My story starts in college when I met Amy and fell head over heels in love. Amy was five foot seven, weighed one hundred-twenty pounds and was built like a brick shit house. Amy seemed to like me, but her feelings for me, at the time, were nowhere near as strong as my feelings for her. I chased Amy for over a year before I began to get anywhere with her. Gradually I gained ground and we began going steady. One month into our senior year I asked her to marry me and she said yes.

Like any red blooded American boy I wanted to spread pollen, but Amy was adamant — no sex until married — and so I had to settle for Mrs. Rosy Palm and her five daughters. Necking with Amy was passionate and her kisses kept my car windows steamed up and we sat on the couch for hours and swapped tongues. All of that told me that Amy was going to be one hell of a wild woman when the time came.

Six months after graduation Amy and I were married. My wedding night was a disappointment to me. Instead of the glorious sex that Amy's luscious body promised I got one piece of ass and a talk that I should have gotten from her before we got married. I was "allowed" the first act of intercourse because it was expected of Amy to consummate the marriage. As I attempted to go for the second time Amy pushed me away and said:

"The marriage has been consummated George, put that thing away."

"But I'm ready to go again baby. Hell, I'm ready to go all night."

"What the hell is wrong with you George? I'm not some 12^th Street whore. We had to have sex tonight to consummate he marriage, but other than that the only reason for engaging in sex is having children. I won't be fertile for another two weeks so try and control yourself."

If I were smart I would have fled that hotel room, found a lawyer and got an annulment. But I wasn't smart, I was in love. The two weeks between our wedding night and the next time she would 'allow' me to make love to her were a living hell for me. Now that we were married I got to see Amy's magnificent body in the nude everyday and almost everyday I had to sneak off and relieve myself by hand. I kept trying to get her to make love, but she was firm:

"Damn it George, I said no! There is only one legitimate reason for what you want to do and that is a make baby. There is only one time period during the month when that can happen and that is the only time we will do it."

When her time came she 'allowed' me to make love to her as much as I wanted for three days: the day before her most fertile time, the day itself and the day after. The good news is that I got to make love to her for three days. The bad news is that during those three days I knocked her up. Now that she was pregnant there was no reason to have sex anymore until she was ready to have a second child.

Amy had a difficult time during her delivery and when it was over we had a beautiful baby daughter and Amy could not have any more children. I was condemned to a sexless marriage. I couldn't leave. I loved Amy and I loved little Marci. Amy was a loving and devoted wife. She kissed, she cuddled, she snuggled and she spoiled me rotten. She was a great cook, kept a clean and tidy house and was a fantastic mother to Marci. The only thing missing was any semblance of a sex life. I talked, I argued, I begged and pleaded. I even suggested we seek counseling, but all that got me was:

"There is nothing wrong with me George. You are the one with the problem. If you would suppress your animal urges there would be no problem."

After two years I gave up. If I couldn't get it at home I'd get it some place else.

The first dozen or so times it was with call girls. The sexual release was there, but after the first half dozen I realized that something was missing. There was no emotional involvement. The girls at least pretended they like it and two of them were good at faking an orgasm, but you knew in your mind that they were just lying there waiting for you to get off so they could leave and move on to their next customer. I needed more than that. I wasn't looking for love or long term fulfillment, but I did need some — for lack of a better term — emotional energy, and I found it quite by accident.

My job requires that I travel and when I travel it is usually as part of a team of three. One team member, usually Janice, is our computer system analyst, Tom is our nuts and bolts guy and checks out the production end and I'm the guy who goes over the books. When we pay a call on one of our production facilities we are usually there for three to five days.

After a day at the facility the three of us usually have dinner together and then we go our separate ways. Tom and I don't pal around because a year ago he came out of the closet. Tom's idea of a good time is to find the local gay bar and even as hard up for sex as I am I just can't go that route. Janice is a happily married woman and she usually heads for her room to settle in with a book or two that she brought along. Left to my own devices I usually caught a movie.

