How Much Love?

There were a couple of incidents where I was told that if I couldn't stay after hours, I'd probably be let go. "Okay, I told my manager. I liked working here, but I can get another job pretty easily. Replacing my husband wouldn't be nearly as easy if it was even possible."

Over the years our assets grew. We moved out of the apartment into better ones and finally into a nice home. Both Rob and I, in response to the pressure from his mom (my parents had died in a tornado three years after we got married) had begun to seriously discuss having children.

Rob joked that my biological clock was ticking so loudly that he could hear it from outside. We planned everything including when I should go off the pill. When I should quit my job and even which months I'd most like to be pregnant. We decided to start trying in late summer.

At that time there was nothing really wrong with our marriage. In fact it was perfect, too perfect to last. That was mostly due to Rob. You've heard about marriages that grow stale over time? Ron wouldn't let that happen. He was always surprising me with little gifts or flowers or vacations. We always had several different date nights during the week and we took classes together to try out different activities and keep things fresh. We took an acting class together one summer for the hell of it. The next summer we took up fencing. The summer before it all ended we tried rock climbing only to discover that we were both afraid of heights.

Our sex life was magical, but unfortunately I didn't know that. I guess I'd begun taking Rob and the things he did for me for granted. I worked in an office full of people, mostly women who were a lot younger than my thirty-six years. When I'd tell them that I'd been married for fourteen years, their eyes would roll back in their heads.

"You got married when I was five years old," One girl told me. They often told me about their wild nights and their varieties of lovers. I was intrigued by hearing about being with different men, men with big dicks or smaller ones, fat ones or longer thinner ones. Black men, Asians, romantic Latin men or aggressive bikers all piqued my interest. I was headed for forty and had only had sex with one man for my entire life.

I had no stories to tell of coming into work with a headache from too much liquor and a sore pussy. I didn't have any comparison to throw into the debate about whether rough sex was better than a simple no strings fuck in the broom closet at work with a guy whose name you never found out.

I had never had to lie my way out of forgetting I was going out with someone because I'd booked dates with two or more guys for the same night. I'd never had sex with more than one man at a time.

In fact one of the secretaries told me that I was sexually retarded. I was an anachronism, a throwback to the early twentieth century. They didn't make them like me anymore. I began to be consumed with thoughts of having sex with someone other than Rob. It began to take over most of my waking thoughts.

In a conversation I once mentioned that I was thinking about asking Rob if I could do it. All of the women quickly shut me up.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" they asked. "Your husband will never let you do it. Men are like little boys. They all want to keep us locked up and reserved only for them. It doesn't matter if your husband is getting some on the side, which he probably is. You can't ever let him know that you want to try someone else. In his mind it becomes a competition. Once you've done that you'll cause yourself all kinds of problems. Don't tell him, just do it," they all said.

"Besides even if he does let you do it, then at some point you're going to have to let him have his turn. Are you really prepared to let him fuck some other woman, probably someone younger than you with a nicer ass and bigger tits?"

"Every man on earth doesn't want a nice normal woman like you Cheryl," said my friend Tina. She pointed across the office. They all want girls like Molly. Molly was a temp who had just gotten out of college. She was 5' 10' weighed 115lbs had a 22 inch waist and natural 36DD breasts.

"Can you compete with something like that?" asked Tina. I shook my head, especially since I knew that Molly, though she used to model part time to work her way through college, had confided in me that she was looking for a marriage like mine and a husband like Rob. The thought of Rob getting to fuck her in exchange for me trying out another dick was scary. I'd never get him back.

That settled it, the only thing to do since I only intended to try this once was to figure out what kind of guy I wanted. They all had advantages and I needed to really go for something different. Rob and I were nearing forty so maybe a younger guy who could go all night might be a good thing to try. After a few days of thinking about it, I made up my mind. I think it was partially because of my thoughts about Rob with Molly that made up my mind that youth and enthusiasm was the way to go.

