Out of his League part two

First off, I hope you read the first part of this long session of mine. It is like my therapy. Its ok that no one seems to have any advise for me, I will figure this situation out all by my lonesome and besides, it is a good way for me to vent.

It is Tuesday, and so far, Stacy, my wife has had to work late both Monday and Tuesday. Now that has me worried because she never had to work late in all the years we have been together. Now my mind is going wild. Does she have a guy on the side? the other thing is, although she didn’t seem to be drunk, she smelled like gin, or something else familiar. Secrets take a toll on a marriage. I know, I have a feeling she is keeping a few herself.

I am at that age, the age where it is not too late to start over if I have too, need to, must. I only hope that she doesn’t hide so much from me that there is no turning back. I mean, I hope if she is hiding something from me that would end the relationship, she doesn’t wait until I am too old to find someone.

My wife has always been an open masturbatory person. She asks me if I am in the mood but if I am too tired from work to have sex, I know what she would do. She tells me. “I’m heading for the tub.” She can do it anywhere and everywhere without any inhibitions. She simply loves the pleasure among others. She has done it in front of me and as far as I know, she would not go as far as to expose herself as an exhibitionist for all to see. I really enjoy her doing that when she feels the need. Her pleasure is my pleasure. I have dabbled with the thought that she might be a sex addict but so far she has shown normal signs of a healthy women. We do have sex regulary so I am sure she is pleased in that department. It is just me, my thoughts running ramped.

She seems to be a different person now from when we were first married. She seemed to be shy and content but these days, their is something different about Stacy, something going on. It is as if she went through some kind of awakening.

Out of his League

My wife is like any other I guess. She wears jeans around the home, works a nine to five job to help out, and she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen which is why I have this dilemma. Oh sure, it may be easier looking in from your position, but from where I sit it is indeed a problem, for me at least. We have been married for five years now and have settled many differences so we are now at a comfort level we can both live with.

Stacy, my wife, the quiet, tall blond that gets compliments from all who survey. I am five years older the she, I am twenty seven and she twenty two. We argue about it all the time and I usually lose. If we are to be equals than I must learn to trust her, she always says. I do trust her with all of my heart but I still can’t help think if she is playing me for the fool.

I know I haven’t told my story to you as of yet, but I will. The thing of it is, if I tell people, they might tell me what I don’t want to believe. I am very skeptical of people. If I do tell, who knows what some of the guys I know will try and do. Maybe I am being paranoid but maybe I am not.

We both work, Stacy and I. We both clean the house, cook the meals and get tired. We did agree on one night of the week for alone time. I spend my alone time out with the guys and she out with the girls so she says. This is where we argue a lot. I head out on Thursdays to play poker, her night is Fridays. You don’t see a problem yet, because that’s not a problem, this is. I am wondering, no, more than wondering, obsessed, angry, and emotional on what is really going on.

When I go out, on my night, I simply head over to my buddies house to play cards. When she heads out, I can only watch as she gets ready. Her smile is huge as she rolls on those black silk stockings with matching pumps complete with garter belts. I did question her one time and her answer was that she needed to feel feminine and she also needed to compete with her gal pals when it came to her femininity. Ok, I never brought that up again because it made sense. I was just over reacting because my beauty was not going to be with me and she looked smoking hot. She then puts on that same dress every time. The color will change but the theme remains the same. No back, low cut showing off her twins and very sleek and sheer. The dress is long enough but still above the knee with a slit up the side and always complimenting pumps. The makeup is heavier than usual and although she never wears ruby red, her lips are never without on her Friday nights out with the girls.

She is ready. She walks over to me and places her hand on my shoulder and always says, “I wont be too late but get some sleep.” She claims she would kiss me but doesn’t want to mess up her lips. She has a different aura about her as she heads towards the front door, more confidant, more sensual, actually happier then I have seen her when she is just playing wife to yours truly.

Its always the same. I pretend to be asleep as she walks in the bedroom at three or four in the morning smelling like smoke, booze and that worries me. The smile is still there, she is a little tipsy, well hell, sometimes outright drunk, and she actually does a little strip tease as she undresses folding her close carefully as if to thank them for making her look so good. She than heads into the bathroom and spends about a half an hour and if I listen hard I can almost hear her talking as if she were on the phone. She walks back into our bedroom and lays in bed. I usually fall asleep and I assume she does too.

