by Matt Tims
She was starting to see his point.
“Back to marriage,” he said while gulping down the last bite of his dinner. “Sure, a wedding ring is meant to symbolize love and commitment, but do you honestly believe that? Look, you shouldn’t have to show that you truly love someone with a piece of metal on your hand. You should show it with your actions in everyday life. Not with gifts, or presents, or any that stuff, but with the way you treat that person. I think too many people use that ring as a way to lie to themselves that they’re in some kind of commitment.”
“Marriage is a commitment,” she voiced.
“Agreed, but you can’t be in a commitment if you aren’t truly committed,” he said. “You show commitment by your actions, not by what you wear.”
“And where does Genghis Khan come into this again?” she asked with a slight smirk.
“The fuck if I know,” he laughed, standing up to carry his plate to the sink. He was starting to realize just how mixed-up he’d gotten in his different tangents.
She shook her head, taking another small bite of her dinner. Her appetite wasn’t there today as is, and now her son had her thinking about all kinds of different things. The entire day just felt overwhelming.
“I’m gonna head over to Kyle’s, and then we’re going to a party tonight. That’s cool, right?”
“Where’s the party?” she asked.
“It’s actually only a few minutes from here,” he told her, pointing toward the backyard. “It’s like four streets that way. Sanders Drive.”
She knew where that was, but she still had her concerns like always. “Who’s driving?”
“Doug,” he answered. “He doesn’t drink.”
She liked the fact that one of his friends wasn’t a drinker so there was always a sober driver, but she still wasn’t a fan of her son going out as much as he did. But this is what high school kids did. She couldn’t shelter her little boy forever.
“Okay, but don’t overdo it,” she sharply told him.
He grabbed his car keys and headed for the front door. “I won’t. Thanks, Mom.”
Jen sat all alone at the table, pondering the discussion she’d just had with her only child. Who was she really committed to? Mike or her ring? Why was she honoring a man who wouldn’t piss on her if she was on fire? She suddenly had some serious thinking to do.
Chapter 4 – A Last-Ditch Effort
Jen finished adjusting her hair before leaning forward to check her makeup in the mirror. Everything looked perfect. Her blonde hair flowed down past her shoulders, but she’d put the front in bangs that came down past her eyebrows and dangled just above her eyes. This was the exact hairstyle that drove Mike wild early in their relationship.
She couldn’t help but laugh at what she was doing. She really was pulling out all the stops to prove to herself that her marriage could still work, wasn’t she? All of this seemed rather desperate.
She stepped back to observe herself in the skimpy two-piece white lace lingerie set she’d bought almost a year ago. The plan was to surprise Mike with it during their most recent anniversary, but like everything else over the past few years, it hadn’t worked out. Her sexy outfit had never even made an appearance.
The bra exposed plenty of cleavage, and the panties had a thong backside that showed off every inch of her plump butt. She slipped into a pair of white six inch stiletto heels and grinned. No red-blooded man could possibly say no to her. Her black silk robe would hide the sultry surprise she had in store for the man she still called her husband. Now, all she could do was journey downstairs and wait.
The garage door finally opened as the clock struck ten, causing her to excitedly greet Mike with a big kiss on his lips after the front door opened and he stepped inside the house. There wasn’t anyway this wouldn’t work.
“Not tonight,” he groaned while brushing past her advances and tossing his briefcase down on the kitchen table. His long-sleeve dress shirt possessed a coffee stain on the front, and his tie was loosened around his neck.
“Long day?” she asked.
He shot her a dismissive look. He was just arriving home at almost ten o’clock on a Friday night. She couldn’t figure that one out for herself?
Jen watched as he moved toward the stairs without answering her question.
“So, I was thinking…” she said, hustling behind him and following him up to their bedroom. “Brett’s out so we have the whole house to ourselves.”
“Good, it’ll be nice and quiet,” Mike commented while throwing his tie on the floor. His fingers swiftly began unbuttoning his shirt.
“I had something else in mind,” she whispered in his ear, running her soft finger along his shoulder, and down to his bicep.
He pushed her hand away in an annoyed fashion. “Listen, I’ve been up since six this morning, okay? I just want to take a shower and go to bed.”
Her eyes trailed him walking out into the hallway for the bathroom. This wasn’t how tonight would go. She was done taking no for an answer, and she would sit her butt down on the edge of the bed and patiently wait for him to finish his shower. One way or another, she was getting her way.
Mike was awfully confused by the sight he was greeted with when he strolled back into the bedroom ten minutes later, wearing only a pair of white underwear. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting,” she said with a smile.
“Well, you’re going to have to wait a while longer, because I’m going to bed.” He slid under the covers and rested his head on his fluffy pillow.
Her patience was running thin.
“Stop it. Stop it, Jen!” Mike firmly told her as she began to tug at the blankets. She’d finally managed to yank all the sheets off the mattress after a bit of a struggle. “Jen!”
“Shut up!” she yelled before crawling over to his side of the bed, pulling his underwear down around his ankles. “Do you know how many times we’ve had sex in the past year, Michael?”
