Jealousy

Something was going on, but it was obvious that whatever it was, it was only in the incipient stages.

I also thought again about my wife, why I'd fallen in love with her, and how I had let us get into a rut. Hell, I'd even started to let myself go physically. Until about five years earlier, I'd stayed in great shape, but as the demands from work mounted, I'd slowly developed a bit of a pot belly and I wasn't as strong as I used to be.

An idea was starting to form in my mind, that maybe I was going to have to win my wife all over again if I was to continue to stay married to her, which I did, very much. I just hoped it wasn't too late.

I did beat Susan home and walked in the front door with my suitcase and my hang-up bag. Brooke was up watching TV when I came in and she jumped up and hugged my neck in surprise. I decided to leave my bags on the floor where Susan could see them the second she walked in the door, then went upstairs and changed into some gym shorts and a T-shirt.

Ten minutes later, I heard the front door open, then a kind of gasp as Susan saw my stuff and realized that I was home.

"Dutch?" she called up the stairs, and I emerged from the landing smiling as if everything was fine.

Susan seemed a little hesitant for just a second, like she wasn't sure what to do, then she raced up the stairs and gave me the welcome-home hug and kiss I had come to expect when I returned from these trips.

"I thought you weren't coming home until tomorrow," she said. "If I'd known you were coming home early, I wouldn't have gone out with the gang."

"I called your office, but you'd left, and I called your cell about 8:30, but you didn't answer," I said in a pleasant tone.

I told her what had happened, and I thought I saw just the briefest flicker of guilt on her face as I told her about my "late-night" flight home. I told her it had been a bumpy ride, and I'd had a few beers to calm my nerves, which explained the alcohol on my breath.

We walked together to the kitchen, and that was when I began my campaign to reel my wife back in the fold. I looked her up and down appreciatively and whistled.

"That dress really looks good on you," I said, then I hesitated as if seeing something for the first time. "Have you lost weight? You sure look like you're slimmer than you have been."

Susan beamed at the compliment.

"I didn't think you were ever going to notice," she said. "You know, hospital employees get a free membership to the Y, and I've been taking my lunch there the past couple of months. They've got a real nice salad and juice bar where I can get a light lunch, and I take a step aerobics class three days a week, then I walk the track the other two."

"Any particular reason why you decided now was a good time to lose weight?" I asked, as I poured a glass of fruit juice and sat down at the table.

I tried to phrase the question as innocently as possible, but I still caught a startled look in Susan's eye when I asked that.

"N-no, not really," she said. "You know I haven't been happy with the extra weight I've been carrying around, and I just felt like this was a good time to start getting rid of it."

Yeah, right, I thought, with just a trace of sarcasm. Wouldn't have a thing to do with that new friend you're wanting to impress, now would it? That's what I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue. Instead, I decided it was time to cut to the chase.

"Susan, can I ask you a serious question?" I asked.

Again, there was that brief flicker of concern, but I smiled at her to ease her fears.

"Are you happy?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" she said.

I stood up then and gathered my wife in my arms.

"I mean, are you happy with your life? Are you happy with me?" I said, looking her straight in the eye. "Is there something I can do to make your life better? I did a lot of thinking on the plane ride home, and I really think something's missing in our marriage."

She looked away and buried her head in my shoulder as she hugged me tight.

"I wish you weren't gone so much," she said. "There are times when you just don't seem to be a part of my life, a part of any of our lives any more. I miss you. We all miss you. I wish you'd pay more attention to what's going on around the house, do things as a family more than you do. It seems like your whole life is wrapped around your work these days, and we just get the leftovers."

I felt a sense of shame, because she was right. I was letting my work consume me, and my wife and kids were just getting the crumbs.

"Do you still love me?" I said softly, and for that I gently lifted her chin so I could look her in the eye.

"Of course I still love you," she said without hesitation, and this time she met my gaze completely. "You aren't perfect, but neither am I. Things could stand to be better between us, but you're still my lover, my husband and the father of my children, so yes, Dutch, I love you."

"Good, because I love you too, Susan," I said. "I'll do anything I can, change anything I have to if it will make you happy."

