A Dissatisfied Wife

'I... I'm sorry, I just forgot, you know I had a lot of stuff going on today, Amy.'

Amy didn't say a word as she slammed the disconnect button on her phone with her thumb; only a sharp grunt of frustration left her lips. Three fucking times this morning I told you, Eugene! She recounted her pleading with him before she left for work to swing by the power company and negotiate a dispute on their power bill this month. Of course it could've just been a phone call, but they lived right down the street and as Eugene liked to say, "It's always better to do things face to face." Well, I guess you weren't even capable of that, were you? Every time something's got to get done, you always fuck it up!

She rolled her eyes and sighed, spinning in her office chair to turn back to her workstation. Amy briefly considered calling them up herself, but that hope was quickly dashed as she read the time on her monitor as twenty past five. Unfortunately, they didn't support 24-hour operations; that task would have to be put off yet again. The thought of her asking Eugene again when she got home only exacerbated her stress. I've given him chances upon chances chance to prove he gives a shit about this family and... Amy's thoughts trailed off into nothingness. What was the point of dwelling on it?

'How did it get this bad?' Amy's voice was soft as her eyes lingered on the silver band studded with three small diamonds on her left hand. This wasn't the man I married. It was fifteen years ago when the two of them spoke their vows at the altar. Eugene was the love of her life; he was dependable, kind and considerate. He was a man that any woman would have been proud to call her husband.

Fifteen years, however, is a long time. A beer gut, slight hair loss and the general battery of health-related issues that come along with aging had subtly eaten away at the man. While the grey flecks in her otherwise-brown hair reminded Amy that she was not immune to the visual passage of time either, at least she had a career and a professional legacy to show for it. She was proud to say she had risen in her firm from secretary to VP of sales within a decade. Eugene, meanwhile had only slid downhill visually as well as mentally.

'Hey Amy, you get the memo about that time change for the Q3 report meeting?' a warm, familiar voice called out to her from beyond the bounds of her office and pulled Amy from her daze.

'Uhh, yeah, I already pushed it out to my people, thanks,' she responded cheerfully. The voice's owner peeked around the office door.

Justin and Amy had begun at the firm at around the same time and while her days were filled with taking calls and jotting down meeting notes, he was an intern for the sales team of which Amy was now VP. They had worked together for the majority of their time and while his new position as a senior marketing executive had pulled them apart more often, he still made time to check up on her every now and then.

'Justin, did you get that thing I sent you, it was supposed to be sent to Scott, but I think he's out for the day.'

'Yeah, don't worry about it, I left it with his secretary and I asked him to get back to me about the Woodwick client while I was down there.' Amy breathed a sigh of relief. Even after all these years of working together and the trials and tribulations both had endured, Justin was as dependable as ever. 'Hey, you okay?'

'Yeah, I'm fine, my husband just forgot to take care of something at the house again.' Amy didn't consider it entirely professional to bring her home life within the bounds of her office, but Justin was different. The two colleagues had supported each other through all kinds of struggles. Justin laid himself bare in Amy's office away from prying eyes when his beloved dog passed away and in another instance Amy solicited his advice regarding a particularly troublesome incident involving Eugene. 'I'm sorry, all I've been doing it bitching to you lately, at least more than I talk about work.'

'Oh, stop.' Justin entered her office and leaned against the doorjamb. 'You're nothing. Kelly over in accounting just won't shut up about the most inane shit and trust me, coming over here is an escape when she starts running her mouth.' Justin was a lanky individual; he had hit a growth spurt during puberty and his never body never completely caught up to his height. A couple of inches over six feet, he occasionally had trouble with doorways; a fact Amy was more than happy to remind him of whenever he would accidentally crack his forehead.

Despite the entrance-related awkwardness, the height combined with silky blond hair and the retention of his thin athletic figure from youth made Justin quite an attractive man. To be able to fit in the same clothes he owned when he was in high school was not an achievement most 35 year olds could claim.

