by Matt Tims
She carried the basket of clothes up the basement stairs before heading up even more steps on her way to Ryan’s bedroom. She decided to take a peek inside his closet after putting the garments away into their respective dresser drawers. Dress pants, dress shirts, ties, belts, suits, and dress shoes made up the right half, while casual shirts and athletic shoes filled the left side. Up on the top shelf were folded jeans and sweaters. It was the closet of an organized man who had his shit together. It was the polar opposite of what her husband’s closet looked like.
First off, Tom didn’t own any dress shirts or pants other than the one pair of khakis and that awful gray polo he would wear if he absolutely had to. And his closet was full of childish t-shirts and scattered clothes on the floor. It was so messy and unorganized. She’d occasionally cleaned and organized it every few months throughout the first decade of their marriage, but she eventually scraped that sporadic task due to its lack of appreciation.
A medium size black wooden box jumped out at her as she took a peek at the lower left corner of his closet. She slid it out and looked inside, her eyes instantly lighting up. It was full of the toys Ashley had told her about.
“Like anything you see?”
Her head snapped in the direction of a particular deep voice. Ryan leaned against his bedroom wall, staring at her with a t-shirt on this time. Clothed or not, she was enamored.
She hesitantly lifted the a gag from the top of the pile.
“That’s a favorite.”
“Of yours?” she asked.
Ryan slowly shook his head.
“What’s your favorite?” she questioned, now gazing down into the box of toys. An unmistakable energy slowly crawled along her skin.
“What do you think my favorite is?” he asked.
She moved a blindfold to the side to reveal a pair of steel handcuffs. Seconds later, she held it in the air, praying that her guess was correct.
Ryan smirked.
She was wet.
“The house looks nice,” he told her.
She didn’t have a chance at hiding her smile. In fact, she was glowing. Was that all it took to make her feel this way? A simple compliment? To just have someone appreciate the work she’d done for them? Tom always seemed to take everything she did for granted: the cooking, the cleaning, her sexual advances—it was all just expected. Married or not, she still liked validation.
“Good job,” he added.
She was six years old again. She’d been taken back to the days when a “good job” from her father was the highlight of her week. Male appreciation was so important to her, yet she had such a lack of it in her life. She didn’t desire for Tom to make more money, to lose eighty pounds, or to become an amazing conversationalist. What she truly needed was someone who made her feel like a woman, and appreciating the work a woman puts in—especially inside the home—is worthy of compliments.
Her fingers trailed the length of a rugged black leather paddle inside the box of toys. She held it in the air, turning to the door to ask, “What about this one?”
Ryan was gone.
She felt his presence vanish from the room. That strong, powerful, dominant aura had disappeared, and she was already longed for its return. Life was so empty without him around.
She hung her outfit back up in his closet after changing, and made sure to slide the box of toys back into the corner. One last smile was all she needed. Just another “good job” would do it for her. She made a quick trip around the house to receive that final pat on the head, but Ryan was nowhere to be found.
Chapter 7 – A Second Hail Mary
10:13 PM.
This wasn’t how Hail Mary’s worked. You don’t get two shots at them (unless you’re Aaron Rodgers). A Hail Mary was supposed to be a last ditch effort. It was a heave that you prayed would be caught, and Jen was taking that heave—for a second time.
She’d spent the last two hours diligently working after arriving home at eight o’clock. So what if she couldn’t have a fit, charming, sexual stud of a husband? There were other options. They could still make this marriage work.
She decided on something very basic. She would satisfy Tom; and in return, he would praise her. It was as simple as that. She desired for someone to notice all the work and effort she put into making her household operate. She needed to be appreciated.
The house was completely clean, her homemade cheesecake waited in the refrigerator, and the basement where Tom spent the majority of his free time had received a makeover. As if taking out the overflowing garbage and restocking the minifridge with an array of beverages wasn’t enough, then she’d picked up the hottest new video game on top of everything else. She’d even removed the mess of cups and plates that always covered the coffee table.
She took a step back and smiled. She was an amazing wife. How many other full-time working mothers would do something like this for their husbands? Not many. And all she needed was for him to appreciate her. It was that easy. Not to mention that she was wearing her sexiest black lace nightie.
The basement door opened and footsteps scurried down the stairs.
“Hey, Jen,” Tom acknowledged her as he made his way to the couch. “What’s going—whoa!”
She smiled.
“You did this?” he asked, looking around at his spotless man cave.
She answered with a nod.
“Wow! Thanks, honey!” he smiled back before sitting down on the sofa.
Jen quickly ran upstairs and sliced a big piece of cheesecake onto a plate, before returning with it on a white plate.
“Is that what I think it is!?” Tom asked excitedly while reaching for the plate. “Awesome!”
She sat down next to him and rubbed his back while he wolfed down his favorite dessert.
“Ah, and it’s homemade!” he almost yelled. “Jen, this is amazing!”
She pointed at the coffee table in front of them. Tom peered his eyes in the relative darkness before turning to her with an even bigger smile.
His excited hands placed his empty plate on the table, and reached for his new gift. “This is incredible! What did I do to deserve all this?”