I ended up hooking up with one of our college interns, David Parker. It took a few weeks to get the relationship started. I began to spend time with him away from work and finally moved to the point where he tentatively brushed up against me. When I moaned in response to his fumbling movement he pulled out all of the stops and had me in a hotel room one Wednesday at lunch time.

I wasn't disappointed. He lasted for hours just as advertised. The problem was that being tortured for hours, is still being tortured. He didn't know what the fuck he was doing. It was like he just hit my pussy with a hammer. He didn't care whether it was good for me or not. When we were done he just left the room. I lay there feeling cheap and cheated. I cried my eyes out and had no one to blame but myself.

When I got home I couldn't look Rob in the eyes. I had to go to bed and pretend to be sick. He made me feel even worse; he bent over backwards trying to take care of me. He tried everything he could think of to make me feel better. I was just dirt. I didn't deserve a husband that good.

Within a few days everyone at work knew I'd fucked Dave. He told everyone he could. He even started describing me as his married slut. A lot of the people I worked with started to distance themselves from me and a lot of the guys started hitting on me. One of the managers even tried to pull me into a supply closet and asked me to suck his dick. I realized that for a while I'd been untouchable and special. The predators tend to stay away from faithful married women. But I'd crossed over into slutville, so I was fair game.

Dave kept pushing me and pressuring me for a return visit. I refused and told him I'd file sexual harassment charges against him if he ever mentioned it again. He was young enough that the threat, though unfounded, worked. The thing I hated about Dave the most was that he only actually spoke to me when there was no one else around. He bragged to all of the guys about fucking me. But he only did it to boost his reputation. I got the feeling that while I'd considered him young and attractive and it flattered my ego to think that I could still get someone who was in their early twenties, he saw things differently.

He didn't see me as attractive, only as pussy that he could easily get. Other than that he was ashamed to have people thinking that he'd even consider someone as old as I was. He'd once pointed out to me that I was only a couple of years younger than his mother.

Of course the same women who'd helped me decide to do it in the first place convinced me that I'd simply picked the wrong type of guy. Tina reminded me that I'd gotten with Rob while we were both young any way. Maybe what I needed was a caring gentle older man with even more experience sexually than Rob had. Someone who would also be discreet about things because he'd probably have as much to lose as I would.

Normally I would never have considered it, but they put so much pressure on me to do something to get the whole Dave experience out of my head that I began to give in. They also let me know that I was acting differently, since Dave and that if I kept that up Rob might be able to tell.

None of us knew it but Rob wasn't stupid. We'd been together far too long for him not to really know me. He'd known something was wrong from the first day I'd come home "sick." He didn't know exactly what I'd done but his radar was up.

I met Henry on the internet of all places. I actually went out looking for an older man to have sex with. He seemed to be perfect. His wife was dying in a hospital. Her illness was prolonged. He'd gone years without having sex and he missed it. He was looking for a discreet relationship to just occasionally tend to his urges. I felt so sorry for him that I cried. I felt like it was almost my duty to help this poor man in his pain.

I felt sadder still after our first time. It took me hours to get him up and he could only maintain his erection for a few minutes. He seemed determined to get me off though so he spent nearly an hour eating me. It felt so depressing looking down into his sad eyes as he slobbered away between my eyes that I couldn't get into it and had to fake an orgasm.

I think the saddest I felt though was when I found out that the whole sick wife story was a lie. He was pretty much just a con man. He wanted more sex than his wife could give him even though he couldn't get it up. When I left the motel, I realized the bastard even stole all of the cash out of my purse. I had to leave my purse, my ID and my cell phone with the motel clerk so I could go to an ATM machine and get cash to pay for the room. I couldn't risk Rob seeing the charge for the motel room on my credit card statement.

As bad as I felt then I felt worse when I got home. I got home and showered up to make myself pretty for Rob. He and I had sex pretty regularly, usually 4 or 5 nights a week. We did little things like toys or themed nights to keep things fresh. Rob always got me off. The problem with us was actually in my head. I guess I'd been convinced that the grass was greener somewhere else.