Amy herself had grown a bit of a pudge since her wedding. Personally she felt that she couldn't hold a candle to her days of a carefree teenager, although she remained proud that her ass had largely retained its shape and firmness. Despite her misgivings, she could feel male eyes on her whenever she would go the bar during after-work outings with her department. As long as the stares didn't last too long, she had the self-awareness to appreciate the compliment. On occasion she even caught Justin's eyes appreciating her body, which she made no real attempt to stop.

'Not a very high bar to set, but I'll take it.' Amy started shutting down her machine to leave work for the day. 'Any plans after work?'

'Nah, just gonna head home and feed the cat and call it a night.' Justin stretched and yawned.

Just a typical Tuesday night for old Justin. Amy grabbed her papers and strode towards the door.

'See you tomorrow, Justin.' Amy gave his arm a comforting touch as she left the office for the evening. Justin wordlessly waved in response. Even when he came up to see how she was doing every once in a while, he wasn't too chatty. It was a nice quality in a man, Amy thought, to know when to speak and when to refrain.

Unlike Eugene. The slight high Amy received from Justin's presence quickly receded as she reached the office parking lot. Hearing her husband blabber excuses on how he failed to live up to today's tasks was not an event worth looking forward to, and right now the only thing separating her from her evening at home was a twenty-minute commute.

Amy didn't hate the man; her feelings could be more accurately summed up as a blend of chronic disappointment and shame. Where he previously didn't have to be told to handle whatever minutiae came up that day, more and more often his initiative degraded to a begrudging sense of duty, to finally only respond to constant badgering from his wife. It was Eugene's uninterrupted, slow descent down the slope of apathy and malaise over the years that she despised and regretted more than the end result that waited for her at their home. She could handle men that fit his current description in the day-to-day; tons of them filled the walls of her building every day. There was a reason Amy did not marry one of them.

With a deep breath, Amy calmed herself the best she could, and as she left the parking lot into the adjoining street, she let the monotonous journey of her commute home soften her senses and prepare her mind for returning home.

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The familiar scent of lavender and cinnamon from a myriad of air fresheners and candles entered Amy's nostrils as she cracked her front door. It was a home befitting her upper middle class income-eighteen hundred square feet with two bedrooms and a home gym. The home was older and required constant maintenance, this task being the impetus for Eugene reducing his own job hours to a part-time status. As Amy traced a finger on the foyer lamp and received a thin layer of dust in return, it was evident that upkeep was slacking. How surprising.

'Eugene, I'm home.' Amy sat her purse down by the front door and checked the kitchen. She spied her husband sitting on the couch in the adjoining living room watching television. The lack of any kind of meal preparation in the next room belied just how long he had been sitting there. Eugene was a heavyset man, slightly taller than Amy. A receding hairline and a growing bald spot adorned his head and a pair of glasses rested on his nose.

'Hi, honey.' Eugene sat up and stretched his back. 'I didn't know what time you were going to be getting home at, so I figured I would just wait before I started cooking.'

Amy felt her internal temperature starting to rise and she closed her eyes. Do not blow up on him, do not blow up on him. With an exhale, she regained control of her temper enough to speak.

'You could have called.' Amy pulled out pots and pans. If he hadn't done his job and at least began some kind of dinner prep, she would. 'I could've at least given you some kind of time window I was going to be home, but you haven't done shit. And that doesn't even count what happened today with the power company.'

'I told you about that, I was busy.' He yawned and sat back down when he saw her efforts in the kitchen. 'I'll get it done tomorrow, I promise.'

I was busy. Amy lost it.

'Busy? What the fuck do you DO around here anymore!?' Eugene almost jumped out of his chair. 'Every time for like the past two months I ask you to do something, nothing. There's always some kind of excuse, and when I got home today, what do I see, your fat ass in front of the TV again.' Eugene tried to speak, but she cut him off. 'Don't even start, Eugene. You've been doing nothing but dragging ass constantly around here for a long time. I don't know what happened, or why, or why you haven't even talked to me about it, but I'm sick of it.' In frustration, she skidded a saucepan along the counter and gave up. 'Fuck it, I'll skip dinner tonight. Make whatever you want.'

