Reassessing My Life - Pt. 1 - Sex Stories

Reassessing My Life - Pt. 1

... she’s still some single college chick?”

“She invites me along, though.”

Cassandra’s expression was the definition of dubious. “Yeah, but she knows you have to work, too.”

My phone pinged. “Hang on. It’s her, and… yup, she’s going to a party tonight. Invited me along.”

Cass leaned forward to look. “Ask her where it’s going to be.”

We waited a moment, and Kim responded with an address. Then,You’re not going to be able to make it, right?

The two of us chewed on that for a moment before I spoke. “Does… does that sound like she’s hoping I can’t make it?”

My sister-in-law scratched the back of her neck, unintentionally dragging her collar open a little to show a hint of the tattoos under her shirt. “Maybe. I dunno, I’m not sure. This is why I hate texting.” I’m pretty sure Cass would have a rotary phone on a landline if she could justify it; she loved that kind of archaic stuff. “Can you swing missing work tonight? Back out of crunch?”

I thought for a moment. “Maybe. But going to the party with her won’t tell me anything.”

“Yeah, but going to the party when she thinks you aren’t going to be there might.”

And so I texted Kim that I was still working crunch; it was both the truth and a misdirection. I was still working crunch, but I was also going to sneak out of work a little early and make it up by coming in early the next day. That was the plan, anyway.

But then I went to the party. It was a raucous affair, and so was the thing that Kim was ...

... engaged in when I found her. She’d gone upstairs with a guy that could have been a carbon copy of me; I knew she had a type, and the dude pumping away into my cheating wife’s pussy fit it to a T. I got my phone out, took a few pictures and a short video, and then… nothing.

A part of me felt like I should try to beat the guy up, or shout at Kim, or even cry and throw up, but I felt almost nothing. It’s not like I was stunned or overwhelmed, either. I felt some irritation, and a little disappointment, but none of the extreme reactions you hear about, no fury or depression or even nausea. Just a bit sad.

And that’s when it hit me: I don’t think I’d ever actually been in love with Kim. I cared for her, was deeply, deeply in lust with her, but love? No. I married her for a lot of reasons, but they were frankly really dumb ones, and I hadn’t fully realized it until then.

She was conventionally beautiful, seemed like she’d be a great wife, good in bed, and hung on my every word. She was exactly the type of wife a frat bro should go to college looking for; a beautiful, reasonably smart future mother could be replaced when she got a little too old. And she was exactly wrong for me.

My father had told me she was perfect. My brothers, both fraternal and biological, had told me she was perfect. Her sorority sisters and her mother said we were perfect together. And Kim did everything she could to convince me we were. But we weren’t, and I, for the first time, realized how much I’d ...