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Melissa asks him to take her gorgeous ass.

I headed for the couch, grabbing a bottle of bourbon on the way, and settled in for the night. I drank myself to unconsciousness, knowing I'd pay for it in the morning, and slept an unrestful, dreamless sleep.

I awoke sometime around noon to the sunlight coming in from the windows, and a pounding headache centered between my temples. I sat up, remembering why I was sleeping on the couch, and then seeing my wife sleeping, curled up uncomfortably in the armchair. I looked at her there, a whole range of emotions flooding through me. The love I felt for her from the day we met. The anger at seeing her make love to someone else. A touching sweetness at seeing her want to stay close to me. That cold knife back in my chest at remembering what she did the previous night.

Jacqui awoke quickly, and looked at me with a hesitant, pained expression. Nothing was said as I looked at her for a long moment without emotion on my face, then looked away from her, and silently got up and to the front hall. Grabbing my keys and slipping on a pair of shoes, I heard her come up behind me.

"Brock, please, let's talk about this..." Her hand touched my shoulder, and I shrugged it away as I left the house. "Brock, don't go... Please Brock... I'M SORRY!!!..." She screamed as I closed the door behind me. I got in the car and just drove.

I had no idea where I was going, I just drove looking for something to take my mind off my troubles. Ending up downtown, I drove past the local stadium, and saw the marquee advertising the afternoon baseball game. I shrugged, parked the car, bought a ticket way up in one of the nosebleed sections and sat all by myself in the upper deck, almost having the whole section to myself. I grabbed a beer and a hotdog from the aisle vendor, and sat alone, barely paying attention to the game, but for the first time since I saw Jacqui and her lover, I was starting to think things through rationally.

What bugged me so much? I had fantasized about Jacqui and other women before, picturing her in many different scenarios before with women not near as pretty as the blonde... Sabrina, I thought, now that I had a name to place to the face. Lord knows that lesbian porn turned me on like nothing else, and for a guy like myself, this was a dream come true. My gorgeous wife was willing to go down on another woman, and not only that, she seemed to truly love it. I had my ultimate fantasy, and yet I was miserable. Why? It seemed I was missing something to put my thoughts all together, to place why I felt the way I felt. It wasn't even a something. It could be summed up in a single word.

Inadequate.

How the hell could I compete with a woman? Someone who knows what another woman feels, what turns them on and can do things that feel good for both of them. I thought back to the memorable sex we had had in the past, and wondered if it was as good as I thought, or if Jacqui was just shining it on for me. Was she always into women, or was I so bad she turned to them?

Eight months. I thought back as hard as I could about that span of time and remembered her coming home, waking me in the middle of the night after a night out, and taken me with such passion. She made love to me, and had been so giving. I remembered her leading the sex, but doing nothing really radical, making love as we always had, just with her taking the lead instead of me.

I tried to recall any time she had seemed disinterested in me over the past year, and again, nothing sprang to mind. We had even headed out to a quiet retreat in the country five months ago, and ended up spending the entire weekend making out like a couple of teenagers. I remembered her leading me out to a wooded glade away from the hotel and having me make love to her as she leaned against a tree, giving herself over to me with such ardor that it seemed almost like a different woman, and after she had collapsed on top of me following our climaxes, she kissed me so passionately and so deeply, that even now I felt myself aroused just thinking about just the kiss alone.

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