No sex for five years? Well, the alternative was having sex with a nag that I had stopped caring about some years ago.No, that's not true. I cared about her- you can't live with someone for over 17 years and not care about them. I just didn't like her, and didn't find her physically attractive anymore. Partly because she wasn't. And partly because she was a total bitch trying to pussy-whip me into submission. I'll give up the pussy before I submit to a woman- or anyone else for that matter.Then came our 18th wedding anniversary, and she came home from work the night before and started practically raping me. Not that I was objecting, mind you. But it wasn't a mutual idea at all. And I was deeply confused.I held my confusion even after we found out she was pregnant. I guess what happened just didn't occur to me. Until the baby was born. Then I knewLet me explain how I knew, briefly. We came from a slightly inbred eastern-european Jewish ghetto. We both had brown eyes, black hair, pale. I wore all my piercings, guys seemed to like that, Both nipples stood proud of my small breasts, and my clit ring drew attention to my tight pussy. I slipped on my black french knickers and push up bra, my black tights and mini skirt, a black silk blouse, a size too small for obvious reasons. I zipped up my thigh-length shiny leather boots, shrugged on my long leather coat, and headed off to the hotel. As usual, the reception staff gave me long hard stares as I waited for the lift. I stared back, a sneer on my face. I was off to earn overnight what they didn't earn in a week. Fuck them, the bitches. I resisted the urge to flip them the middle finger as the lift doors closed, and I made my way up to James' room. I knocked loudly, and James opened the door. He had the lamps on, the room had a warm glow. He'd pulled off the quilt and overthrow from the bed, just the plain white sheet and pillows left on it. I turned and kissed him, our tongues mingling, his hand on my arse, pulling me.
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