it would be our last time together and it was the perfect venue for what I had planned. Tonight would be her turn for humiliation, and then I'd be gone.

We arrived home from work at almost the same time. She ran up and threw her arms around me, trying to kiss me. I pushed her away without a word. We drove directly to the party in silence. When we were almost there, she buried her head in my shoulder.

"Rand, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you so badly. I should have ended this stupid revenge long ago but I couldn't seem to stop. I've become so vindictive, I'm ashamed of myself."

"Do you want to go home and talk about it?"

"No, I promised Julie I would help and we're almost there. Let's go home early and I promise to explain everything."

"You won't want to talk to me later tonight," I growled.

The party was in a very large den, opening onto an even larger deck. There were more than two dozen couples in attendance. I wandered around, trying to mix, but it seemed most of her friends avoided me. They didn't want to associate with Little Dick, the wimp. Andrea was flitting around with a tray of drinks, always making sure there was a scotch for me. She gave me little pecks on my face and lips... never once calling me Little Dick.

She was a good cohostess, always smiling and chatting with everyone. If her lover was there, he could have been any one of half a dozen men. As she mingled with the crowd, serving drinks, men couldn't keep their hands off her body. They put their arms around her, patting her hard bubble ass. If they noticed me staring, they just smirked, regarding me as some sort of insect.

When she saw who they were smirking at, she playfully bucked her hip at me. It didn't make me feel any better, the men continued sneering at me while pawing her. I felt like I had 'WIMP' written across my forehead. Maybe if I walked over and banged a couple of their heads together... but that wasn't part of my plan.

By mid evening, no one was feeling any pain. I stood alone, nursing a scotch and doing some people watching. It seemed everyone was flirting and fondling someone other than their own spouses, I wondered how many of them were fornicating too. Julie's parties were always raunchy, but this time everyone was so sloshed, it seemed as if the party was going to break into an orgy at any moment. A few had already paired off and were looking for places to do the dirty.

Mary and her husband Don were having a tiff. She spat a few words at him and I could see the anger in her face as she stomped off in search of another drink. Don walked across the room and pulled Andrea down on a couch beside him. They immediately struck up a conversation, chuckling and giggling.

"Hi, Little Di... I mean, Rick..." I heard Mary from behind me.

"Rand," I said, turning around to face her. I had only met her once at a previous party. She was very pretty, with a disproportionately large set of jugs for her small 5'2" frame.

"You look a little distraught, Mary... problem?"

"I think my asshole husband is having an affair. I haven't found out who yet, but I will."

I nodded in the direction of Andrea and Don across the room on one of the couches. "Maybe the answer is closer than you think."

Don was pawing Andrea now and she was nervously looking around the room, trying to push his hands away. Since Don and Andrea worked for the same company, I fingered him for her lover. My blood pressure climbed about twenty notches.

"Want to do something really naughty?" I asked in a thin voice. "Would you give me a hand job in front of them?"

I caught her off guard. At first she recoiled, staring open mouthed at me. Then slowly her wheels began to turn.

"Yessss," she hissed, "Maybe even a bit more."

We walked over and stood in front of them on the couch, myself in front of Andrea, and Mary in front of Don. Andrea gave me a weak smile and Don gave me his superior smirk. I wanted to plant my shoe in his mouth.

Instead, I yelled very loudly, "OK, it's time everyone had a look at Little Dick." They all stopped talking and looked over at me. I pulled my slacks and shorts down to mid thigh. Mary got on her knees and grabbed my soft pecker...

I should explain about my equipment. When I am flaccid, my dick is only four inches long, even smaller when it's been in a swimming pool or the shower. It's less than an inch thick and appears as though it could easily disappear into my ample nut sack.

The snickers started as people gathered around to watch. Mary looked a bit disappointed. It was too soft to wank, so she just alternately squeezed and tugged on it. I was looking down her dress at her braless tits, imagining what it would be like to suck on those pink nipples.