“Just for being you,” she answered, her left hand continuing to run along his back. She noticed cheesecake crumbs in his beard as he struggled to open the plastic wrapping on the video game case.
Stop! Don’t do it! He thanked and praised you for what you did. Don’t let contempt seethe back into your blood. Respect him! He’s your husband!
“Need scissors, honey?” she asked.
“No, I got it,” he answered, finally breaking through the seal. “This game is so cool. The multiplayer is sixteen versus sixteen matches! That’s how big the maps are! They can easily fit thirty-two people!”
She was doing her best to stay interested.
“Hey, you wanna watch me play? Or I can teach you how to play! You wanna give it a shot?”
She took a deep breath. It was getting harder and harder to put on a smile. “I’ll watch.”
He labored to get out of his seat before placing the disc in the gaming console. “Thirty-two person multiplayer is going to be insane! And there isn’t even any lag!”
“What’s lag?” she inquired.
Do you care what lag is? Do you care about any of this? Why’s he so excited to play a video game when you’re sitting next to him in a nightie? Shouldn’t his hands be all over you? No, stop! Stop being a bitch! Just try to take an interest in what he enjoys!
“Lag is when the game jumps and delays because the servers are overloaded,” he explained while sitting back down. “Sometimes it’s hard for the servers to keep up when a lot of people are playing, but not with this one! I read that it’s completely smooth. Well, the gaming reviews sites always say that, but I believe…”
Jen was zoning out. Was she a bad person? Was it wrong to be so turned off by her husband’s childish hobby? There was nothing wrong with playing video games, but she couldn’t help but feel that he shared
the same passion for them as a teenager. And she was sitting right next to him! In a fuckin’ nightie!
Her left hand continued to rub his back as her right hand moved to his groin. She saw him grin and raise his video game controller, allowing her access to his lap. She unzipped his jeans; and moments later, she was attempting to stroke his cock to life.
Eventually, his manhood hardened in her hand. “Can you try to last a little longer this time?”
“You want me to last longer?” he asked, surprised.
Unbelievable! Twenty years of marriage and he still doesn’t know what you like!
“Yeah, I like doing it, so can you please try to hold back from cumming right away?” she asked.
He nodded as his eyes moved back to the TV. She accepted him inside her mouth and began to bob her head. This wasn’t the man she craved; but at the end of the day, she still yearned for a man. Tom would just have to do.
“Oh, shit…” he abruptly groaned.
You’ve got to be kidding me…
Her mouth began to fill with Tom’s semen.
“Fuck…” he moaned as the last of it shot out. “I’m sorry.”
She sat up and looked for a cup to spit his bitter seed into, but there weren’t any around. She’d thrown them all away. She was left with no other chance but to hustle up the stairs and spit his cum into the kitchen sink. She hurried to position her lips under the faucet to fill her mouth with water, rinsing and spitting in an attempt to cleanse her gums and tongue of that awful taste.
Fuck this.
She jogged up to her room, grabbed her phone, and texted Anthony. “Send me a picture of your cock.”
It didn’t take long for her phone to buzz in her hand; and just as she’d expected, this kid had quite the piece on him. Her phone swiftly vibrated again. This time, an eighteen or nineteen-year-old blonde had three inches of his dick in her mouth. The picture had been taken from the college stud’s point of view.
Jen sent him a text. “Looks like she could use some help.”
Her phone instantly buzzed. “Think you could do better?”
She opened her camera roll and found the picture of her with her favorite purple dildo lodged down her throat. She’d decided against sending it to him before, but she didn’t care anymore. She just wanted to impress someone worthy of her attention.
She sent it to him.
It didn’t take long for her phone to vibrate again. “Get your sexy ass over here. Briana could use some lessons.”
A mere eleven minutes was all that separated her from a confident college stud with a big cock. Kneeling in front of him was some cute blonde girl, playing with the very toy she so desperately craved. She’d never been with a woman before, but the idea of playing with one—especially a younger one—had her wet. And what if Anthony invited a friend over? What if she could have two big cocks? Maybe they would take turns with her? Or what if they ravished her at the same time? Oh my God, she could barely contain her excitement!
She slipped out of her nightie and hopped into a pair of jeans, threw on a hoodie over the t-shirt she’d just changed into, and headed downstairs. The cold metal feel of her keys pressed against her hand as she scooped them off the table and hustled out the front door. There wasn’t a hint of hesitation as she opened her car door and slid inside. The key found its way into the ignition and—
She stopped.
Turn it! Turn it and you can actually get what you want! Stop depriving yourself!
She stared at her dashboard for the next ninety seconds.
Sexy, young, fit people want to fuck your brains out! Isn’t that what you want? Why are you making this so hard on yourself?
She pulled the key out of the ignition, exited her car, and found herself back in the driveway. She angrily slammed the door shut behind her.
“YOU’RE SUCH A WIMP!” she screamed before storming up the blacktop and back into the house. She ran to her room and quickly found her vibrator. It would be yet another night of mediocre self-pleasure.
Chapter 8 – Sherbet
One Week Later. 5:59 PM.