'Amy, no, stop, I'll cook something.' Eugene began haphazardly pulling ingredients out of the pantry in an effort to salvage his wife's mood. 'It's okay, you don't have to do anything.'

'No, Eugene, I have to do everything.' Amy sighed and moved briskly into the bedroom. 'Go ahead and make yourself whatever you want.'

She closed the door and heard nothing more from her husband. The last thing she wanted right now was to be around Eugene or even to hear him. It was bad enough he flubbed his errand this morning, but now dinner? Christ, he's useless. Whatever breath control techniques Amy tried to calm herself with failed, but at least she temporarily put him out of her mind and the anger began to recede. Well, she was home now, and at her disposal now were more effective means of stress relief.

Amy unbuttoned her work shirt and gingerly ran her fingertips down the front of her neck and across her chest. She traced small circles on her tits with one hand, while the other unzipped her skirt.

Oh, how she missed being taken to bed every night and laid properly. Of course, in the early days of the marriage her and Eugene couldn't stay off each other but now, his lackadaisical attitude around the house had extended to the bedroom. Even if the man could perform, at the current moment Amy was having none of it.

'Honey, you know what, I'm just going to head down to the bar with the guys and grab something there,' Eugene hollered from the kitchen. The annoyance of his voice breaking her concentration turned to mild curiosity as Amy briefly ceased her pleasure. He doesn't usually head over until later on in the week, this is odd.

'You sure, Eugene?' Amy made herself semi-decent and opened her bedroom door. 'How long you going to be gone?'

'Probably until nine, nine-thirty or so.' Three hours, at least. She finished closing her shirt. Three hours of peace.

'Okay, sounds good.' Amy could faintly hear Eugene grabbing the car keys and closing the door to the garage. Of course he didn't bother to put anything away. She widened the bedroom door further. A part of her felt dejected that he just up and walked out without saying goodbye, that he didn't even bother to poke his head in their bedroom. Just because he has a few problems down south doesn't mean he can just not do...anything.

Amy's self-pity was cut short by the vibration of her phone in one long spurt. She pulled it out of her purse to see one message from Justin: Fed the cats, not really doing much now. Everything okay at home?

Occasionally she would get little tidbits from his private life and usually they were pretty harmless. Justin stayed at home mostly and he never married; he valued the companionship of his animals to be preferable to a spouse, as he had put it once before. Communication with Justin was easy. There was no possible scandal, no possible incident from a jealous wife checking Justin's after-work texts. Of course in Amy's home, Eugene was too self-centered to notice who Amy was talking to. He would have a right to be concerned at least, given that she was talking to another man without a shirt on. If he even noticed.

Hubby just went to the bar, didn't even cook dinner. Amy sighed, put the phone down and replaced the pots and pans in their dedicated positions. She could be in here stark naked cleaning the kitchen and he would still just sit in his regular spot on the couch, eyes glued to the screen.

She gazed down at herself. Amy's eyes followed the feminine curves and gentle, alluring lines of her body restrained by underwear. All this, here for you, and still nothing. If Eugene's inattentiveness was solely isolated to his wife, Amy would perhaps have placed the blame on herself and her age. Her self-esteem was healthy enough that while insecurity was kept at bay, it was not prevented wholly.

The phone buzzed again. Amy was excited to hear a response. She missed having conversations at home that didn't eventually devolve into an argument or the blame game.

Damn, this early? She reported frequently enough on Eugene's evening activities that the man on the other end had a rough idea of his schedule. It probably wasn't appropriate, but neither was Amy being left unsatisfied personally and with the state of the house. So wyd?

Just hanging out at the house alone. Amy's warmth from earlier faded away completely. Her nipples stiffened in the cold; the thin fabric of her bra wasn't enough. Just hanging out alone? Did I really just send that to him? Amy said nothing. What am I asking for? She couldn't tell herself the answer. If only Justin could see her now: a lonely, frustrated woman in her kitchen in nothing but her underwear.

