That Fucking Project - Sex Stories

That Fucking Project

... envelope on the table. My defiant silence, coupled with my steely glare and the thick envelope, conveyed the message. She went pale and appeared saddened. For someone who'd played me for so long, she seemed genuinely distressed, her eyes glistening with moisture.

"You have to believe me," she eventually pleaded, "I do love you."

She vainly awaited a response that didn't come.

"Say something, please," she choked out. "Do you hate me?"

I remained silent, savoring her discomfort.

"Ask me anything, and I'll give you honest answers. Do you want to know why?"

A bitter smile slowly crept on my lips. "Let me guess," I started, "it wasn't about me, but about you. You were lonely during those long days I was out there busting my ass to build us a future. You felt trapped, suffocated by the housewife routine, giving up on your dreams... until, a spark in the darkness. Your fitness instructor became your savior, bringing back the lively girl you thought was long gone, bringing you back to life. It was meaningless, right? Just sex—a remedy, if you think about it, a lifeline in a mid-life crisis—a remedy you had no intention of giving up until you were caught!"

She hung her head, ashamed. "Now what?"

I mulled it over for a bit before muttering, "That fucking project..."

"What was that?"

"Sorry, dear. We just hit the 750-word limit."