She stared at him. It wasn’t a rhetorical question. She was waiting for an answer.
“Um…probably…uh…” he stammered, knowing the answer would be significantly lower than it should’ve been.
“Three!” she shouted. “We’ve had sex three times in twelve months! Guess what I saw when I was at the store today, Michael?”
“I don’t know,” he answered timidly.
“Fat women!” she revealed. “Not just fat women, but obese women! They were everywhere. Young, old, white, black: it didn’t matter. Do you know what I’m not?”
“Fat…” Mike responded.
She propped herself onto her knees and removed her robe. “Exactly!”
He knew that he should be turned on. He knew that he should be attracted to someone who looked the way his wife did, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t explain why his sex drive had tanked so much over the past few years either. His testosterone levels had all come back normal from the tests his doctor ran last summer, and he wasn’t on any type of medication. He just felt an unexplainable inner-disgust whenever he looked at her.
Jen glanced down to observe his limp penis. It hadn’t moved an inch despite the sexy outfit she was modeling for him. She didn’t care anymore. She dove down and wrapped her lips around his flaccid cock, eager to bring it to life.
“I don’t think that’s going to work tonight,” he said, continuing to watch her rapidly bob up and down on his soft manhood.
Tonight? How about this month? Or this year? They were either going to have sex tonight, or she would take matters into her own hands.
Several minutes passed before she sat back on the bed and looked down at the lost cause in front of her, finally conceding to nature.
“You know what?” she smiled. “How about you take care of me?”
Mike wasn’t following. “Take care of you?”
She grinned as she laid flat on her back and began to slide her panties down.
“No, no, no…” he waved his hand dismissively. “I’m definitely not in the mo
od for that today. Plus, you know I don’t like doing that anyway.”
She let out a deep breath and sighed, “So, no sex, no oral…how about we talk?”
If she couldn’t get what she wanted sexually, then she was at least hoping the man she loved could give her what she needed emotionally and mentally. It didn’t feel like she was asking for too much to expect that from her husband.
“Talk?” Mike questioned in an almost demeaning manor.
“Yeah, talk,” she confirmed while rolling over onto her side to look at him.
“Um…about what?” he awkwardly asked with his eyes staring straight-ahead.
She reached out and softly stroked his hand, desperate to revive the bond they once shared. “Let’s hear about your day.”
“My day?”
“Yeah, it seems like you were busy,” she said. “What were you up to?”
“Well, the new guy took it upon himself to do some coding without checking with anyone, and completely screwed up the system,” he groaned. “So, I spent the entire day rewriting the shit he changed.”
“Um…” she tried to buy some time, forgetting that the conversations with Mike were a lot tougher than those with her son. “So, what was that like?”
“What was what like?” he asked. “The coding? You want me to explain coding to you?”
It finally clicked for her: he didn’t find her attractive physically, he didn’t seem to like her as a person, and they had literally nothing to talk about. What Brett had said at dinner applied to her. She was one of those women in a committed marriage only because she wore a ring, not because she was in love.
Mike could feel that this conversation was going nowhere. “Can we try doing this tomorrow? I just really can’t tonight.”
She nodded, knowing that tomorrow wouldn’t be any different from tonight. She watched him place a sleeping pill into his mouth and wash it down with some water from a glass on his nightstand.
“And I want to sleep in tomorrow, so please try to keep it down in the morning,” he added.
She rolled out of bed and sighed, “You got it,” before turning off the bedroom light and slipping into her bathrobe. She tossed her heels onto the floor, and took a quick glance back before exiting the room. Her marriage was dead. There was no reviving long lost feelings when there wasn’t a hint of feelings left. That man hated her guts, and it’d taken her three years to finally realize it.
Her unbelievable amount of pent-up sexual frustration took a backseat to the horrid realization that her marriage was a lie. She slowly sulked downstairs and back into the living room where she sat down on the sofa to think. What was the point of all this?
Chapter 5 – Chuck Norris Shots
She glanced at the clock: one minute to midnight. The television was on but she wasn’t watching. It was just background noise while she sat all alone with her thoughts—the strongest of which involved her attempting to figure out what she would do when Brett went off to college. There was no way she could live alone with just Mike, but her inner-struggle was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.
She shot out of her seat and dashed for the front door in a panic, her robe whipping behind her as she ran. Brett was out drinking with his friends, it was midnight, and the doorbell had just rang. Nothing good could possibly come as a result of those three things. Had he gotten into a car accident? Was there a fight at the party that resulted in her baby being seriously injured? A million terrifying scenarios ran through her mind as she opened the door.
“Hey, Mrs. K,” Kyle greeted her with a grin. He stood to her right and Tom stood to her left. In between them—being held up by his two friends—was Brett.
“Jesus Christ!” she shook her head as she attempted to help them drag her passed out son into the house. “I told him not to overdo it!”
“That lasted like twenty minutes,” Kyle laughed, visibly buzzed from whatever amount of drinking he’d partaken in.
“And what about you?” she asked, glancing at Tom who had a distant stare in his eyes. It was the look of someone who was on the verge of being drunk. “Oh my God, you didn’t drive, did you!?”
