Chapter 4

My wife Rochelle shut off the 6:15 alarm and started getting dressed. She reminded me, “I’m taking Jonathan to a soccer game after school. We should be home around six.”

I sleepily mumbled, “Okay. Have a nice day.”

“You too, Gerald. See you tonight.”

I volunteered at the museum and didn’t have a set schedule. I usually left home around 8:30 am. I pulled the sheet over my face to block the early morning sun and pondered my situation.

I’d met Emily when I stopped at an antique shop near the museum two months ago. I glanced at the young and attractive blonde several times as I browsed the interesting items. I was quite surprised to see a cannon monkey leaned against the wall. Sometimes they were called ‘ball monkeys’ instead. The large and heavy square plate of brass had 25 hollows bored into it at even intervals, to keep cannon balls in place on the gun deck of a sailing ship. More cannon balls would be stacked on top, forming a pyramid.

I thought it would make an excellent conversation piece in my basement rec room, or a nice decoration for the back patio. I looked at the price and was quite surprised. The person running the shop knew how rare they were and what it was worth.

Emily saw me looking it over quite a while and walked near me. She asked, “Do you know what it is?”

“Yes, it’s a cannon monkey. I like it, but the price is a bit steep.”

She said, “My grandfather tells a story about a ship sailing in the far north carrying some Arctic explorers, Fred Cook’s expedition, I think. In the cold, the brass monkey and the iron cannon balls shrank at different rates. When it got down to 35 below, a stack of cannon balls came loose and scattered all over the deck. They discovered 35 below is...”

I’d heard the story before and finished it with her, “ ... cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey. Hahahaha!” She blushed as she laughed, and I thought she was terribly cute.

She told me she was a literature major, planning on a minor in history. She worked at her grandparent’s antique shop when she had time between classes, Tuesday and Thursday afternoons.

I bought the cannon monkey and returned to the shop on Tuesday afternoons to browse and chat with her. I loved my wife Rochelle and thought I’d never cheat, but Emily was amusing and quite tempting. I started fantasizing about her as I made love to my wife.

I was hopeful, but thought it unlikely she’d be into my secret fetish, female domination. I imagined kneeling on the floor as she commanded me to lick her. The thought of begging her to ride me as I sat between her feet was supremely arousing. I started getting hard again as I thought about it.

I knew my wife Rochelle loved me, and she’d given me a son, but as she aged she was losing her visual appeal. Her only hint of dominance was, “Don’t forget to put your dirty clothes in the laundry basket.” In bed, most of the time she just lays there. Other than our Chloe-inspired shower, most of the excitement was gone.

Emily has breasts half the size of Chloe’s and a much less curvy backside, but she’d be more than enough to satisfy me. I’d be happy to chat with her for months on end. At only a few years older, she’s much more mature and vastly more knowledgeable than Chloe.

Without a doubt, Chloe has an excellent body and pretty face. She’s a nice girl but talks with her seem to quickly descend into the land of beer parties and fart jokes. She doesn’t have the knowledge or mentality to follow most of my best stories. I have no doubt screwing her would be amazing, though.

I usually visited Emily at the antique shop on Tuesdays, but the next day was Thursday and I knew she’d be working. I debated whether I should bring her flowers or another small gift and invite her on a date. If it went well, I could make up some conference or meeting out of town as an excuse to be away.

I suddenly remembered my wedding anniversary was on the coming Saturday. I was losing interest in my wife, but wasn’t going to be a total jackass and cheat on our anniversary. I still cared for her, and she didn’t deserve that. Instead of visiting Emily, on Thursday I’d go to a jewelry store and buy some earrings for my wife.

After a bit more sleep, I saw the clock showing 8:03 and decided it was time for breakfast.

I’d woken up at 6 am to make them breakfast. After Mrs. Anderson and her son left for school, I decided to get some more sleep before cleaning up the house. I was finally starting to doze off when I heard a car door close and looked out the window. I saw Jerry sitting in his hot red convertible. He revved the engine a couple times and the sound was high pitched, not like most cars. I liked it a lot. I thought he looked handsome in his suit as he backed out and drove away.

I laid down for a few more minutes and heard an awful racket. The gardener was trying to start the lawn mower. It would go for maybe ten seconds then quit. The noise was annoying, but I thought his dark tan and big arms were kind of hot. He leaned over to work on the mower, and I could see his butt crack at the top of his jeans. Most guys look gross that way, but he was sexy. His butt muscles are just the kind I like to squeeze.