The kitchen hummed a chaotic symphony of roaring blender blades tearing through ice. Jen removed the cup and unfastened the lid—her finger dipping into the cold, tasty treat below—and raised it to her lips. It wasn’t too icy; but at the same time, it wasn’t too watery. It was the perfect consistency. She found a container and dumped the pink substance inside before sealing it shut with a lid.
She grabbed her coat and headed over to her neighbor’s house on this chilly, dark evening. A particular man had been on her mind for the past week. The most difficult part was it’d been seven long days since she’d seen him, and she couldn’t go another hour without being in his presence. It was a little unsettling how much she missed him.
Ryan answered the door dressed in a pair of black dress pants, a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up his thick forearms, and a loosened baby blue tie around his neck. His choice in attire always caused her to melt.
“Hey, Jen. Come on in.”
She quickly stepped inside out of the cold, and raised a plastic container with a red lid to him. “I made you something.”
He curiously peered at the surprise before motioning her further into the house.
She kicked off her shoes and followed him into the kitchen. An open laptop and a cup of what appeared to be green tea were the only items on the table. How refreshing was it to see a man doing something other than playing video games? Ryan appeared to always be working or bettering himself, unlike Tom who spent all of his free time on childish activities.
“I made you some sherbet.”
“I don’t eat ice cream,” he told her.
“Oh, it’s not ice cream!” she quickly rebuffed. “It’s watermelon-coconut sherbet. All organic without any added sugar. It’s just watermelon and coconut milk!”
“And you made sherbet from that?” he asked.
She nodded excitedly. “Yeah, you wanna try some?”
“Sure,” he said before walking over to a cabinet. He returned with two small bowls and a pair of spoons.
Set the container down on the table, and dished a generous amount into each bowl. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this nervous. What if he hated it? What if he thought it was gross? What if he laughed at her idea of dessert?
Relax…
She watched him gather a small amount of the creamy substance with his spoon before raising it to his mouth. Her heart pounded as he wrapped his lips around the steel eating utensil. It was no secret that she desperately sought his approval.
He looked at her again, this time furrowing his brow. “You made this?”
Jen nervously nodded.
A few moments of silence passed before he announced, “This is amazing.”
She almost shouted with excitement. He thought it was amazing! Every part of her wanted to hug him, but she did her best to control herself. “Really?”
“Yeah, how’d you get it so smooth?” Ryan inquired.
“Well, after I initially blend it, I freeze it, then run it through a blender again, freeze it, and then blend it one last time,” she revealed her secret. “The more times it goes through the blender, the creamier it gets.”
He took another big spoonful and slipped it into his mouth. “This tastes exactly like sherbet, but it’s healthy?”
“One hundred percent,” she smiled before indulging in a spoonful from her own bowl.
“This is phenomenal,” he said, helping himself to a big helping.
She blushed and pointed at the container on the table. “That’s yours to keep, and just let me know if you want more!” She picked up the Tupperware and carried it over to the freezer to place it inside. “Is there anything else you need?”
He gave his kitchen a quick once-over with his eyes. “There’s always something around here that needs to be done…”
Thirty Minutes Later.
She feverishly scrubbed the hardwoo
d kitchen floor with a sponge, dressed head to toe in the same maid outfit she’d worn last week. Next to her was a yellow bucket containing a mix of water and vinegar. Ryan had walked through the kitchen and caught her eye a few times, but he never stopped to look or talk to her. Was she really doing this for his approval at this point? Was this her way of trying to submit to him? She was so confused.
She was a registered nurse who spent forty hours a week caring for the sick and elderly without much appreciation. She then came home to a husband she didn’t respect, took care of all the household chores, and handled the cooking every night. Her schedule was busy enough. Nothing was adding up. Why was she doing this?
Did you ever think that maybe you aren’t capable of being happy? There are people out there like that, you know? People who feel like they’re always missing out on something no matter what happens. Look in the mirror, sister. That’s you.
No, I’ve been happy before! I was happy with Bill. Well, at least most of the time. And I was happy with Tom at the beginning…kind of. Shit! I’m not one of those people, am I? I can be happy! I’m happy now! Wait, why am I happy now? Because I’m cleaning my neighbor’s kitchen floor? What’s wrong with me?
“I think you got that spot.”
Her head perked up to see Ryan standing just a few feet from her. “Huh?”
“That spot,” he repeated while pointing at the floor. “I think you got it.”
Jen glanced down and girlishly giggled. She’d been scrubbing the same three inch space for God knows how long, while attempting to understand exactly what she was doing. Her seductive efforts to expose her cleavage in Ryan’s direction went for not. He simply filled up his glass, and headed back into the living room without acknowledging her outfit.
Shit!
Fifteen Minutes Later.
The dirty water disappeared down the drain, signaling the end of a job well done. There was still a sense of disbelief when it came to what she’d done. Not only had she willingly put on the maid outfit she was currently wearing, but she’d skipped upstairs with a childlike excitement to get dressed. Just being in the same house as Ryan was enough to bring an unrivaled energy into her life.
