tagLoving WivesThe Hall Monitor

The Hall Monitor


Hello dear readers. I write again to a special reader. One who chooses to write diatribes rather than honest criticism. It's also for all those who 'comment' anonymously unwilling to use even their Literotica username. And, it's for those who seem to be the hall monitors of the 'Loving wives' section and who cannot for the life of themselves write more than a paragraph or two of coherent prose.

I've tried to help him out in this story even providing footnotes/definitions to the more obscure words. I hope that you read this in the spirit in which it was written -- tongue in cheek.


He never wanted to let anyone know his true name. While he sat at his computer writing 'reviews' which often had nothing to do with the story he was reviewing, his wife, who had loved him since high school, wondered what had happened to him. He'd become so bitter, so ... small, and she didn't know how to help.

He sat there in his tidy whites, tapping away at the keyboard, for the moment feeling like he was the powerful one letting yet another author know the wrath of A_Nonymous, the keeper of the faith, the hall monitor of the 'loving wives' section of the erotic literature website. How dare this author incite1 his sensibilities by writing of a woman who had a curious set of erogenous zones which shifted her into a space where she could be used as a toy, a slut, and even a cum dump.

He wanted so much to be 'a man' but it had been years since he'd truly made love to the woman he professed to love. He was physically, and mentally, impotent2. So he sat, fingers poised over the keyboard, his belly hanging over the elastic band of his underwear, typing away.

"Honey, why don't you come here and lay with me?" His wife of almost 20 years asked. "I could use some attention."

"Just a minute, just let me finish this." He was getting a hard-on typing away furiously.

His fingers tapped out his rant; Shithead, I gave you a '1' without even reading your story. You suck, asshole. knowing that, even as he typed his missive, his comment would either be eviscerated3, or deleted without a second thought by the author. That knowing, that he couldn't actually write anything that another would read and say 'Good job.' to, made him feel even smaller. Lit should leave my comments up. I should be able to say whether or not they get deleted.

"C'mon honey, lay with me."

He finished his diatribe4 and got up from the desk quickly, hoping that this time his erection would last after he was finished with his tirade*. Alas it wasn't to be so. Even as he got up he could feel his pecker softening again.

"It's ok honey. I love you just the way you are." Only it wasn't true. She really wanted a man, the man she'd married so long ago. But he was gone and in his place she now lived with this shell. She cuddled up with him, put her arm around his chest and her leg crossed his hoping she could elicit5 some excitement from him. She reached down between his legs and cradled his member in her hand stroking him gently. But there was nothing. It lay limp, an earthworm of a penis.

And then she smiled to herself. She had an idea.

"Honey, I'm thinking it would help if you closed your eyes. Give this a shot for me would you?"

He so wanted to please his wife that he closed his eyes and listened to her voice.

"I want you to imagine me now in one of those stories." She cooed. "I'm in a room, a bar, and there are men around me. You've just gotten us a beer and are starting to bring me mine when this guy stands up in front of you. "Sit down, sonny boy." He tells you and, though you want to take care of me, want to help me, this guy is menacing6. You look down at him, that's right -- you look down at him, he's only 5'6" tall, but you realize that he could kick your ass and you sit down. You think, 'I'll get him. If only...'"

"I see you there, this wiry man standing now over you. You sitting with my beer in your hand, and I smile at you. "It's ok honey. They're alright. I'm ok."

As she talked he started touching himself stroking his member, coaxing7 it to life. She purred on...

"One of the men singles me out of the crowd and takes me to the dance floor, 'Loving Feeling' by the Righteous Brothers is playing, and we start to dance. He's really good though I wouldn't call him my type."

As she continued, she reached down and touched his hand on his now hard penis. She stroked him, her hand on his and kneeled up straddling him. His loving wife lowered herself down on him taking him inside of her easily.

"We dance slowly at first, normally, his right hand on my waist and his left holding mine. But I want more, you know how I get. I move his hand with my own to my chest holding his hand there on my breast the back of his hand pressed against me."

She rocks on him as she tells the story, she's getting wetter and wetter as she tells the tale. It excites her to be telling him a story while he's inside of her.

"I see you sitting there, the young Puerto Rican man smiling down at you as you watch me dancing with his friend, knowing his turn will come. My head sinks to my partner's neck and I lay it there swaying with him to the music. Our legs are entwined as we dance and we couldn't be closer. I feel his member pressing on me and I'm getting wet pressing myself on his thigh. He begins to press harder into me and reaches down with his right hand pulling my ass toward him. I can feel him bunching my skirt up behind me and reach back to stop him but he's too strong. After a moment of trying, not wanting you to see him taking advantage of me, I give up and let him grope my ass. After all, I started it holding his hand on my breast"

She rocks faster now pressing herself on his pubic bone wanting to feel him, to feel something.

"His hand is now pulling my panties up over my ass cheek and he lets go of my other hand, reaches around and wedges my panties up my crack. My ass is now visible to everyone and his hands are groping me. The others in the bar start to cheer and clap. "Go boy!" And he moves his head, his beard scratching my face. He forces me to kiss him. I hate beards, the feel of rough hair against my skin, and now this man is kissing me, his beard and mustache rubbing me like sandpaper, his tongue invades my mouth.

Faster and faster she rocks...

"And then he slaps my ass, HARD. The sound reverberates in the room. And it stings. I can't help it at this point, my panties are wet, he's controlling me, my ass stings and, when he spanks me again, I climax."

Faster and harder she rocks on him until "Owwwwwwwwww." She soaks him with her juices, clamps down on him and falls into his arms.

She lay there for moments, gathering herself, enjoying the first orgasm she's had in years knowing she'd made him feel more like a man. She feels him go limp again inside of her.

"God you were good, honey. I love you so much... we'll do this again."

And he lay there, wondering what had just happened.

If you've gotten this far, congratulations! I hope you got a smile or two, and that you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. What follows are the footnotes/definitions for the man who couldn't write a story if his marriage depended on it. I encourage you to vote and vote often. Anything more than a '1' will surprise me!

I don't accept messages from people who are anonymous and if I had the power there would be no anonymous comments either. Man up. Oh, and have a profile. Something more than 'over 18 years old'.

Finally, this is the second such story. If you've been missed and feel hurt that no one's written a short story for/about you, well you're too late I'm probably done with the 'response' stories. From now on it's the power of 'delete' for me.


1 - Incite; to bring into being : induce to exist or occur

2 - Impotent; 1. Lacking physical strength or vigor; weak.

2. Lacking in power, as to act effectively; helpless

3. Incapable of sexual intercourse, an inability to achieve or sustain an erection.

4. Obsolete Lacking self-restraint.

3 - Eviscerate; 1. To remove the entrails of; disembowel.

2. To take away a vital or essential part of

4 - Diatribe; a bitter and abusive speech or piece of writing

... his apparent inability to keep his pen from drifting from the main objective of his words into diatribe must have taken away from the sound and otherwise convincing arguments that he advanced. —Henry Petroski, Engineers of Dreams, 1995

*Tirade; synonym* for diatribe

*Synonym; synonyms are words with identical or similar meanings. Words that are synonyms are said to be synonymous.

5 - Elicit; to call forth, draw out, or provoke (a reaction, for example).

6 - Menace; a show of intention to inflict harm

7 - Coax; to persuade gently to do something or go somewhere, by being kind and patient

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