Want to talk? Amy blushed. Of course, he just wanted to know how the night was going. Justin knew he was talking to a married woman; he wouldn't dare make motions that would allude to impropriety. He was a proper man.

But what if he wasn't?

Sure. Amy exhaled hard. She thought of the amusing dichotomy of her disrobed body against her prim and proper messages to her coworker. She knew he would have never thought of her like that; Justin could do so much better than her. Such a strong, attractive man should have multiple prospects to choose from, let alone a married woman from across the office. What's up?

He shouldn't be doing that to you. Amy's breath held. Justin had never made a comment this direct before. She was sure he had his own suspicions from her pointed comments during late work hours, but he had never since seen fit to interject his own viewpoint. Guess he's been drinking, Amy mused. She didn't mind, it was late.

It is what it is. Amy sighed in resignation. She wished she could fix her husband, but nothing she has said or done has gotten through to him. Eugene is Eugene. The man he was before, the man who would clean up around the house and would call in to check on her no longer existed. Such are the pitfalls of marriage, that when two people grow old they would also grow apart. Cats all fed?

Yeah, they finally stopped bothering me. She giggled. He would constantly regale her with stories about their constant cries for food regardless of how much was actually still in their bowl. Still got that apple wine you told me about?

Amy thought of the half-empty bottle in her cabinet left unmolested by her husband. Eugene preferred the perpetual six-pack in the fridge; he usually left her wine alone. It was a nice bottle, she received it from her aunt. The only reason Justin knew about it was she brought it into work for an after-hours reprieve one particularly-difficult evening.

Yeah, it's still here. Amy took it from the cabinet and held it in her hands, slightly swirling the half-full container. She held her breath for a few moments and let the gentle motion of the alcohol calm her mind. Want to come over and help finish it?

That's it. She said it. Amy invited Justin over to her house while Eugene was gone to polish off a bottle of wine. There's nothing inherently wrong with that, she mused. We're just coworkers, Justin's coming over to talk; it's not like I'm calling him over to rail me out on the couch.

The thought made her tingle. Amy hadn't had any kind of attention in so long that even the possibility of intimacy excited her. She knew she couldn't cheat on her husband though; just because Eugene was a poor spouse doesn't mean she had clearance to reciprocate.

I just want to be treated like a wife again; is that so hard?

Sure. It'll take me like 20 minutes to get there though. Amy sighed as she reviewed the plan she put into motion. Justin didn't live too far; he was only a couple turns and an interstate exit away. He'd come over, they would share a bottle of wine, talk about the cats and work and he'd leave before Eugene got back. It was simple.

She took the bottle and pulled a swig off, returned to the bedroom and discarded her open, buttoned shirt in exchange for a simple T-shirt and sweatpants. Amy figured it wasn't too formal yet not too comfortable that Justin might get the wrong idea. Leaving the bra on the floor, she pulled the garment over her tits and gave it a quick pull to make sure her nipples didn't make their presence known. Can't have him seeing those. A similar tug of longing as before creeped through her as her body disagreed with her decision. Amy gave in one last time to her neglected libido and gave herself a gentle squeeze.

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Three quick raps on the front door let Amy know her coworker had arrived, almost exactly at the twenty-minute mark. Justin was normally pretty punctual but this was a little over the top.

'Glad you could make it.' Amy let him in with a smile. 'Right on time, too.'

'Luckily all the worst of the traffic is long gone.' The man seemed to have a similar opinion on evening dress to Amy: his simple shirt and a pair of jeans was a stark contrast to the professional attire earlier. She appreciated how they lay on him; not enough men wore well-fitted clothes. 'I guess Eugene's still at the bars?'

'Yeah, he'll be gone for a while, we'll be fine.' While Amy firmly believed she was in the moral right to have her coworker over for platonic drinks, she didn't let her husband know beforehand and however inattentive he was while sitting in front of the TV, she didn't think that would apply to him coming over and seeing another man in the living room. 'Besides, not like anything weird is happening in here.'