February Sucks for Walter Mitty - Sex Stories

February Sucks for Walter Mitty

... big night is higher than you expected." Then I said the words that I knew wouldreally gut her. "Besides, the question isn't whether or not I'm coming back home. I AM. The question is whether or not you'll stay there."

"JIM! Of course I'll stay there!" Her eyes narrowed. "And if you try to take the kids away from me, you'll lose. The wife always gets the kids. Everybody knows that!"

"No,sweetie, the primary caregiver gets the kids. The one who makes the lunches, gets the kids to school and picks them up. Goes to doctor's appointments and parent teacher conferences. Which one of us do you think that is?"

She flushed with anger. "I take care of our family! We do it together! We're equals!" She had a look of triumph, like she'd found the secret phrase that would make everything better.Equals. The trouble was, our night at Morrison's had sucked all the magic out of that word.

I sighed. "You've always said that that we're equals. Partners. But that's not what you really believe, is it? I've spent years listening to your snotty comments about little boys who are led around by their dicks, or are slaves to toxic masculinity, or have the emotional depth of a cocker spaniel. And you always finish up with something like 'But not you, honey. You're different. You're special.' But you don't really believe that, do you? You believe that you'll use the kids as leverage to get your simple, somewhat dim husband to come home, then you'll lead him around by the dick until ...

... everything blows over. I'm sorry to break it to you, Linda, but a steak and a blowjob aren't going to fix this one."

She tried to look smug, but couldn't quite pull it off. "Get real, Jim. You're going to give up everything--your kids, your family, our sex life--over one night?!?"

I snorted. "That's the thing, Linda: I never really had you, did I? Friday night proved that. And sex--" I paused. Did I really want to go there? Then I saw the little smirk playing around the edges of her mouth--the one that told me that, after Mark, I was always going to be second best. That she was the alpha who could bag the football star and I was the beta who was lucky to bag her.Fuck it, why not? "Well, sex isn't quite the big selling point you think it is." Her mouth fell open. "I'm sorry, Linda, but you're not the best sex I've ever had. To be honest, you don't even crack the top five."

"But we--but you--" she sputtered.

"Here's a little secret, Linda: The best sex is free. It's undignified. It's sloppy and messy and silly. It's not a power struggle or a fight for dominance or a politically correct negotiation. In bed--with me, at least--you have so many barriers and walls and rules that I wonder if you've ever been able to really let go." I shrugged. "I'm guessing that you may have loosened up for Marky boy, but I'd still be surprised if you cracked his top 100. If I had to put money on it, I'd bet the most exciting thing for him that night was taking you away from me. My guess is that ...