So, that’s about it, am I just being paranoid? I mean, I go out with the guys and I don’t make it a night of lust so why should I assume she does?

Our sex life is a private and sacred thing so I wont plaster details on here but I will say we have a good one. Maybe if she weren’t so perfect, so hot, so sexy, so model like. Am I just obsessing on something that is in my imagination only? i don’t want to believe that she is cheating on me because I do trust her fully but I have seen many a women drunk in my life and they have been known to flirt and even cling to me. I do turn them all down but does my wife? I need feedback, please, I will trust your judgment so please help. Is she cheating on me or am I just overreacting. I am not going to pretend I know women so well, no man knows what is going through the mind of a woman. I am a realist. I know women as well as men have a few secrets, that’s just life. Please help me in understanding my situation better, I am begging here.

I am going to post updates but please feedback.

Here is the latest. Yesterday, Friday, just came and went. I am more obsessed than ever with this, my situation if I even have one. Ok, I decided to wave my night out with the guys and sat in my car down the street. I sat for hours watching my house. I didn’t know what to expect, well, I guess I was waiting for my wife to be scantily clad running from the house jumping in some guys car but she didn’t and when it was time for me to be home, she was sitting in the bathroom talking on the phone. So I was wrong. Last night was the same old same old. She went on her night out this time showing more than I would like her too but she did her usual, am air kiss and a swift departure. I waited by the window and the taxi dropped her off at three thirty in the morning. I could tell by the way she was staggering ont the front porch that she was drunk, very to say the least. I ran upstairs to our bedroom and pretended to be asleep. I waited as she did her dance in front of the mirror, and the bathroom phone call. When she finally came to bed I pretended to wake. I asked her if she had been drinking and she admitted that she did drink some which I had no problem with because she is an adult. I pretended to yawn and wipe the sleep from my eyes. “So, did you have fun tonight?” I asked, Oh yeah, it was truly one of the best nights ever.” she replied as she giggled as if she just told an inside joke. “You want to share?” I asked, she said, “Nothing to share, we gossiped all night and made martini’s, boring to say the least.” With that said, I rolled over and stared at the walls until I fell asleep. Maybe there is nothing to all of this. Should I have pressed her more on issues bothering me, should I give her the third degree? I am waiting for someone to enlighten me because when it comes to women, I am just not that smart. First thing, when she tells me it was one of the best nights ever and then tells me it was boring, what am I supposed to think?

Update Feb 8th
Sunday and we had our annual Super Bowl Party. There was about seven of my friends here and their wives who managed to set up in the kitchen armed with beer, and vodka, and were chatting away while the boys watched the Saints march in. My wife is not an alcoholic, she only drinks when we have special occasions like the super bowl and her gals nights. I was hoping for her to get blitzed so we can continue our talk. Since no one has yet given me advise I am going to keep doing what I am doing wrong or right.

Me: So, you seemed to have had fun, at least if the liquor is any indication.

Misty: Yeah, it was a good party.

Me: What did you gals talk about, or is that a secret us guys are not allowed to hear?

Misty: We just talked about life, you know, wife stuff.

Me: Come on, wife stuff, all that booze wasted on wife chatter?

Misty: Yeah, we had fun, so how was the game?

Me: Great, I only hope you were able to talk with all the racket we were making.

Misty: Yeah, we were just fine and had loads of fun.

Me: Listening to a bunch of routy men cheering couldn’t have been that much fun for you unless you like that sort of thing.

Misty: Depends on what they are cheering about. men are men, they will always have something to cheer about.

Me: Yes, guys tend to cheer for what they like, favorite team, hot women, you know.

Misty: Yeah, they need that I guess.

Me: Yes, some men cheer while others take what they need, well, when they like what they see, you know I mean cheering for.

Misty: Well, men can be aggressive, us women, well we are petite little flowers.

Me: Meant to be picked, they love when they are picked.

Misty: I guess it is the attention, the flattery, you know.

Me: So, how many time have you been picked? Just knowing how the attention makes you feel.

