Chapter 1

Joe Alberni was thirty-five years old, White, about five foot ten and approximately twenty five pounds over weight. For the past five years, he was married to Cathy, a trim, twenty-seven year old brunette with short hair and an adorable pixie smile. Joe was a computer programmer and Cathy worked as a real estate agent. Together they had a comfortable existence, living in a small suburban community in Northern California.

Things were not going well in the babymaking department, however. Cathy was as fertile as could be but Joe learned that he had been cursed with a ridiculously low sperm count. After two years of cooperative but unsuccessful attempts to conceive, it was becoming a problem for the couple.

Tension was building. Quietly, Cathy was growing resentful. For the most part, she managed to bite her tongue and remain supportive of her husband but, once in a while, usually when she was experiencing PMS, an occasional mean-spirited word would pass her lips. Joe was hurting deeply as a result of her subtle yet pointed remarks and began to withdraw from her. Soon, sex for the couple became more and more infrequent. Cathy continued to keep track of her cycle and hope for the best but Joe had nearly totally lost heart and often found excuses not to have sex with her.

As Joe withdrew more and more, he retreated to the comfort of his work. In his home office, no one would question his masculinity. In there, alone with the door locked, he was “in charge,” and totally in control. On one such occasion, Joe was feeling sorry for himself and having a glass of Scotch. On his computer screen, he viewed pictures from his wedding. He remembered what a beautiful bride Cathy had been. Her makeup was perfect, accentuating her flashing hazel eyes and high cheek bones. Her body was at it’s absolute firmest and her perfect 34B boobs were shaded gently and pushed up in her wedding gown to create eye-magnetizing cleavage.

“Damn, she looked good!” Joe commented to himself. In truth, Cathy still looked really good and was almost exactly the same weight as then. It was only he who had gotten out of shape. Scrolling forward, he came to the traditional pictures of the cutting of the wedding cake and stopped for a moment to stare at the one of him feeding Cathy. Her supple sweet lips gleamed with lipstick and her mouth was opened wide in profile. If one were perverted enough, one might imagine she was waiting for someone to stick a cock into her mouth, rather than a piece of cake which, from the photographer’s standpoint, was exactly the point.

Joe was bored and a little drunk. His mind felt like playing some. He printed up a 4 x 6 print of the digital photo and placed it down, flat on his desk. He grabbed a thick black marker and began to draw on it. He couldn’t resist the obvious temptation to draw over the cake filled fork and, instead, replaced it with a crude drawing of a penis.

At first he thought it would make him feel better, desecrating their wedding picture some. The Bitch deserved it, he thought. But then, he felt bad and backed off, holding the photo at arm’s length. Looking at it from far away like that, blurring his eyes, and using a good deal of imagination, Joe pretended it really WAS a cock. Oddly, he started to feel a bit horny. He reached one of his hands down and began to play with himself.

He placed the photo on the desk again and reached for the marker again with his spare hand. Next, he drew in a few globules to make it look like the dick was shooting sperm directly towards his wife’s mouth. This was really starting to turn him on. Joe fished his five inch hardon out and quickly jacked off to his hastily created porn.

After cumming into a napkin, Joe wiped up and felt slightly guilty. He put his first bit of artwork away in a safe place and went to get cleaned up. That night, he saw his wife sleeping peacefully in their bed and couldn’t help but do a double take, shivering inside at the thought of what had just happened.