He smiled up at me and pointed for me to take the seat across from him, which I did.
“Candis told me that you would eventually accuse me of cheating on you,” he explained.
“So, this Candis is the whore you are fucking??” I demanded.
He smiled again and I badly wanted to slap that smile off his face.
“Candis is a licensed family therapist who I’ve been seeing for almost two years. Ever since I found out.”
“Found out what??” I demanded.
“Found out about your lovers,” he said, looking straight at me with a grim expression.
I felt as if all the blood left my body as I listened to my husband’s reply.
“How long have you known?” I whispered.
“I would like to say that I knew from the start, but I am sure I didn’t.” He looked down. “I knew something was up when, after only agreeing to sex once or twice a month for years, you suddenly started seducing me twice on Fridays, three times on Saturdays and Sundays, and even made love to me on Monday morning before leaving for work.” Erick’s eyes were red and moist. “My counselor helped me to see that your suddenly uncharacteristic behavior could be a sign that you were cheating, so I decided to hire a private detective to track your activities while traveling for work.”
“Why? Why, didn’t you try to stop it, or??? Or??? Well, at least, confront me? Or divorce me, or something?” I said, confused, nearly hyperventilating, and not knowing what to do.
Erick wouldn’t look at me. I could see how much the confrontation was hurting him. His voice was shaking and there were tears dripping down his cheeks as he answered me. “I didn’t want to lose you. That’s why I went to counseling and asked for reasons to stay married to you.”
Chapter Eight: Erick’s story
I have a poor self-image largely due to being beaten throughout my childhood, starting at eight years old, and continuing well into my teen years, by my stepfather.
Every time I tried to stand up for myself, he would beat me even worse than before. The beatings affected the development of my manhood.
The beatings continued until I started to grow taller than him. At about eighteen years of age, right out of high school, I went to work. I tried to move out of home, but making minimum wage and only working forty hours a week was not conducive to being self-supporting.
I was slinging hash at a restaurant when Kate started working there as a waitress. She was very pretty, and she seemed to look my way often. It took a lot of non-verbal encouragement from her before I gathered the courage to ask her out for the first time.
I was living in an efficiency apartment, which was essentially a motel room with a stove and refrigerator in it. I really didn’t like it, but it was better than living with my stepfather.
For those wondering why my mother never saved me from the tyrant, she was too busy prancing around in designer dresses, and advancing her career, to ever notice me. I think that I was just an inconvenience to her.
For our first date, I took Kate out to breakfast after her shift. After our fourth date, Kate told me that she would like to see my apartment. Of course, I was embarrassed to have her see how I lived, but she wouldn’t take ‘No’ for an answer.
When we arrived at my efficiency apartment, Kate took it in stride and walked right in. Even though it was small, at least I kept it clean and tidy.
Kate came to me right away and kissed me. She ripped my shirt open and pulled it off over my shoulders. Her scorching looks told me that my tiny apartment was the last thing on her mind. We made it to the bed, and both helped her to undress.
I wasn’t very experienced, having only been with one girl who, by reputation, was one of the high school’s “cherry pickers”. Sex with her wasn’t very fulfilling, and I didn’t really enjoy it. I was nearly sick when I discovered how bad her pussy smelled.
So, as Kate and I got naked, I feared her reeking as badly as the “cherry picker”. However, when I finally got her pants off, I was amazed at the sweet aroma emanating from between her legs. In the past, every time someone mentioned eating pussy, I would think of my first time and almost get sick but, as I succumbed to the sweet scent of Kate’s arousal, my mouth salivated.
With no experience, I had no idea what I was doing down there, but I had to taste her. She offered herself to me and I accepted. Not knowing where to lick, kiss, or suck, I just tried to taste her, and she tasted good. I didn’t want to stop eating her pussy, it was so delicious, but I eventually moved up and mounted her missionary-style.
Since I have an abnormally long cock, I discovered that it would not go in all the way. Not wanting to be selfish, I started shallow strokes in and out of her. Her moans were music to my ears as I continued to pleasure her inside my small, cramped motel room.
As we continued to fuck, I was surprised when my cock suddenly went deeper into her, and I discovered that I could fit my entire length inside her pussy.
She screamed in orgasm as she felt my cock press against her cervix. I was in heaven watching this woman repeatedly come under me. I came a short time later.
After succumbing to our orgasms, we laid in the bed together. I was filled with love for Kate.
For the next few weeks, Kate visited my small apartment daily, and we chit-chatted and made love.
Between us, we didn’t have a lot of money but, for the first time ever, despite the way that I’d been raised, I wanted to improve myself and be a better, more successful person for her. So I swallowed all my self-pity, put all the torture and beatings in my rearview mirror, and enrolled at a community college.
I studied day and night, still worked slinging hash, and spent wonderful nights with Kate. Kate worked too and, using both our incomes, we moved to a one-bedroom apartment that was far more comfortable than my small efficiency apartment.