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I dedicate this story to Walter from Southern California.
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Something that all women say one time or another, "How do you like me now?"
After being unhappily married to his wife for more than 25 long, suffering, and sexually frustrating years, if Jay was to describe Ruth now, he'd say that she was a drunk, a cheating wife, and a cougar with an overactive libido for younger men. With him knowing her well enough to compress a complete description of her, that one, unflattering sentence encapsulated all of her. To simply define her as a drunk, an unfaithful wife, and a cougar not only explained who she was but also explained what his life has been like being married to her and living with her such a selfish, self-centered bitch.
From the time she opens her eyes to the time she falls asleep, with the world revolving around her, everything is about her. With her needing to blame someone, anyone, but herself for her actions, the reason why she drinks is somehow his fault. Convolutedly nonsensical, he'd like to know how she could possibly blame him for having sex with young men when she's the one who rejects him from his marriage bed. Always willing to give her the sexual satisfaction that she needs, she doesn't want him. She'd rather have a prettier man with a harder cock.
When some men wished they were married to a woman who'd readily have sex with other men while they watched, Jay's marriage to Ruth was much different than that. He never asked her to have sex with anyone while he watched. Yet she readily had sex with other men but not while he watched. She had sex behind his back. She was a cheating wife. She was a cocksucker. She was a whore. He was married to a cheating wife, cocksucker of a whore, who not only never sucked his cock but also didn't even want to have sex with him.
Only, more than that, so much more than that, she was a drunk too. With her so addicted to alcohol, she'd have sex with anyone, anytime for a drink, preferably a martini with two olives. She was a sneak and a cheat. She cheated on him whenever he traveled. Not only did she have sex with his friends and his neighbors but she had sex with young men she picked up at the mall.
Certainly, if he were to describe himself back then, he was a scientist, a physical chemist, an artist, a painter, a writer, a hunter, a health nut, an outdoorsman, and a marathon runner. Yet, with him not totally innocent, in the way that Ruth loved younger men, Jay enjoyed not only an abundance of younger women but women his age and older women too. Only, in the way that a painter surveys the landscape and/or his subject before painting his masterpiece, Jay was a connoisseur of women. Selective with whom he bedded, not just any woman would do in the way that any man would do for Ruth as long as he fueled her sexual desire with copious amounts of gin and vermouth.
Early in his marriage, with Ruth not yet a drunk, but on her way to abusing alcohol, he discovered she was a whore. He thought that he was marrying a good woman, a modest woman, a moral woman, and a woman who was happy to be married to him. He thought that he was marrying a somewhat sexually innocent woman. Instead, he married a whore.
Not expecting her to be a virgin, especially with all the making out and fooling around they did in the backseat of his car before marrying her, but he didn't think that his wife was a whore. Yet, now with no ands, ifs, buts, or maybes, she was a whore. Ruth was a whore. His wife was a whore. He was married to a whore. It's one thing for a girlfriend to be a whore, but it's quite another thing for his wife, the mother of their child to be a whore.
Now with her already a whore and on her way to being a drunk, instead of just thinking of her as a whore, she was soon labeled by Jay as a drunken whore. While some men would never want to be married to a whore, some men would be happy to be married to a whore, while other men would only want their wife to be their whore exclusively. Unfortunately and alas, as he always suspected and soon discovered more and more, Ruth was every man's whore but for Jay. The only sexual thing that Jay may get her to do, something that he could do for himself, was to give him a hand job, as long as he didn't try feeling the tits and fingering her nipples. Unexplainable, somehow, her nipples were always sore for him to finger and suck but seemingly they were never sore for anyone else to finger and suck.
It wasn't long before he discovered that his precious, loving wife, who he had just married, sucked and fucked his best man in the backseat of the limo on their wedding day during their reception. He couldn't believe it. He didn't understand. He was hurt. Feeling cheated on, he felt rejected. Too angry to confront either one of them, if he had a gun he would have shot them both dead.
Then years later, during an argument, she confessed that she had sex with most of the men they knew, mostly friends and neighbors. Men he saw all the time and men he thought were his friends, he stopped seeing. Rather keeping to himself, he didn't dare befriend another man to bring home to meet his wife. Instead, whatever new friendships he developed, he kept them from Ruth.
Whether her cheating on him was his justification or not, or was just a fortunate sexual opportunity that presented itself, something he wasn't tempted to do before, he was especially tempted to do now. Now, even more than just wanting to get even, he needed and wanted to have sex. With him always so sexually frustrated and horny, with his wife not having sex with him but freely having sex with others, that's when he had sex with Marlene.
* * * * *
He was 24-years-old and barely married two years when he met Marlene, a petite, 39-year-old, divorced, Jewish American Princess with three kids. Even though she was a little pudgy, she was plumb in all the right places. She had a curvaceous, Rubenesque look about her as if she was a naked woman in one of Rubin's or Rembrandt's paintings.