At that, I brought my hand around and softly cupped one of her breasts, and a soft gasp escaped her lips. She looked up at me with a smile on her face, but I also thought I saw a little relief on her face.

"You think you've got some life in this thing?" she said as she reached down and squeezed my cock.

"Well, we won't know if we don't try," I said. "I won't make any promises, because I did have a few beers on the plane, but I will give you whatever I've got to give."

We told Brooke good night and ascended the stairs. I heard music coming from behind the closed door to Peter's bedroom, so I knocked quickly, stuck my head inside and greeted him, then asked him to turn it down a little.

By the time I got to our bedroom, Susan had shed her dress and was in her bra and panties. In seconds we were naked with just the bedside lamp burning. I ran my hands over her body and she moaned softly, then gasped as I slid two fingers between her bubbling labia.

Susan was hot and wet as I fucked her with my fingers and rolled her clit with my thumb. I could feel a hard-on trying to stir in my loins, trying to overcome the effects of the alcohol in my body. I had the idle thought then that I needed to really cut down on my drinking, if only for the sake of my sex life.

But I was an old pro at this game, and I knew there was more than one way to please a woman. I slid down the bed and captured Susan's nipple between my lips, licking and tugging at the pink nub with my teeth.

"Ohhhhhhh, yeah," Susan panted.

She has super-sensitive nipples, and I always make it a point to see that they always get plenty of attention. All the time, my fingers were working in a slow steady rhythm in her juicy cunt.

Susan knew what was coming, because when I feel like I've had too much to drink, I always compensate by using my mouth on her. And this was no exception. I slid between her legs, grabbed her butt in both hands and pulled her fragrant pussy to my face.

I didn't fool around, because I could sense that she was close to the edge. I swiped my tongue up her furrow, tasting her essence before wrapping it around her swollen clit.

Susan thrust up with her hips, trying to push as much of her crotch into my face as possible, and I obliged her by getting my whole mouth on her cunt, eating her with purpose. I could feel her hands in my hair, stroking my head gently as she held me in place.

Harder and faster, she ground her pussy into my voracious mouth. I sucked her pussy into my mouth, I stabbed her opening with my tongue and I kissed her clit with my lips, bringing her orgasm rapidly to the surface.

Susan was making little yips as she began to hit her peak, then with a loud gasp, her whole body stiffened then she shuddered as her climax washed over her. I kept my mouth clamped on her pussy as I sucked up the fruits of her passion.

I reached down with one hand and stroked my cock, which was nearly rock-hard. I pulled my mouth away, and looked up at my wife, who looked back through slitted eyes.

"Ummmm, yeah, fuck me, Dutch," she breathed. "Give me your cock."

When I'm at full roar, I have a cock that's bigger than most, about 7 inches and pretty fat, and even when it's not at its best, as it was this night, I can still dish out some pleasure. I held my cock tightly at the base and pushed it into Susan's pussy, then lay on top of her, letting our bodies flow together.

We kissed then, hard and frantic, enjoying the union of old love. Truthfully, I never get tired of Susan's lips, which are quite sensuous, and her mouth, which is quite ravenous.

Susan wrapped her legs around my waist and worked her hips around mine and I drove my cock in her as best I could.

After about five minutes, however, I could feel myself running out of gas, so I pulled my wilting member out of Susan's cunt and slid back down for a second round of oral goodies. Again, she was awfully close and it didn't take long before she shuddered on my face again in a second, final climax.

When she was through, I slid up the bed and gathered her in my arms.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I gave you everything I had, babe."

"Hey, no need to apologize," she whispered sleepily. "You always give me your best, and that's all I've ever asked for."

I held her as she fell asleep, but in spite of my exhaustion I found sleep elusive. I knew without a doubt that my marriage was at a crossroads, and my future, our future, depended on how I reacted.

Jealousy is such a volatile emotion, a double-edged sword in the human psyche. It can corrode and poison a relationship easier than any other emotion there is, but it can also bring a person to an awareness they lacked previously.

