- Thursday, Jan. 31
John Anderson sat at his desk and wondered what he was going to do about Amy. Amy was his wife of six years, and lately she had been behaving very strangely toward him. It seemed that she had her mind on something, and he couldn't figure out what it could be. For over a month now, ever since Christmas, she seemed to be lost in thought almost every evening. Their conversations had deteriorated to simple sentences.
They used to have long conversations over the supper table, but these had become not much more than question and answer sessions. He would ask her what was bothering her, but she always said "Nothing." He knew there was definitely something different about her and the way she was treating him. He made up his mind he was going to speak with her again tonight about it, but this time he wasn't going to take "Nothing" as an answer.
As the gulf between them grew over the last several months he had noticed that it had begun to affect their sex life. They had always been active in that regard, enjoying each other almost every night. Lately though, it seemed that once a week had become the norm and for the last two weeks their sex life had been nonexistent. While he had tried to get Amy interested, she had given him several excuses, most recently last night when she complained of being too tired. Considering they were both only 30 years old and were both very fit, he found that hard to believe.
For the last five months Amy had been taking an evening art course at the local University. These classes were held on Monday and Wednesday evenings, and he had noticed that they seemed to be lasting longer lately. On several other evenings over the last month she had said she needed to work on her paintings and had been gone for several hours each time. Fortunately his work didn't conflict with her hours at the University, and he'd been able to care for their one year old daughter Amanda while Amy was away at class.
John sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. He thought back over the years since he and Amy had graduated from the University, he with a degree in business and she with a general arts degree. He'd used a small inheritance to open his own printing shop, as he could see a need for such a business in Elmville. It was doing moderately well and for a while Amy had worked at it with him. It had not been her real interest though, as she preferred to paint or sketch.
They had built her a studio in one of the spare bedrooms of their house, and she had filled it with her work and equipment. When she felt she needed to expand her experience as an artist he had suggested she enroll in some of the evening courses at the University. It seemed to work out quite well for her, as he could see new subject matter and mediums in her work. She had begun using pastels recently, and he knew her work had a new air about it. Her skills had markedly improved.
He could never really seriously discuss her art with her, as he really wasn't into it like she was. While he could appreciate her results, he couldn't carry on a conversation with her about techniques or styles of painting. As his business grew and her art developed they had less in common to talk about, although the arrival of Amanda had really helped in that regard. She was their pride and joy. At one-year-old, changes in Amanda's abilities and appearance were taking place frequently.
For the last month he had been wondering if Amy may be having an affair. A lot of the signs he'd read of were there, but his two attempts in the last two weeks to catch her if she was going out to fool around on him had proven nothing. Both times he had dropped Amanda off with his in-laws, Fred and June Holmes, telling them he had work to do at the office, but instead he had gone to the University to see if Amy really had a class.
The first time had been for one of her regularly scheduled classes, and he had been able to see her working at her easel with four other students in the classroom. Two of the students were women, one was an elderly man and the last a young teenaged boy. Their instructor seemed to be about 40, bearded with rather drab clothing and plain in his personal appearance.
The second time he checked up on her had been when she said she was going in to finish working on her latest painting. Again he had been able to look into the room through the partially opened classroom door, and she had been there working on a painting just as she had said she was going to do.
The art professor had been standing beside her pointing to her work and apparently discussing something with her. John had hung around and checked back on her several times, but he saw absolutely nothing that was suspicious to him.
As he sat there wondering what he would be able to do to fix something he didn't even know for sure was actually broken, Mary called him on the intercom to tell him his wife was on line one. He had hired Mary Paige, a 50 year old widow, only two weeks earlier and already her worth was being proven. She had been able to take answering the phone away from his responsibilities and now was also handling the counter for customers. This let him concentrate on pricing orders and calculating estimates, working on the design of printed products for his customers and ordering the supplies and equipment their shop needed. Mary had proven to be very good with the public and caught on quickly when shown the huge variety of product choices this firm offered. Now that the post Christmas lull in business was almost over he would really be able to use her talents.
John reached for the phone and punched the flashing button and said "Hello dear, how are you? Is everything OK?"
"Everything is fine John; I just want to know if you'll be home at your regular time tonight."
"Oh, I should be honey; everything is under control here, especially now that I have Mary working the office for me."
"That's good, John. I need to talk to you. I'll see you at 5:15 then. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, dear, I'll see you at 5:15. Love you," he said, realizing that she had hung up too soon to have heard his last sentiments. He sat looking at the receiver in his hand, wondering how it could be that she would hang up so quickly and impersonally. It seemed as though this was just another example of how she had changed.
Just a few short months ago they would've spent as much time as they could chatting and teasing each other over the phone. She just didn't seem to be the same woman she was such a short time ago.
John picked up one of the photos on his desk. It had been taken last year while they vacationed in Florida. They had been on the beach and had asked a lifeguard to take their picture. They had stood with arms around each other, Amy with her head on his shoulder.
He marveled at how beautiful she was, her dark blond hair contrasting with his, which was dark brown. They were both fit, with no excess weight on either of them. You couldn't really tell from the photo that she was 4 inches shorter than his 5 foot 10. The photo wasn't large enough to clearly see her blue or his hazel eyes but both of them sported broad smiles no camera could miss.
He stared at the photo and thought again of how good things had been going for him and Amy during the first five years of their marriage. During those years they had taken two major trips, one to Cancun and the other to Fort Lauderdale. Although these trips had been taken up with days of fun in the sun, swimming, snorkeling and relaxing on the beach or at the pool, the nights had been filled with romantic dinners and dancing and completed with hours of joyous lovemaking.
Almost every night when they returned to their room they would follow the same basic script. The door would no sooner be closed and the deadbolt locked, than they would begin undressing each other. It was a race in which they were both winners. Whoever was stripped naked first would enjoy the oral pleasuring performed by the loser. Once the winner had achieved their orgasm, the loser became the winner, with the roles reversed. In truth, they both made sure that the first winner alternated each evening, so both of them were equally pleasured.
Amy had perfected pleasuring him orally, holding the base of his cock with one hand while the other played with his balls. Her mouth would slowly slide over the swollen head of his penis, while her tongue tickled the underside. As she raised and lowered her head she would sometimes twist it as well, creating the most wonderful of sensations for him.
She would make this process last, stopping her ministrations when she felt he would soon explode. It wouldn't be until he told her "Don't stop, don't stop!" that she would continue until he came in her mouth. She soon achieved the ability to swallow it all, and he would see her throat flex two or three times as she did just that.
When it was John's turn to supply the pleasure for Amy, he always began with kisses, light and slow at first, but developing quickly into tongue trading, passionate sessions. While they enjoyed the kisses he would begin caressing her breasts, teasing her nipples with his fingers, pinching them while twisting them gently. He would feel her nipples responding as they grew hard with his touch. He would move down, bringing his kisses to her nipples as his hands caressed her breasts and further down her stomach.
.... There is more of this story ...