In the way she made use of her hands, her mouth, and her pussy, she stretched the definition of MILF to super MILF. With women experiencing their sexual peaks at chronological more mature ages and men reaching their peaks fifteen years earlier, with both of them at their sexual peaks, they were the perfect age for one another. The opposite of Ruth, at least when it came to her sexual treatment of him, and with her more romantically in line with him, she was horny and always ready for sex.
Meanwhile, sexually making her way around the neighborhood with an empty martini glass in hand, he suspected that Ruth was already having sex with their neighbor, his best friend, Bob. It turned out that he's the one who got her pregnant but fortunately for all, she lost the baby. God, she was such a drunken slut, even back then. Yet, now that he had Marlene sexually taking care of him, he didn't much care what his wife was doing with young men when he wasn't home. What Ruth was sexually doing with much younger men, Marlene was doing with him.
With him trying to make a good future for them, he was working long hours in the lab towards earning his PhD in physical chemistry. While he was trying to become the scientist he always dreamt of becoming, she was sucking and fucking men and more becoming the whore that she was determined and destined to be. It wouldn't have hurt him as much that his wife was a bitch of a whore, as long as she sexually took care of him too but she didn't. Rejecting him, making him feel unwanted, and making him feel that there was something wrong with him, she looked at him as if she skived him. She looked at him as if she hated the sight of him when he was the one supporting her, the stupid, ungrateful bitch.
* * * * *
Marlene worked at the college in the library as one of the librarians and with him always in the library when not in the laboratory, they had become friends. They sometimes had coffee together or lunch in the cafeteria together where they talked, laughed, and flirted. On good days when needing to get some air, they walked around the campus together talking while laughing. All so very innocent, they were just co-workers who had become friends.
It was raining hard one day when Jay saw her leaving the front door of the university library with her umbrella and rain hat. Normally she has her car parked in the back lot but on this rainy day she didn't. He remembered she told him that her car was in the shop. With him not putting two and two together to offer her a ride before, when she first told him that she didn't have a car, he offered her a ride now. Being that they were good friend, he looked forward to driving her home while talking about nothing and laughing over everything. Only, with him so naïve, he never imagined giving her a ride home would turn out to be more than just a friendly gesture.
An attractive woman with a very pretty face, she was a short but shapely woman. Something he liked about her and that drew him to her, when she talked to him, her dark, brown, expressive eyes were always locked on his sad and sexually frustrated eyes. She looked at him as if she could read him. She looked at him as if she knew who he was inside. She looked at him as if she could feel his pain and suffering sorrow that started with the death of his mother and continued with the drunken whoring of his wife.
Mesmerizing him with her eyes, as if he was the only man in the world, she made him feel important. She made him feel wanted. She made him feel that he could trust her not to hurt him. She made him want to tell her all of his sexy secrets and all of his sexual problems. Unable to hide anything from her, with her having the perception of a mother and the insight of a lover, she looked at him as if she already knew that he sexually wanted her. A cross between his mother and his wife, even though she didn't look like any one of them, as if he was her adopted son, he couldn't resist her motherly comfort.
The gentleman that he is albeit one with ulterior, sexual motives, he walked her out to the parking lot while holding his umbrella over her head. Then, braving the rain, he held his car door open for her while she took her sweet time getting in his car. A time when the miniskirt was just starting to take hold of women across the country, she was wearing a short skirt. As she climbed in his car, with him too horny to avert his stare, he was hoping to see a quick flash of her panty. He was hoping to see something that he shouldn't see of Marlene to masturbate over later. Had it not been for his wife refusing to do her wifely duty in caring for his sexual needs, he wouldn't have been horny enough to sexually take advantage of his friend by trying to sneak a quick peek between her legs.
Only, instead of just being rewarded with a quick flash of her panty, he saw much more than that. As soon as she sat in the passenger seat, with her legs spread open wide, she took her time closing and shaking out her umbrella and situating her purse and feet on the floor of the car. A sexy, panty flashing show that he'll be masturbating over later, no doubt, he saw all that he wanted and needed to see of her panty clad, pleasure pot. With her turned to him but leaning towards the driver's side with her knees still spread wide open, he saw the inside of her thighs and a prolonged flash of her panty clad pussy.
'Holy shit. Oh, my God!'
With her fifteen years older than him, nearly old enough to be his mother or at least his big sister, he felt like a pervert for staring but, unable to look away, he couldn't help himself from leering. As if it happened yesterday instead of years ago, it's not only amazing how much he saw of her in just a quick flash of her underwear but also how much of her that he remembers seeing. With her skirt raised high enough and her legs spread open long enough, he not only her questioned her motivation but also her morals and her modesty.