Even though I used call girls at home I wouldn't use them on the road. The ones at home came from a highly recommended escort service and they were required to have regular medical check ups and they always made the client use a condom. You had no idea what you would get if you got a girl on a trip so I behaved myself.

Janice, Tom and I were on the first day of a three-day trip to our facility in Kansas City and we had just finished dinner. Tom took off to do his thing and Janice left to go up to her room. I moved from the dinning room over to the lounge to have a drink or two and to listen to the live band. I was on my third drink when Janice slid onto the seat across from me.

"May I join you? I was going crazy sitting up in that room."

"Forget to bring a book?"

"I brought three of them, but not one of them can hold my interest."

I asked her what she would like to drink and then I waved the waitress over and ordered for both of us. Then we drank and talked shop for half an hour. Janice was just finishing her third drink when she said:

"Can I ask you something?"

Expecting it to be something about work I said, "Sure, go ahead."

"Am I attractive?"

I don't know what I read on her face, but I did know what I had to say, even if it wasn't true. "Of course you are." In truth, she wasn't. She wasn't ugly or homely, just kind of plain in the face and with not much of a body. She did have a nice ass, or at least it looked nice when she wore slacks, but attractive? No. But a gentleman isn't going to say that. Curiosity compelled me to ask:

"Why would you be asking that question?"

I should have kept my mouth shut because that question opened the floodgates. Her husband wasn't attentive and she'd been told that he had been seen with other women. She was told that he had been heard to say that she was ugly. Guys made passes at all the other girls in the office, but no one ever made a pass at her. I said that her husband must have found her attractive because he had married her hadn't he?

Then I found out that he had only married her because he had gotten her pregnant one night at a party where the both of them had had too much to drink to think straight. His parents had made him marry Janice. She had lost the baby, but he couldn't divorce her because his family were staunch Catholics and his father had told him if he divorced Janice he would be cut out of the will.

While she was telling me all that she was blubbering and all I could do was sit there, listen and keep a fresh drink in front of the both of us. Finally, just to shut her up I said:

"Will you stop that? You are attractive, very much so, so stop beating yourself up and lets dance."

I pulled her out of the booth and drug her out onto the dance floor. Human nature being what it is I unintentionally reinforced my telling her that she was attractive. The smell of her hair, her perfume, my lack of sex and my hands holding her body — her female body — all conspired to give me and erection. Twice she came in contact with it and I saw the expression on her face when it happened — she was pleased.

We stayed in the lounge for another half-hour, danced two more times and then I said I needed to get to bed. She said she was going to stay for one more drink and that she would see me in the morning. I hadn't been in my room five minutes when there was a knock on my door. I opened it to find Janice standing there. She had a plaintive look on her face as she looked into my eyes and said, "Please?"

It was enough to make a grown man cry. Here I was, married to a woman whose face and body screamed out, "Here I am, desire me, worship me and I'll fuck you to death while all the time being a totally sexless woman. And then there was Janice; a plain looking woman who would barely get a second glance from a man and she was an insatiable sex maniac. I didn't know if her husband was cheating on her or if it was just her insecurities and imagination that made her think he was, but if he was he was a fool. When I had stepped aside and let her in my room she had walked straight to the bed and without looking at me she had undressed and gotten on the bed. Lying on the bed she had spread her legs, looked at me and again said, "Please?"

I got on the bed with her and reached out a hand to caress her right breast and she said:

"No. Just fuck me. Don't go slow, don't tease, just ram it into me."

I did as she asked and pushed my cock straight in as hard as I could. "Aarghh" she cried out and I thought I'd hurt her and I began to pull back. Her hands gripped my ass and she moaned, "No, stay there, fuck me, fuck me hard, please God fuck me hard."

I did what she wanted, but it had been a while since I'd had sex so I only lasted a minute and a half or two before I came. Janice hadn't even come close to hitting her stride so she was crying, "No, no, no, please, not yet, please," but when the cock dies, it dies. Janice scrambled to change position and her mouth swallowed my cock and she went to work on it. Oh yes indeed her husband was a fool.