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L.L. Craft Publications
How Do I Look Now, Baby?
Copyright © 2013 by L.L. Craft
I jerked awake and looked at the clock to see that it was eleven thirty. I sighed disgustedly, here we go again. Greg had told me he would be in by ten thirty and I’d fallen asleep waiting for him. I don’t know why I thought tonight would be different.
Maybe because when I’d walked into his office and opening my robe, playfully flashed him the hot little black and red bra and panties I’d just bought, he’d smiled and told me I looked hot. Then again I should have known better. As soon as I’d told him he should show me how hot he thought I was, he’d made a show of holding up some folders and saying he had to finish some work.
I resisted the urge to ask him when he thought he might find time to work on me, but held back. That would lead to another argument and guarantee there would be no chance at sex. Instead I briefly considered dropping to my knees, sucking on his cock, then hopping on. No matter how engrossed in his work he was, Greg never seemed to turn down my mouth. I quickly shook off that thought and with a forced smile and a “Don’t be long baby,” I walked out of the room.
Maybe a few weeks ago I’d have used my mouth to entice him, but why the hell should I? Would it kill him to come onto me for once? I wondered if he were still working or just trying to outlast me. That was the pattern over the last few months; I’d go to bed hopeful and eventually get tired of waiting and fall asleep. I would wake up when he slid into bed and either be too tired to go after him, or he would claim he was exhausted.
The last few months; as it had countless times lately the thought of what had changed during that time entered my mind. Up until this point Greg and I had a pretty good sex life. Maybe not as hot as I would have liked it, but I had come to terms that I was higher drive than he was and didn’t mind killing some batteries here and there when he wasn’t in the mood. Then Greg changed jobs. The money was better, but the work more difficult, the hours longer and since then our bedroom activities had all but ceased.
In fact the once a week I could get out of him was so formulaic and unsatisfying, I didn’t know why I kept looking for it. Some nights it was as if Greg were forcing himself to fuck me. A quick suck on my nipples, sliding his fingers up and down my clit as if her petting a dog and then either rolling over on me, or rolling me over and fucking me for what if I were lucky these days was a couple of minutes. During the fifteen years we’d been married, Greg had always been pretty affectionate, now I was lucky to get a kiss goodbye, hello and goodnight.
Disinterested was the word I would use. However, when I’d spoken to my best friend Holly about it, she used another word; Affair. According to her all the signs were there; a new job meant meeting new people. Greg was leaving earlier, working later and was now taking clients to dinner and had Saturday meetings. Holly had point blank told me her thought was it was the same client and a female one.