On the one hand, I was pissed off that some joker was trying to horn in on my wife, and there was no doubt in my mind that this guy Susan had been with that night – albeit as part of a larger group – was making a pass at her.

On the other hand, the mere fact that she'd left the door open enough to make him think he might have a chance meant that she wasn't entirely satisfied with our life together in some way. It was my job to do whatever it took to satisfy her to the point where she'd shut the door in his face.

I was pretty sure that Susan hadn't cheated on me – yet – but I knew that unless I took immediate steps to improve my marriage, that she would continue to entertain the notion. And the longer it went on, the more likely the chance was that she would eventually succumb to the temptation.

The way I look it is that a marriage is like a garden, and you have to keep working at it or it will start to wither. I'd let some weeds start growing in my garden, and they were choking the beauty of my marriage. It was time to start tending to the task of pulling them out and letting my marriage bloom again.

It was after I came to that conclusion that I finally fell asleep.

I think Susan must have gotten some sense of urgency as well, because the next thing I remember, it was morning and my wife was doing something she hadn't done in a long, long time. She was lying between my legs with my very hard – painfully hard – cock working back and forth in her mouth.

I just kept my eyes closed and wallowed in the feeling of Susan's good-morning blowjob. I did thrust up with my hips to let her know I was awake, and she redoubled her efforts. She sucked a little over half of my cock into her mouth and jacked the rest with her fist.

I had left a pretty hard dose of cum in my balls the night before, so I knew it wasn't going to take much of that before I came. I wrapped my hands around Susan's head and gently guided her motions as I filled her hot mouth with my cock.

I was close, close, close, then my body jerked hard and she buried my cock all the way in her throat as I spewed a rocky cumload straight into her stomach. She kept her throat muscles working until she'd milked me of every drop of cum, then she pulled her face from my cock, smacked her lips and crawled up in my arms.

"Good morning, lover," she said as we held each other.

"Good morning, yourself," I said, still panting from the exertion of my orgasm. "What brought that on?"

"I just realized that it's been awhile since I woke you up that way, and I wanted to thank you for last night," she said. "I know you were tired from your trip, but I appreciated your efforts. Sometimes I think I don't tell you that enough. I don't know, maybe I've taken you for granted, but I really do appreciate everything you do. You're a good man, Dutch, and I still thank God for your sister, after all these years."

"I could say the same thing," I said. "We've kind of let things slide in our marriage a little bit, and I want to try to get that passion back. I still say the best time of my life was that 18-month period when we were dating. Remember? God, we were in love. Susan, can we get that back?"

She just buried her face in my shoulder and I think she was shedding some tears. I held her for awhile, just soaking up the pregnant silence.

"Dutch, I want to grow old with you," she said softly, when she'd composed herself a little.

"I've got an idea," I said suddenly. "Let's go into the city this afternoon, just you and me. We'll do whatever you want. Go to a movie, shopping, whatever. You make the call."

For a second, Susan just looked at me like I'd been abducted by aliens. And, to be honest, she had reason to be incredulous. It was a Saturday in mid-November, and for years I had spent practically every Saturday afternoon in the fall perched in front of the television watching college football.

But at that moment, a football game wasn't nearly as important as making my wife happy. So we got the morning paper and looked to see what was happening in the city, and we both had the same idea.

There was a big show going on at the city's largest museum of art, and that's where we went. Susan loves that kind of stuff, and, truthfully, it was a show of historical art and artifacts that held my interest as well.

After we left the museum, we drove downtown, and held hands as we walked through the trendy shops. I let Susan buy a dress that caught her fancy, I bought some shoes I needed, then we went to dinner, and I had not the first drop to drink.

It was a truly magical day, and there were more to come. I started joining Susan for lunch at the Y, and worked on losing my gut and firming up my body. I recalled from my high school days of playing football how to get on the weights, and I hit them with a vengeance.

I cut my drinking way down, and so did she. We started doing things as a family, and I started to pay particular attention to Susan. I started sending flowers to her work for no particular reason, and our sex life really took off.

We were going great, and then I almost let it all slip away in one moment of jealous anger.