When I got out of the shower I noticed that Rob was already home. I'd begun cooking dinner in just one of my favorite silk robes to give him an idea of what his desert would be when I noticed his briefcase was in the living room. His car was also in the driveway. It was unusual for Rob to come into the house without talking to me or even greeting me. I searched through the house for him and finally found him in one of the spare bedrooms. He was asleep with the covers pulled up around him.

I smiled and went over to him, thinking that this was one of our games. I soon found out that it wasn't. "Cher, don't get too close to me," he said. "I think I'm coming down with something."

He refused to let me take care of him. He told me not to make dinner because he had no appetite. He didn't even want me to sit with him. I chalked it up to Rob trying to protect me as usual. I hated it though because in the entire time that we'd been married, it was the first night that we hadn't slept together. I tossed and turned in our big bed feeling lonely and horny.

I missed Rob so badly I could taste it and that thieving bastard Henry had gotten me so warmed up that I'd have fucked a snake. I realized then that I'd taken Rob for granted. And I swore I'd never make that mistake again.

It took a few days for Rob to get over his bug and start sleeping in our bed again. He was still too tired for sex and I was climbing the walls. Another thing was that he was still convinced that he might be contagious so he wouldn't cuddle with me either. The sluts at work were still working on me though. They were convinced now that what I was missing wasn't an age thing.

They were now certain, that it was an experience and technique thing. What I really needed was a real experienced cock man and pussy hound, probably with a big dick. Luckily they knew just where I could meet such a guy. I told them that I'd sworn not to ever do it again and they reminded me that I'd already done it twice and it hadn't hurt my marriage. It was better for me to just get it all out of my system and then settle down have my babies and live out the rest of my life without having to look back and say, "I wish I'd done this or that."

Since Rob was still under the weather and I was really horny, I caved. We left work early and went to a bar that they knew about. That way I could meet a few guys and still be home in time to keep Rob from noticing anything different. I really thought that I was doing my part to protect Rob the way he protected me. After all I'd made sure he didn't find out how badly I'd been suffering and longing to try these things.

Surprisingly within a few minutes of us arriving a guy named Greg that a few of my friends from work knew came over to our table. It seemed that Greg knew a couple of them very well. He explained to me that he only did no strings meetings. He seemed kind of like a hooker, to me but realistically there was no way I'd ever fall for him anyway. He was too arrogant and too sure of himself. I got his phone number so we could hook up and get this over with.

After being burned by Henry at the motel I decided to take care of my last bit of curiosity on my home ground. I called in sick the next morning and called in Greg, in the early afternoon. He arrived at about one, which I figured would give me about four hours with him before I needed to strip the bed, air out the house and get cleaned up for Rob.

When Greg took off his clothes I was shocked. His body was nothing special. He wasn't even as muscular or as good looking as my husband was. I couldn't figure out why he was walking around on the balls of his feet like he was hot shit. Then he pulled his pants down and I saw the size of his dick. It was really big. The next thing I knew he had me on my back. He slowly worked that thing into me and started fucking me. He kept saying things like, "Oh yeah baby, take it."

I guess it was supposed to be hot but I found it just funny. I kept wishing I could take it off of him and put it on someone else. Apparently Greg had never bothered to learn what to do with his big dick or the fact that most women needed more than one type of stimulation to climax.

"You're going to be my slut after this," he said. I had to stifle my laughs even more.

I started thrusting my hips into him just to get him to finish faster because suddenly I realized that I didn't need four hours with him. Twenty minutes would do. Then I could use the rest of the time to make all of Rob's favorite dishes at the same time and throw away my pills so Rob could get me pregnant.

I even realized that the whole big dick thing especially in my case was a fallacy. Rob's dick was big enough that it made it all the way to my cervix. Anything else simply wouldn't go in. With every thrust that Greg was making he still didn't go any further he just painfully bottomed out on me and there were a couple of inches that just stayed outside of me. It was like trying to force a stick into a bottle. Once it hit the bottom of the bottle it wasn't going any further without breaking the stick or the bottle. My pussy could only stretch so far. Maybe over time it would adjust to Greg's length, but there wasn't going to be another time. I was almost smiling as I realized that I'd gone through all of this bullshit to realize that the perfect man for me was the one I was married to.

