My wife seguéd into a topic that was even more interesting when I consider we have been married over 10 years and she hadn’t mentioned it previously. I thought I knew all of her stories. I have heard so many. I brought up the trial of the mass murders committed in BC of the prostitutes by the some pig farmer.
“I probably knew him.”
“That reminds me of a guy I slept with when I lived in the Marina. He was a successful businessman. I was drawn by him cool, aloof demeanour, but he was colder than that. Detached. It was a Friday night. We met at a club. It was getting late, so I invited him back to my apartment.
“He was very forward. In front of the sofa, he stood and made it clear with body language, he wanted me to come to him. I obliged, eager to kiss him. But when I got closer, he pushed my head into his crotch and unzipped, fishing his cock out. I started to undress myself, but he asked me not to get undressed. I don’t know what I was thinking—or if I was thinking, but I got down on my knees, and he sat down as I sucked him off without reciprocation. When I was done—when he was done—he said he was tired and needed to get to sleep. Cold. No kiss. No caress. We went into my bedroom and fell asleep.
“I gave him the benefit of the doubt regarding his selfish non-performance even though he was just as detached in the morning. After we got up, we walked my dog together in the neighbourhood. As we walked by an empty lot where all of the other neighbourhood dog owners let their dogs’ defecate, he pointed to the site and said to me matter-of-factly, ‘That’s where I am going to dispose of your body.’
“I was taken aback, shaken, really, so when we got back to my place I asked him what he meant by that statement. He denied ever saying such a statement.”
Needless to say, she was freaked out. He left without incident, and she never saw him again. To have the memory of him invoked some twenty years after meeting him by the mention of a serial killer is somewhat disturbing to say the least.
Aside from the story in and of itself, I think I needed to have met her earlier in life. I wave never sought unreciprocated sex for any extended period except for the year I lived with someone I didn’t particularly like or find otherwise attractive, but she was willing to give me unreciprocated sex for the most part for the better part of the year.
I have mentioned it here previously, but sex with her was not engaging. She loved anal, and I did, too, just not with her. We did that probably twice a month. We fucked maybe once a month, but her pussy was so loose, it was not a place I wanted to be. She gave so-so head, but she had had the deepthroat wild card up her sleeve, and she played that just about every other night. On some other nights she was arranging us to get together with other women and couples because she knew I wasn’t really interested in her for her own sake.
To tell you the truth, I should have quit her and moved on much earlier. In the end it was not worth it. As with most things, you have to take into account the entire package. In her case, there was just far too much baggage. On the up side, it was through her I met my wife, so I guess we all have to take the good with the bad.