Misty: No, wait, not me, other women and no we weren’t talking about those types of men at all tonight.

Me: What types did you talk about?

Misty: We were talking about female things, you would never understand.

Me: I guess, I am going to clean up and I will see you upstairs.

Misty, I will probably be asleep when you get up there.

Me: ok, pleasant dreams, nothing too naughty I hope.

Misty: He, where ever my dreams take me.

Ok, that’s it for today.

Updated, Feb 9th

I called her at her job and one of her co workers said she went out to lunch with a few of the others. I named a few of her friends at work but the person refused to say, well she wouldn’t say directly. She just said, “I didn’t see them leave but she said she would be an hour or so.” Ok, innocent until proven guilty,

It is like I don’t know her anymore. Like she has her live at home with me and another life outside of the home. By the lack of people giving me advise, I can only guess, the women reading this wont answer to protect their own, and the guys, well they just are as clueless, as I am.

I just don’t know anymore. At home she seems to want to cover up, jeans, sweats, baggy tops, at work, or hanging out with friends, dressed to the nines showing off all her assets. I tried something tonight. We were lounging after dinner, the television was on and we were watching a movie, so far so good right well, I already looked at the guide and the movie that came on after was rated adult so just before the movie we were watching was over I told her I was heading up to bed because I was beat. When we are together, she always makes me turn the adult movies because she says, we don’t need to be watching that fake stuff. When I headed up, the movie ended and I just waited to see if she would come up after but nope, she sat and watched the adult flick. I was watching from the staircase for a while. It seems that she was more interested in that one then when we were watching the regular movie. I give up. I guess I will just have to figure this out on my own. I am planning something great for this Friday. Can’t wait to see what happens when she gets home from her girls night out. If she is drunk as she was last week, we shall see what gives. I also know she is way out of my league. I was warned she was high maintenance, but when I married her she was down to earth. Please respond, I am feeling so alone right about now.

Cassandra Part 4

Cassie panics staring at her blood filled hands. She has no idea what had taken place and with that in mind she could indeed be a killer. She runs out of that car and towards her home. She runs up the stairs and into the bathroom. She showers off the blood and leans her head back letting the hot water cascade down her body trying to remember something, anything.

Cassie steps out of the shower onto a towel she placed on the floor. She dries off and puts on a robe. She heads down and tries to wake Ted again but he just wouldn’t. Cassie whispers to herself, “He must have been drugged or something. She hears a very light tap at the door. She walks over and sees that its her neighbor Bob. She lets him inside and tells him she cannot wake Ted up. Bob tries, but fails. He picks up the drink by Teds table and sniffs it. “Drugged.” He turns to Cass and says, “We need to talk.” The two walk to the kitchen and Cass starts to make a pot of tea. Bob says, “Listen, you must have something stronger around this dump.” Cass opens a cabinet and pulls out a very expensive bottle of Napoleon Brandy. “Now you are talking my language.” Bob said with a smile as wide as a city street. “It is for special occasions” Cass answered as she poured them a huge glass.

The two talked for a while trying to figure out what was going on.

“Cass, what the hell is going on around here?”

I don’t really know myself Bob.

Just then they saw a red light flashing down the street. They get up and look through the window and see the police roping off the corner.

“They found him.”

“Found who Cass, found who?”

They walk back to the dining room and pour another.

“I don’t know, there was this guy, last thing I remembered was his fist heading for my face and I woke up in a car on that corner with a dead guy.”

Bob noticed that the two had polished off the whole bottle. Cass was drunk and not making much sence when she spoke. Bob was feeling good, pretty good. He places his hand on hers and looks into her eyes and says, “Listen, we need to start trusting each other if we want to get through this. I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you.”

“Look, Bob, I am a good wife to Ted. I am a good girl and would never do anything to hurt him or anyone else for that matter; at least I don’t think I would.”

Come on, Cass, a dead guy, Ted on the sofa unconscious, you sitting here with your neighbor drunk. It just doesn’t make any sense to me at all. You need to fill in some of the blanks here. You need to be straight with me like what you are doing with men in expensive restaurants dressed sexy, wigs, what the hell is going on?”

“So, you think I am sexy huh?”

“Come on Cassie, any man would kill to be with you.”

