3 o'clock in the morning, time to get up. Wearily she drags herself out of bed to get ready for work. She doesn't wear make-up, wears plain, baggy clothes, and has a simple non-descript hair cut. "Why bother doing anything more, nobody cares anyway," is her philosophy. Before she leaves she makes coffee and the day's lunches for her family. It takes her 30 minutes, maybe, to do all of this before she heads out the door.
Work, if work (and her life) was a landscape it would be bleak, dark and desolate. The monotony and boredom day in and day out are destroying her. It's all she can do to force herself to go to this intellectual desert. She works ten hours a day, five days a week. What matters here, is to get the work out. They don't pay her to think, solve problems, or be creative.
She watches the clock all day, and sometimes it seems that 4:00 p.m. will never come, and she will be trapped here forever. Finally, its time to go home.
Sometimes she thinks that life, in general, is a never ending perdition. "Don't dwell on it." She looks at the clock and realizes it's time to go... Ah, well, time to get the kids, and run to the store." The whole time she has the kids in the store, they nag her for candy and fight with each other. She is sure everybody is looking at her disdainfully. She wonders why she can't be a better mother.
As she walks in the door, she realizes, it's already time to start dinner. The kids beg her for a snack. While the kids are snacking, she cooks dinner and straightens the house. She wants things to be nice when her husband gets home.
HE walks in the door. The kids rush to him. His face brightens as he hugs and kisses them. She eagerly awaits her turn, happy to see her husband at the end of the day. He lightly pecks her on the lips, squeezes her tits and heads to the office to work on the computer. She follows him and asks how his day went. He doesn't want to talk about it. He's too tired and distracted by what's on the monitor. He doesn't look at her.
As she walks away, she thinks to herself, "He's just tired and has had a long day." She gets the kids out of her hair for a few minutes and finishes dinner. She calls to her family when dinner's ready. The table is set, the kids sit down and she serves them. She goes to tell her husband, again, that dinner's ready. He mutters that he will be there in a minute. She and the kids start without him. When he comes to the table, 15 minutes later, he reads the newspaper while he eats.
When everyone is finished, she clears the table and starts the dishes. As her husband leaves the kitchen, he strides to the sink and fondles her tits. He says that he loves his pals as she moans. Just when she's really into it, he leaves to go watch television in their bedroom. She sighs and finishes cleaning the kitchen.
She helps the kids with their homework and gives them their baths. After they get dressed for bed, she reads them a story. She makes sure they have their water, security blankets and whatever else they need to snuggle with. After they kiss daddy good-night, she tucks them into bed. She is tired and decides to go to bed too. As she undresses, her husband's eyes light up when he sees her tits. She shimmies for him and goes to him. He plays with his pals again, then goes back to watching television. After she gets into bed, the kids, one by one, come and knock on the door, coming up with all sorts of reasons to put off sleep. Dad gets frustrated and yells at them, telling them not to come back for the night.
She reads a book, but really wants to talk to her husband. Her attempts at conversation are met with, "Huh? Um, really? That's nice." She gives up and goes back to her book. During a commercial he asks her what she wanted. He reaches over to squeeze her tits and flick their nipples. She tells him that she didn't really have much to say and leans over to kiss him. His kiss is fleeting and distracted. His program has come back on. He guiltily mutters, "Um, you know, my show." She quietly goes back to her book.
A few minutes later as she turns off her light and settles in for sleep, he asks if she's mad at him. She asks him, why he thinks she might be mad. He says that he doesn't know. She tells him that she's not mad, she's just tired. He looks her in the eye, for the first time that night, and tells her that he loves her.
With a few slight variations on the theme, each day is the same. Weekends are filled with more house work, yard work, grocery shopping and a million-and-one other things.
One day at work, her boss wants to talk to her. She's afraid, wondering what she could have done to get into trouble. Her boss tells her that she's going to work with this new guy, an engineer. She is thrilled! Finally, some kind of change in her life. Jack is over six feet, stocky, but nicely built. When he smiles at her he has the whitest teeth she has ever seen. His eyes are a striking, piercing blue and, she can't stop looking at them. She barely notices that he has a dark complexion and dark hair. He seems to be younger than her, maybe by 10 years. When he shakes her hand his touch is electrifying, and his hand seems to linger just a little bit longer than necessary.
All of a sudden she's self-conscious. She takes inventory of herself and finds that she's grievously lacking. She's overweight, a lot, and hasn't thought of making herself attractive in years. Suddenly she realizes that he's looking at her, smiling. She flushes and asks him what he was saying. He had just been telling her that he was looking forward to working with her. Then he winks at her and goes off for a week's training.
The rest of the day speeds by as she thinks about Jack. She can't take her mind off of those beautiful eyes, his full firm lips, that electrifying hand-shake, and that parting wink. She wonders if it all really happened or if it's a figment of her imagination. She can't remember the last time she was this excited! The next week goes by in a blur. She can hardly remember what she had for breakfast, much less what she fixed for dinner the night before. Her husband notices her staring off in the distance. He is aware that she isn't trying so hard to get his attention. But as long as she continues to take care of things at home, he is not interested.