It happened at her department's Christmas party, which was held on a Saturday night about a week before the holiday. It was being held at a reception hall that had been rented for the night. There are about 50 to 60 people in her department, so if you include spouses and significant others, there were probably a little over 100 people there.

Susan looked really good, with a strapless dress that was snug at the top, with a flared skirt that didn't quite reach her knees, and I wore my best suit. We each fixed a plate of hors d'oeurves and a drink from the bar then settled into the party.

There was a DJ playing tunes and the dance floor was quite active as we made the rounds. We'd been there about an hour or so, when I ran into someone I knew at the bar, and Susan moved on to mingle with her friends from work.

I spent probably 15 minutes engaged in a conversation with this fellow, and when I went back into the main hall to look for Susan, my heart stopped. She was on the dance floor doing the boogie-woogie with the guy I'd seen her with that night about five weeks earlier.

I choked down my anger, but as one song flowed into another, I kind of hung back and watched, to see what would happen, and as I did my blood got hotter and hotter.

This guy was plainly trying to pick up where he'd left off a few weeks earlier, grabbing Susan's hand and twirling her around like she was his date or something. To her credit, Susan didn't look like she was very comfortable and did nothing to lead him on that I could see.

Still, she does enjoy dancing, so she was trying her best to enjoy herself under the circumstances.

Finally, a slow song started and Susan tried to leave the dance floor. But her friend wasn't having any of it. He sort of took her by the arms and guided her back onto the floor. I could actually see a sigh of resignation pass her face as she consented to a slow dance with this guy, who apparently couldn't take no for an answer.

At last, the song was over, and this time Susan did leave the floor and headed toward the ladies room. The guy and a couple of his buddies headed toward the outside doors to have a smoke.

I always carry a cigar to functions like this, because it sometimes offers me a way to get out of a party where I'm not having a particularly good time. And I was not enjoying myself at all on this particular evening.

I walked outside, and the guy and his buddies were laughing about something. I walked over to lover boy and asked for a light, which he cheerfully lent me. Then he turned back to his friends. They were all tall, a couple of inches over six feet, at least.

"So, Paul, how's it going between you and Susan?" I heard one guy ask, and I tensed up as I listened.

They apparently didn't have a clue as to who I was, because they were talking as if I wasn't there.

"Yeah," said the other. "We figured you'd already have her out in the car by now. What's the problem, buddy?"

"Aw, it's just a matter of time, fellas," said the guy, whose name I surmised was Paul. "She's just playing a little hard to get. But I guarantee you I'll nail her before the night's over. I'm telling you guys, she's a pushover. Once she gets a look at what Ole Paul's packing, she'll be putty in my hands. She wants it; I can tell."

I was seething at the way he was talking about Susan, my Susan, but I was also half-afraid he might be right, her body language on the dance floor notwithstanding. I decided to enter the conversation, just to see where it might go.

"What about her husband?" I asked, and they all three turned to look at me. "Aren't you worried that he might object to whatever you've got planned for this woman?"

"Nah," Paul said. "I hear her husband is a middle manager for some big corporation. Probably has a big spare tire around the middle and carries a four-inch dick."

They all laughed, and I laughed with them, although my laugh was directed more at the bastard's audacity that at any appreciation of his "humor."

"He'll be child's play," Paul continued. "I've never met a wife yet that I couldn't fuck, and once Susan gets some of me, hubby'll be the last thing on her mind. She's probably never been fucked by a real man."

"You're pretty sure of yourself," I said, trying my damnedest to keep my temper under control.

"Hey, mister, I've seen this guy in action," one of his friends piped up. "He's got the biggest dick in town."

"That so," I said, as I took a last puff of my cigar and put back in its tube.

"By the way, I don't think we've met," the third guy said. "I'm Luke, this is Brady and that's Paul."

"Ah, the famous Paul," I said. "I have heard about you. My name's Hank and I'm here with my wife. Pleasure meeting you gentlemen."

"Who's your wi..." Paul started to ask, but I was already gone, back into the hall. If I'd stayed out there any longer, I wouldn't have been responsible for my actions.

I found Susan at the bar, and she looked like she'd packed away a few drinks.