“I’m-I’m fi-fine, Mrs. K,” he stammered while doing his best to avoid eye contact with her.
Jen grabbed Tom’s chin with her hand and turned his head to her. His eyes were glassy and he was struggling to stand still. Another beer or two and he would be just as buzzed as Kyle.
“I’m gonna lose my fuckin’ mind,” she announced, closing her eyes in an attempt to maintain her composure. “Get him up to his room.”
She followed behind them, carefully watching as they tossed Brett onto his bed once they entered his room. She made sure to roll him onto his side before moving some pillows to his rear to prevent him from ending up on his back or stomach. How’d this happened? He’d promised her that he wouldn’t overdo it!
“Exactly how much did he have to drink?” she asked.
“He was fine when I left him, but he was completely tanked when I saw him like twenty minutes later,” Kyle told her.
“They were doing Chuck Norris shots, bro,” Tom giggled as he took a seat on the bed next to his blacked out friend. “I helped myself to a few as well.”
She was upset and baffled at the same time. “What in the world is a Chuck Norris shot?”
“One shot Cherry Vodka and two shots Energy Drink. It’s strong but sweet, just like Chuck Norris,” Tom laughed before standing up and attempting to give her a light, drunken roundhouse kick to her hip.
She reached out and caught his foot, cracking a slight smile as the drunken teen who already had a difficult enough time standing straight, was now hopping around on one foot—trying not to fall.
“Downstairs… Now!” she scolded them before letting go of Tom’s leg.
Jen followed the pair down the steps and to the living room sofa where they both took a seat.
“Where’s Doug?” she inquired.
“He got a ride home with some chick,” Kyle answered.
Tom gave his friend a fist bump. “Nice.”
She could only shake her head. Some designated driver he was. “Give me your keys,” she demanded with her hand out.
Tom placed his keys in her palm.
She glared at her son’s friends. What was wrong with the men in her life? “Do you two have any idea how fucking stupid you are?”
“I’ve been told,” Kyle smirked.
“Hey, 2.0 GPA right here, lady,” Tom laughed as he raised his hands in the air in mock celebration.
“You four idiots not only got accepted into college, but you all somehow got scholarships,” she went on with her berating of the pair. “So, you go out and party, and whatever, that’s not the end of the world. But then you all get into a car and drive drunk? Forget about getting pulled over. What if you would’ve hit someone?”
“I’m telling you, Mrs. K, I’m not drunk,” Tom argued.
“I can smell the booze on you from here!” she loudly rejected his statement. “And you’re eighteen years old! It doesn’t matter if you’re drunk or not. You can’t have a drop of alcohol in you while you’re behind the wheel!”
Jen looked off to the side and tried to relax. She couldn’t wait to give Brett a piece of her mind when he woke up in the morning. That sleeping pill better have knocked Mike out, because she was going to tee off on her son—loudly.
“I like that.”
She turned back to the couch and asked, “Excuse me?”
“I said that I like that,” Kyle repeated, pointing at her head.
She didn’t have a clue as to what he was referring to. “Like what?”
“Your hair,” he smiled softly with an almost puzzled expression on his face. “You’ve never worn it like that before, have you?”
“We’re not talking about my hair right now,” she told him. “We’re talking about you getting behind the whe—”
Kyle cut her off as he looked over at Tom, “Have you ever seen her wi
th bangs before?”
“Don’t think so,” Tom answered, now peering at her with a slight smile of his own. “It looks good.”
“It looks better than good,” Kyle added. “You should wear it like that more often.”
“Well, thank you,” she smiled, completely changing her tone as a result of the compliment. “It’s nice that someone likes it.”
Kyle and Tom exchanged confused glances before turning their attention back to their friend’s mom.
“Just-just-just…” she stuttered, placing her palm on her worried cheek. “You know what? I’m just happy you’re all safe,” she sighed before walking over to an empty chair and sitting down. “I’m just not having a very good day is all.”
“What’s wrong?” Kyle asked in a genuinely concerned manner.
“I just…I…nothing,” Jen smiled at him. “You two are staying here tonight. Here’s the remote, and I’ll go grab you some blankets and pillows.”
Tom had a question while Kyle was busy searching for something to watch on the TV. “Hey, Mrs. K, is it cool if we maybe use the pool real quick?”
It was still hot out and a dip in the pool sounded pretty tempting. Hey, there was nothing like a little late-night swim. If only these two hadn’t shown up…
“Do you think you’re sober enough to stay afloat?” she joked.
“I think we can manage,” Tom responded with a sarcastic grin.
Mike’s sleeping pill would have him completely knocked out until the morning, and Brett was beyond blackout drunk. It wasn’t like these two would disturb anyone. “Sure, go ahead.”
She finally found the blankets and pillows she was looking for after a few minutes of digging around in the upstairs hallway closet. She took a quick peek in on her son to make sure he was still doing okay, and decided to pass on checking on Mike. A pile of shorts and t-shirts were waiting for her on the floor when she arrived back in the living room, and she didn’t have to look outside to know that Tom and Kyle were already in the pool.
