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I realized that even if my marriage survived, I would need to find a different hobby, be it tiddlywinks, or riding a trail bike, or even reading one of those classic novels collecting dust on the bookshelf down the basement. I would have to change...
The days slowly passed and Karen simply wouldn't even acknowledge my existence, let alone accept my repeated apology. I feared the day would soon come when I would be receiving papers from some lawyer. I'd never felt as sad and depressed in my entire life...
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Christmas Eve I sulked into bed. Lying back looking skyward, I noticed something duct taped to the ceiling above me. What was it? Something green and red? Suddenly, Karen rolled over and gave me a peck on the cheek.
"Merry Christmas, baby..." she spoke softly, her eyes moist.
And it was in that moment I discovered the true meaning of the holiday season. Karen was giving me the most precious gift that I could ever imagine, a window to reconciliation, a chance to regain my place in her heart. I reached over and gave her a bear hug and wouldn't let go.
"OK, OK, you big lug... I need to breathe."
I pulled back and looked her in the eyes whispering "Thank you!" before attacking her mouth. Her initial hesitation quickly evaporated and soon we were tongue locked while shedding underwear. I gave the love of my life several pounding that she wouldn't soon forget, and we fell asleep in each other's arm in a pool of sweat and fluids.
Waking up on Christmas morning she took it twice again, once with her knees by her ears and then finally in doggy. After badly needed showers, we were sitting in each other's arms in the living room, sipping coffee and staring at the ceramic Christmas tree sitting on the library table in front of the picture window. A fresh dusting of snow overnight framed the scene. But there was something missing, there were no packages under the table.
"Oh damn... In the all the trouble and turmoil of the last week, I forgot to get you a present," I apologized.
"I love you. That's the most important thing, really the only thing that truly matters. I just want us to go back to the way things were... before I went out to that stupid cooking party. For me, that would be the best gift of all, baby." Karen stated, looking deep into my eyes.
"Agreed... but still, I feel like I should have gotten you something, something really special..." I lamented.
"Well..." Karen winked at me, "You still haven't taken those toys back to the video store, have you?"
- COMMENTS
Anonymousabout 2 months agoHis revenge on her ill advised prank was loathsome. His mind has been corrupted by all the LW stories. He did it even after he had stone cold proof that she went out with her girlfriends. She has a big heart to so quickly forgive him. He had become a degraded nutjob.
Anonymous5 months agoOh shut up you fkn whiners, he didn't do anything to her for 1, and still everything as per this site was made to be his as the man's fault. With every action women preform is justified and reasoned as to why it's not their fault, it's the only realistic parts in stories on this site is how the self-entitled narcissistic female characters are never responsible for their actions nor ever made to face any real consequences - sure authors set them up into situations that have consequences but not for what they did to their husbands and not nearly enough for their sins.
Anonymous11 months agoThe third time? It becomes excessive at that point. The sleeping apart and then a very angry discussion on that Monday night would need to be the end result.
Her friends are wrong about the sleeping apart thing being enough, but, Jesus (haha), the anal plugs on the altar threat is an insane escalation. I mean, how does one even jump to that idea?
Vulcan_in_Ohio11 months agoYou don’t threaten to rape (anal sex without consent) the person you love in order to teach them a “lesson.” Also, he lied when he told her in advance that he wouldn’t physically hurt her, just emotionally. Well guess what, even with gradually larger butt plugs and all the lube in the world as preparation, forced anal sex would be physically painful. And in her church?
This story was not erotic at all. The reconciliation at the end felt forced. Spousal abuse, plain and simple, even though he stopped before doing the actual sodomy. The wife has PTSD but somehow is suddenly better on Christmas? Were I the wife, nothing short of a Lorena Babbitt maneuver (cutting off his junk) would make me feel better. Low marks for this are all I can give. Maybe switching the category would help (Non-consent, or BDSM).
ImNotanAnonover 1 year agoI've read a lot of stupidity here that writers try to pass off as stories, but this pile of steaming shit may take the proverbial cake for pure awfulness.