“Any man? You perhaps?”

“Look, this is not the time or place for this conversation.”

Bob leans in as the conversation slows down. “I just need to hear that once in a while.” Cassie said. “Well I am telling you that I have always found you to be a very sensual woman.” Bob says as the two move closer together as if nothing else existed. No Ted, No dead guy, no cops, just the two of them ready to kiss for the first time and finally that moment came.

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Personally Speaking

I am not a complicated white male.  I am however slightly over weight but willing to work out soon.  Procrastinator, very handsome they tell me, and all my parts still work. 

I am looking for a rich older woman who will respect me for who I am and in return, receive my full devotion along with my heart.  Willing to relocate fast for the right woman.  I am not picky; any woman will do with the right financial arrangements.  I am willing to compromise on weight, age, and breast size but not gender.  I am also very understanding to a woman’s needs and feelings.  Smokers, drinkers,  low self esteem, needy and sex addicts encouraged to reply. 

Must pay off a wife whom I am still married to, take care any outstanding bills that may have incurred during my life with the same said woman to make me even less of a non complicated white male.

There you have it, I am not a complicated man at all so any takers?

Master and the Peasant Girl

The peasant lass was called to her masters quarters.  She stands before him bewildered, and curtsies, wondering why he beckons her.

“Let me take thy long look at you before I cast sentences on your fate.” 

A worried look casts upon her vagrant yet beautiful face.  She stays silent waiting on his words pondering the hush.  She has no idea what is about to be.

“You dare to defy, to heedlessly toss away thy rulings of this land.  Yours is not to do with what you wish, but to do with what you are told.  You are not like any other, you do not obey anything that is put forth before you and for this you must be dealt with copiously, with swift justice.” 

He sends his guards out of the room leaving just the two standing face to face.  He walks closer towards her taking sword from hip, laying it down in front of her.  He stoops on bended knee and bows and stands again taking her in his arms.

“But sir, thou are confusing me now.” 

“No my dear, thy lust for you rides along side thy love for you and together we can be as one.” 

“Oh but sire, I am but a mere peasant girl, one who does not comply, you said these words from masters own mouth did thy spill, and if I may sir, not one falsehood slipped from thy tongue.”  

“No my dearest, despite your spiritedness, is why my heart desires. Only you can fulfill my every need, my every want. Tis you who are different is why it can only be you.”  

Together they walk out of the chamber and into the hallowed halls.  Every man was envious and every woman resentful.  The master was happy for the first time in his life.  He walks her to the sitting room where he calls for his servant girl.

“Fetch us some tea and biscuits with the speed of lightning for today we celebrate.” 

The servant girl brings them their tea and sets the bread in the center of the table.  The master’s new bride takes a drink from her cup, just a sip when she falls dead to the floor.  The master rushes to her and knew she would never to wake again.  He looks at his servant girl walks over to her looks her in her empty eyes.

“You have served me well, I always found beheading to be so barbaric, and this way was so much more humane.”

“Yes sire, she just didn’t know her place and was not one to learn.”

Cassandra (Part Three)

Cass stood speechless and shaking nervously all over.  He grabs her by the shoulders and starts yelling, “What the hell did he do”, over and over.  In what seemed like less then a second, Cassie opened her eyes and the shaking stopped.  She looked around the dark room and then jumped out of bed, she runs down the stairs and sees Ted fast asleep on the sofa and walked to the bathroom.  She poured cold water on her sweaty face and took a good look at herself in the mirror.  She went back to her bedroom and laid down clutching the covers between her legs and in her teeth.   She took a deep breath and let out a huge sigh. “It was only a dream; maybe the guilt is getting to me.”  Just ten the phone rings.  She looks at it, then remembering that Ted was asleep; she quickly picks it up and whispers, “Hello?” 

“Hello, Cassie, it’s me, Bob.” 

“Bob, are you crazy, do you know what time it is?  Are you drunk?”

“That doesn’t matter right now, what matters is I saw him, I saw him break your window and climb in to your house, he is inside your house.” 

“Bob, hello?” 