All he wants is to squeeze her tits, nothing else. His attraction to her tits has nothing to do with sex or arousal, he tells her. He only wants to have sex about every three or four months. And he tells her that he likes to please her sexually, but it really gets him uptight, so he'd rather help her masturbate.
For years, she's tried to figure out what's wrong with her. Maybe, she thought, she was too fat, so she lost weight. She started to wear make-up, and dress differently. To arouse him, she tried reading him erotic books, using sexual toys, or watching movies. All to no avail. She's worked herself silly trying to be what she thought he needed and wanted.
Every time she asks him what she can do to change, he tells her that it is him, not her. Everyday, he grabs her tits, then walks away, and a little part of her soul withers and dies. She tells him time and time again what she needs from him. Whether he doesn't care, isn't interested, or isn't capable of giving it, he does nothing for her. She feels lonely, neglected, used and abused. Why doesn't he want her? What has she done? If he loves her like he says, why doesn't he try to give her what she needs? Even when he asks for her advice, he doesn't use it.
Why is he still married to her? He doesn't seem to want the real her, so who does he really want? He's not the man she thought she married, either. Oh, he's not violent, or mean, or particularly abusive in the usual ways, he just isn't what she thought he was. He doesn't want or like the things that are important to her, although, he pretended that he did.
She doesn't want to live this lie anymore. She wants passion. Not just romantic passion, but passion for life. She wants to go to parties, dance and take walks in the moonlight. She wants lively conversation. She wants him to throw her down right there in the middle of the kitchen (when the kids are gone, of course), and take her. She wants him to touch her like she's a precious, fragile gift. She wants him to ravish her body and leave her breathless. She wants him to last for more than 30 seconds.
Remembering that she is at work, and coming to her senses, she realizes that someone is behind her. She turns around and Jack is there. She blushes, hoping that he can't read her thoughts. He flashes that devastating smile and says good morning. After he makes himself comfortable sitting next to her, he wants to know about her work experience. She tells him how long she's been in the business of electronics assembly, and all that she's done. He wants to know what she thinks could be improved on their special project. She wonders what he is up to, no one ever really wants to know what she thinks, even at home. She decides that she doesn't have anything to lose. So, she tells him. Little by little her ideas are put into place. She looks to Jack and he winks at her. He tells her that she has great ideas.
She and Jack work side by side for the next few months. She starts to relax around him. They have some serious and not-so-serious conversations about life, relationships, and anything else that pops into the conversation. Jack is smart, fun, and vivacious. They laugh a lot. Jack unmercifully flirts with her. She doesn't know how to respond. She is flattered, but self conscious. He's younger than her, "and oh my God he is so cute." She is also very married. When she thinks about it though, what kind of marriage does she have anyway? She flirts back.
One night, she and Jack are alone working late. She is bent over her work-bench and unconsciously lifts her hand to rub her stiff neck. Jack touches her neck and says that he'll rub it for her. At that moment, she is scared and excited all at the same time. She doesn't know what to do. Other than shaking hands and the occasional hi-five, they've never touched each other.
Jack's hands are large, strong, warm and gentle. As he massages her neck and shoulders, she closes her eyes, reveling in his touch. Oh man, he is good, she thinks. Her husband has never done this for her. For a fleeting moment she panics, then, she decides to live in the moment.
Jack's soft, slow, yet firm massage travels down her back. He seems to instinctively know which spots to hit and exactly how to knead her muscles in the just the right way. A small low moan escapes her lips. She thinks that this must be a dream, it feels so good. She gasps, as suddenly, his full, luscious, wet lips are on her neck. She is astounded that he knows about her hot spot, just where her neck slopes into her shoulder. As he kisses and nibbles her throat, his breath is hot and smooth. He trails his searing wet tongue across her neck as he moves to the same spot on the other side. Slowly, his hands move forward to grasp both of her breasts at once. He kneads them as expertly as he kneaded her back. She wonders if her fairy godmother sent this man to her.
The feelings awakened in her body overwhelm her. They have been dormant for years. He slips one of his hands into her shirt. Her nipple becomes rock hard and erect, as he flicks his finger across the tip. She is so consumed with need and desire, that she has a physical ache between her legs. Her juices started pumping the moment Jack touched her neck, and she is so wet now, that she wonders if there's a spot on her chair. Her body is on fire. She feels alive, sexy and desired. Her breathing is ragged, she's light headed, and her heart is pounding so hard and fast, that Jack surely, must hear it. She briefly thinks that she might die. She doesn't know how she can survive these sensations.
Jack turns her chair so that she is facing him. He gets on his knees, touches her face, and caresses it like he would a fine piece of china. She watches him look at her. He looks at her like she's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. As the tears run down her cheeks, he kisses them away.
Then, Jack kisses her on the mouth, slowly pushing her lips apart with his tongue. As he puts his tongue into her mouth, he gently and firmly strokes the roof, and plays with her tongue. As he holds her head with one hand, his fingers interlace with her hair. His other arm crushes her close to his chest. She senses urgency and need in him, but he continues to do everything painfully slow, paying no heed to himself. After what seems an eternity, he sits back on his haunches and starts to unbutton her shirt. With every button he undoes, he kisses the spot he uncovers.