Marie's Awful Week

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A humorous look at the realities of family life.
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Dear reader: Ah, yes, the glory of the family. How we all wish to have the time to take care of their needs and ours. Unfortunately, that isn't always the way it goes....

Monday

"Thank God they're gone," she thought to herself. Marie had been feeling unsettled and extremely horny since the previous night's unproductive encounter with her husband. Now that her kids were on the bus, and her husband had left for work, she had an hour to herself before she had to leave for work herself.

Racing up the stairs, dodging Elmo, the cat, she darted for the bedroom. Diving onto the bed and reaching for the drawer in her nightstand, she wriggled out of her sweats, preparing to gain the release she so desperately needed. Settling back, she conjured up an image of her next door neighbor. A former athlete, he was still fit and trim, even at forty. She watched him sometimes, furtively, as he changed the oil in his car; shirtless. That was the picture she wanted right now. Fixated on the image in her mind, she reached down, touching the throbbing rawness between her legs. Rubbing gently, but firmly, she started to feel the tension rise in an area far from her shoulders. "Almost there," she thought. Faster and faster she circled and massaged; closer and closer she came to that inevitable moment of ecstasy. She saw the crest coming toward her, slowly but surely, a few more seconds, a few more manipulations and.... Fucking cat! Elmo jumped on the bed, purring and rubbing against her. She crashed back to earth, annoyed. Marie looked at the clock. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," she said, rising to hop in the shower to get ready for work.

Tuesday

Marie's husband drove the kids to school this morning, which meant they left late. She still had time to try to give herself a little relief. Yesterday had been so frustrating, and she had been cranky all day. No time to waste this morning, she grabbed her vibrator, cranked it up all the way, and went to work. In and out, up and down, around and around and around. "Okay, here we go," she thought, amping up higher and higher. There it was, right before her. All she needed was a few more seconds and then relief. Almost, almost... Doorbell. "I'll ignore it," she thought, although she felt desire waning. Doorbell again.

"Marie, Avez-vous vu mon chien?" Marie, have you seen my dog? Oh my God, it was the goddamn senile old lady from across the street. "Je ne peux pas trouver mon chien!" I can not find my dog. She gave up, throwing her sweat pants on, to go help find the dog.

Wednesday

Marie sent her husband and the kids out to breakfast, before work and school. This morning was going to be it. She couldn't take another day of this frustration. Throwing a DVD into the machine, she settled in for the ride she'd been needing all week. Watching the images on the screen, the two blonde women teasing each other, touching each other, eating each other was exactly what she needed this morning. Marie had always been partial to blonde women, and though she wasn't really into women, it was hot.

She had gotten all the accoutrements out today, the gel, the vibrator, the dildo that reminded her of an ex boyfriend; she was ready, and willing, and desperate. Focused on the screen, letting her mind go where it wanted, she luxuriated in the sensations. Her vibrator working overtime, and the dildo moving quickly, she stared at the two lithe, young figures bouncing around her screen. Feeling that familiar rush in her stomach, she smiled to herself. "Thank God." A small gurgling in her stomach interrupted her focus, but she pulled herself back into the pleasure, inching closer, closer. Another gurgle, louder. "Shut up," she told it. Wriggling beneath her own hands and battery operated lovers, she was ready. She needed just another moment and then... "Oh shit!" Darting for the bathroom, dropping running vibrators, and soggy dildos, she barely made it before expelling the contents of her stomach into the blue water of the toilet.

She didn't go to work that day, but she didn't leave the bathroom much either.

Thursday

"It had to be the chicken," she thought to herself, still stewing over the previous days illness. Practically jumping out of her skin with pent up sexual tension, she was angry and short with everyone. What was worse, her kids were home today, sick with whatever she had yesterday. She had even seduced her husband the night before, still slightly green, but to no avail. He just didn't have a clue what he was doing. "Fuck," she said as she left for work.

Friday

She put the kids on the bus, they were sullen and walking on egg shells around her. She couldn't really blame them, after all, she had gotten in a fight with everyone she came in contact with in the last thirty-six hours. Walking back to the house, she silently calculated how much time she had before she had to leave for work, "fifty-three minutes," she determined. That will hopefully be enough. Her jeans rubbed her just the right way to make her even more miserable, and as she opened the door to her house, she became acutely aware of how swollen she was, how much need lay at the apex of her thighs. Starting up the stairs, she felt the seam of her jeans rub against her. She had her pants off before she was even in the bedroom, laying down on the bed, she reached down to her dripping, aching core, touched it just once, and exploded, crying out with the power of it. Her whole body began to spasm with pleasure, the frustration of the week pouring out of her. As she began to settle back down, breathing slowing, she thought, "I still have time for coffee."

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LadybriarLadybriaralmost 13 years ago
So true -

- had to laugh out loud, even when sympathising with the poor woman :)

AnonymousAnonymousover 14 years ago
Ah yes.......

clueless husbands, whiney children and nosey neighbors. Apparently, the BIQ, has done a somewhat less than 'stellar' job of training those around her, to meet her needs. I mean just 'that look' and I know to beat feet, and when and when not take the children with. Shit, and thats just the sister in laws. Now, the BIQ? Thats a hole nother freakin matter, maybe hes just returning the neglect being perpetrated on him, or as in my case, just being asked to help out with manual manipulation, that would be a turn on, even with verbal instructions included that would eliminate unwanted attention. "Not there ASSHOLE," does not actually qualify! Good luck with that.

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