Stephanie and I have been … ahem … dating for the last six years. With a little bit of help from yours truly, she has become an amazing sex partner, and can give as good as she gets. She can be both demure and aggressive, but when she gets wound up, you’d better be ready, because she is physical enough to put a hurt on you with that toned body. Added to this is the fact that she is a screamer, and when we’re rolling I sometimes get worried that some neighbor will call the cops on us.
Stephanie was married for 15 years to her high school sweetheart before he decided he wanted a younger model when Stephanie turned 35. We’ve been dating since she was 45, and I think she gets hotter every year.
“Life is good,” I thought to myself as we both drifted off to sleep.
++++++++++
Traci contended that she didn’t have sex with Jack Axelrod that night. She explained that her makeup was smeared because they went dancing and she was sweating. She explained that she didn’t come home that night because it was late, and since she didn’t expect me home, there was no sense for her to be on the road that late, so she slept on Axelrod’s sofa.
Yeah, right.
When I didn’t say anything, she took that as a sign of weakness, and went on the offensive.
“How do you know his name? You’ve been spying on me, haven’t you,” she shrilled at me.
“Actually, I haven’t, but that’s not a bad idea,” I replied. “I saw you two last night at the bar and then I followed you two to his house.” I held out my hand. “Phone. Now!”
Traci reluctantly handed me the phone from her purse. I knew she didn’t have it password protected because she is bad at remembering passwords and she knew I’d never betray her trust by looking at her phone without permission. But that was before yesterday.
There were three phone calls and four texts from Jack Axelrod from the last month. All indications were that this affair had been going on for at least that long.
“Well at least he’s not married so only one of you needs a divorce,” I sneered.
“Oh, no, Mick, we don’t need a divorce. I told you, we didn’t have sex. We just danced. And those texts are not about what you think,” she said, surprisingly upbeat.
“So you’re telling me that when I have your panties from last night tested, I’m not going to find Jack Axelrod’s sperm in them?” I shot back.
Traci turned bright red. So much for 24 years of marriage.
“For God’s sake, Traci. He’s 28 years old. That’s only five years older than our oldest child. Do I not do it for you anymore. Don’t you love me anymore? How could you do this to me?”
“But I do love you, Mick,” she responded tearfully. “I don’t love Jack. This was just sex with a younger guy with a bigger dick. This means nothing. I was always planning on coming back home to you every night.”
Yes, I did catch the phrase, “bigger dick.”
“So because he’s got a bigger dick you just figured you didn’t need me anymore. What about all those orgasms I give you with my hands and mouth? What about all those screaming orgasms? Does none of it count?”