"Whose pussy is this?" asked Greg as he hammered away at me.

He was almost whining now so I could tell he was getting close. "Whose pussy is this slut?" he asked again.

"Uhm yours," I said hoping that if he got what he wanted, I'd get what I wanted sooner too. I wanted him out of my fucking house. In fact if he ever showed up in my neighborhood I'd call the police after this.

"Roll over, I want to fuck you doggy style," he said. "That way it'll go in deeper."

"Oh shit, not deeper," I smirked. I did hope he'd get done sooner so I could take a nap before I started cooking Rob's dinner.

He guided his giant dick into me from behind and I did feel some sensation from it but as I was analyzing the feelings I figured out what had been missing. Basically, unlike the women at my office, I'd been raised to believe that sex needed to come with love. In order for me to get anything out of the act I had to love the man I was with and know that he loved me. I didn't love Greg or his dick. I didn't even like him.

That moment I thought I'd had a great epiphany. I thought I'd realized one of the secrets of life. What I didn't realize was that my life would change but even more profoundly in just a few moments.

Greg slapped me on my ass and started humping me from behind. He'd already been close to cumming before but I could tell he was only seconds away and I couldn't wait to get this done with.

"Ooh I'm gonna cum baby, where do you want it?" he asked.

"Just do it," I said out of boredom and practicality. There was no way I'd let him come in my mouth or on my face or anywhere on my body. Also if he did it anywhere outside of me, it meant more time spent cleaning up. Unfortunately he took that the wrong way.

"Oh you want it inside of you. You want me to knock you up don't you, you nasty little bitch?" he said. His voice was almost an octave higher as if he was straining not to cum so he could blast my insides with a more powerful spray. Like he was pumping up a super soaker before he shot it off.

"Oh yeah, that's what I want," I said sarcastically.

Greg suddenly collapsed onto me, his weight pressing me into the bed. His hips jerked spastically towards me as his semen shot into my pussy. "Arrrrgh," he groaned like a confused pirate.

"Oh yeah!!" I said happy that it was finally over.

Then I heard clapping from behind me. Greg and I turned our heads at the same time. He was too spent to move and I was pinned by his weight. I nearly lost consciousness as I realized that I was in more trouble than I'd ever been in my life.

"Hey, man," began Greg.

"Don't say another fucking word," warned Rob. "I'll just get my stuff and be out of here. But if you start talking, trust me I'll fuck you up."

"She came after me, it's not my f..." said Greg stupidly. To this day I still wonder why he spoke. Rob had said he was leaving and to just be quiet but Greg just had to open his mouth.

Though bigger than Rob physically, he couldn't come close to matching Rob's rage. Greg was exhausted from pounding away at me for nearly fifteen minutes. Rob had adrenaline and outright hate pouring through his system.

He grabbed Greg by his neck and one of his arms and dragged him off of me. He pulled Greg off of me so hard that Greg's shrinking penis twisted coming out. He screamed like a woman at the abuse to his sensitive organ. It bruised my vagina enough to draw blood. Greg's watch also scraped me as it was drawn across my body.

Greg yelped and started pleading with Rob but to no avail. Rob's right fist punched Greg in the face several times really quickly and really hard, while his left arm held Greg up. Then he slammed Greg's head into the floor and dragged him down our hardwood stairs by one leg. I dragged myself off of the bed expecting to see Rob kick Greg in the nuts but he never did. He opened the door and threw Greg, unconscious out onto our lawn.

I expected him to turn and run up the stairs and slap the hell out me and start yelling at me, but he didn't do that either. He just looked at me for a long moment. I felt the weight of every tear that rolled down his cheeks as he looked at me. Then he just turned around and walked out of the house.

My brain refused to function. I just stood there. Then after a few minutes I realized that he was probably outside beating Greg further into a pulp. I needed to be ready to beg him and plead with him not to leave me. He'd said he was going to get his stuff and leave. I ran back into the bedroom and stood in front of his dresser. There was no way he was taking anything out of this house unless he was taking me with him.