I Guess I did Need a Vacation After All - Sex Stories

I Guess I did Need a Vacation After All

Loneliness sucks.

Being alone is all right. Sometimes, it's preferable to being with people who bore you or annoy you. Sometimes you just want to be alone. That's okay. Everyone needs a little space now and then.

But I had been alone for a year. My solitude had progressed into abject loneliness, and it sucked. I decided to treat myself to a summer vacation. I was going alone, but, hopefully, a change of scenery would help.

When the initial anger of my breakup with Karen faded, being alone was something of a relief. Don't get me wrong – our relationship had been great for a while. Mutual friends had introduced us at a party, and we hit it off well that very first night. Well enough, anyway, that she went home with me, and we didn't get out of bed for much except food or the bathroom for the next two days.

We both had our own apartments with several months to go on our leases, and we had a lot of our own interests, so we kept our relationship on the date-and-fuck level for a while. We enjoyed the time we spent together, even when it was something as mundane as washing our cars or going grocery shopping.

We got to be friends as well as lovers, and eventually decided to share an apartment. We were comfortable together. Maybe that was the problem. We got a little too comfortable. The edge wore off.

I guess I'm either a little too trusting or a little too dumb for my own good. I didn't question it when Karen said she was going to start doing volunteer work one ...

... evening a week at an adult literacy program (something I had no interest in whatsoever). After a while, said she was going to do it two or three nights a week. I didn't mind that either, because it gave me time to pursue some interests of my own, hang out with the guys, or just chill at home after a rough day at work.

Looking back on it now, I see that I should have recognized the warning signs. After all, if I was so committed to this relationship, why was I almost glad Karen wasn't around three evenings a week? But I was blind, and I accepted the fact that she sometimes came home very late, with alcohol on her breath. Her explanation was that she and some of the other female volunteers at the adult education center liked to go out for a drink or two after teaching their classes.

For some reason, I didn't even think it was strange that she would always rush to the shower the minute she came home from her tutoring sessions, even though Karen had always taken her shower in the mornings before.

The fact that our sex life had dwindled to only one or two sessions a week didn't seem to mean that much to me either. After all, we had both just turned thirty – we weren't sex-crazed kids anymore. We worked very hard at our jobs, and our “extra-curricular” activities often meant that sleeping was what we needed to do when we went to bed on the nights she came home late.

One night, Mike, a good friend of mine from work, called me about an hour after Karen had left for her ...