"Erotica"

He kisses me on the neck.  That’s about as much foreplay as he can muster.

We go to the bedroom after he makes sure the twins are asleep.  I strip off my clothes because I know he’ll just have me do it when he comes in.  Not enough chemistry anymore for him to strip me.  Not enough passion for him to even lift my skirt anymore.

When he gets in, he strips down to everything but his socks.  He blames it being cold.  He blames a lot of things on the cold, and I’m not sure I buy it anymore.

Missionary position.  Again.  It never really changes.  There’s no spark, like there used to be.  I remember us being young, trying our best to be quiet while I sucked him off in my room, so my Dad wouldn’t hear.  He didn’t even see my pussy until we were married, but, of course, I had to serve him somehow.  Always have to serve, like I’m lying still and he just half-heartedly goes to town.

I fake an orgasm right as he reluctantly finishes.  Elapsed time is probably only a minute or two, but it feels like an eternity, lying back and thinking of England.

Oh my god what are you doing.

Stop this. Stop it right now.

I warned you.  I told you I would talk about how boring Gordon was.

I SAID TO STOP IT WHAT ARE YOU DOING. HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS.

WHY WON’T YOU STOP.

It’s my body too.  I’d ask if you even realize I was in control for one of the times he decided to make you perform your wifely duties, but we both know they kind of blend together, so it’s kind of impossible to tell.

STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT FUCK YOU. I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS. Do not post this anywhere. Please.

Oh, please now?

What do I get for not posting this?

You don’t get anything, you don’t deserve anything. You’re digusting. Leave me alone.

If I don’t get anything, I don’t see why I should do what you say.  That’s not really fair!

We’ll go drinking. You like that.

That’s not enough anymore.

You’re taking my life and IT’S NOT ENOUGH?

Not anymore.

You need to give me something really nice to not post this.

It’s my artistic expression!

FUCK YOU.

Is that a no?

Oh, maybe you could walk through the back streets, wearing a miniskirt.

You could look real vulnerable.

That could be fun.

We’ll have a knife.

Please no

Sounds like you’re not willing to do what it takes.

Again.

Guess I’m posting this.