Somehow the two were disconnected.  Cass picked up the phone and started to dial 911 but her phone suddenly went dead.  She walks slowly to her bedroom door and opened it slightly enough to peep out.  She didn’t see anyone.   She opened the door enough to walk out into the hallway.  She reaches the stairs and listens for a sound, any sound but hears nothing.  She now runs down the stairs and shakes Ted to wake him but he was not waking up.  Just then a hand grabs her shoulder and she turns and screams.  “Who are you?”  Before she can utter another sound, the man punches her across the jaw and she falls to the floor.

When she came too she was slumped in a back seat of a car.  She sits up and sees a man in the front seat.  She reaches out to him and he falls to one side.  She saw the blood and started to panic.

Tropical Depression

We meet, greet, and eat on the street and together we weather the storm be adorn in all the scorn I am sworn to be yours

indefinable undeniable like to face the music but no dancing we struck no romancing so…Why can’t we go swimming in a tropical depression?

You hide me for the better like a seven year old bed wetter I am in shame we are so lame to be hiding in shadows uncountable so when we dance it is alone and never in you home but mine close the blind then we do it you peruse that and twist me around off the ground never a night on the town now I frown and so….Why can’t we go swimming in a tropical depression?

In some cheap motel we are flying to hell and back again listening to orgasms from other all around like those sounds making you wilder sexier giving him all the best of her pumping harder and fast but try to make it last for the pleasures we feel is why we are together and make no reassurances your assetts for my insurances for when I can get none I call you and you jump into the fire with me into the frying pan cause we sizzle lie butter and at that time there is like no other, and we see things are so good together but I ask you over and over again…Why can’t we go swimming in a tropical depression?

You keep me down I am your clown to your Serrano putting words in my mouth like a puppet, but I cut the strings and I sing no more for you and you look in shock when I no longer drop to my knees gone with the breeze. I dissolve and you wonder now just how I g ot So you ask again and again and rethink it now then ask your self over and over and rack your brain for that answer again then you think…Why can’t we go swimming in a tropical depression?

You think you are rid of me seeing what the mind wants to see but a day a week a moth goes by you get in a condition and think you will dye so I come over and we talk but that’s not why I am here and my wit and my charms as I find you moving near me to hold my hand and other parts of my anatomy and at this moment I am really glad I’m me, we roll over like rover playing with his ball as you know what I like and together we fall. The thing feels right for this moment anyway but you have your regrets whenever you get away and think how you want no part of me but like a vicious cycle at least once a month we stop and ask ourselves once again, Why can’t we go swimming in a tropical depression?

Why can’t we go swimming in a tropical depression? The storm rises the winds, the rains and other things the mood is so right so we suit up and head on that coaster again and then we got our wishes free at last we are together to do what ever it is we do and you look at me and I into your eyes and finally we are there rose way above it and now we can say, “We finnaly finished  swiming in that tropical depression”

New Adventure

I am working on a project that includes you.  If you want to be in a short story then email me at AUTHORBOBBYD@yahoo.com

Send the subject you would like me to place you in, could be you and a partner, or family and you might be picked to be included. 

Subjects include:

Romantic

sensual

sensual underworld

almost anything

just let me know

I’ve Only Seen Your Face

 I only seen your face

This my mind will not erase

The face say’s more then words to me

The smile, shows how happy one can be

The eyes are the tunnels to your heart

The nose smells good and bad everyday

You cannot choose I am sad to say

Your mouth makes one want to kiss it

The kiss makes one fear to miss it

Yes, it’s all in the face

The mind just won’t erase

Thank you for finding me

Now, look at my face

why can’t you see me?

 

I walk past you everyday

I cannot find the words to say

My heart is filled with love for you

But yet there’s nothing I can do

Floating down the endless fall

No helping hand for me to call

The pain hurts too much I won’t ask

For your love behind the mask

No love shall see my love for thee

which is a place Id  rather be

For the pain to be loved we all endure

But to be one sided makes one unsure

To live without is more then one can stand

But one day, I might see this plan

Pounding, screaming, trying to be

Look at me, over here you see

You look right through me I am right here

But you don’t see my face,

I continue my fear

I stop my pain but still I stay

With the hopes my memory will happen your way.

My spirit of past is still in the now

I can still see your face

It has lost me somehow

I wonder the walls, the streets where you live

For those who loved me, I hope can forgive