Forfeiture of Dignity

Chapter 2 Resolve

The sound of church bells ringing disturbed the evening still as they echoed across the clay tile rooftops of the little town in southern Germany where I was sent to resolve a problem that was turning out to be more political than mechanical. I was feeling rather depressed at my situation believing that I was going to be a failure on my first assignment with my new employer but I was suddenly buoyed by the sound of the bells, bringing back fond memories of my youth. It has been a long time since I heard a church bell strike three times to announce the evening angelus. With the large number of churches joining in the call of the faithful the tolling sounded more like a peal than the three crisp clangs I was use to from the only Catholic Church in the small suburban Philadelphia town were I was raised. Many years have passed since the innocence of my youth but I reflexively blessed myself with the sign of the cross and reverently said three Hail Mary's. The reverence may have been more intended than achieved since I was long out of practice but for that moment my fervent desire was to praise God and diminish my personal desires. I finished my prayers with a slow and purposeful sign of the cross.

Following that brief reconciliation with the Lord, I felt at peace with myself and my chest swelled with confidence. I still missed Caitlyn but took comfort in believing that I could now drive my solution through the gauntlet of international politics and fix the problem with the accelerator and be back at home with her by week's end. Funny, but the only difference in me from fifteen minutes ago and now is faith; an acknowledged faith in God and renewed faith in myself.

I walked over to the open window and scanned the scene cluttered by numerous orange and brown rooftops in half shadow from the late day sun. The buildings, though of varying heights aligned in Teutonic order as they neatly followed the curving lanes and alleys, the only anomalies being the spires of the churches and the towers and domes of the public buildings breaking the monotony. The air was clean and free of the hydrocarbon exhaust for the thousands of vehicles that clog the cities. Most people here ride bicycles or take the trolleys to and from work and shopping. A lot of them just walk. This is a very different place than America. It is quaint, bucolic and regimented. There is a part of me that takes comfort in the orderliness of things, the clean streets, the scheduled social events, the celebration of culture. Then there is the damned monotony of it all. The Yank in me has little tolerance for regimentation. So, as a Yank, I can employ the legacy of George S. Patton and do an end run on these guys.

I returned home satisfied with my success. In fact, I was so pumped up that I stayed awake during the entire seven hours of the flight home watching the in-flight movies and reading the tell-all Hollywood gossip magazines, of all things. I was feeling full-of-myself and kind of cocky. I guess that I should have slept because when the plane arrived at Philadelphia, my ass was dragging. I just wanted to get home as quickly as possible but still had an hour ride through traffic before I could reach comfort. I was eager to see my beautiful Caitlyn who always greeted me at the bottom of the escalator in the baggage claim area after every one of these grueling business trips. It was a weekly event with my last Job but those trips were at least domestic flights. This was a first international trip for me so I would have to search extra hard for her while leaving a different terminal. I hoped that she could find me but then again, she was pretty resourceful.

Clearing customs took forever. It wasn't so much Customs as it was the difficulty of snaking through the labyrinth of isolated hallways and corridors before we could even reach customs that seemed like it was located at the opposite end of the airport and once there we had to navigate the countless cattle shoots to find just the right one that fit my status as a qualified citizen of the United States. Having just left Germany, I briefly envisioned the barking uniformed customs agents directing the dazed and confused arriving passengers to the appropriate chute as the Nazi SS. They were demanding in their orders and un-reproachable in their demands. Those unaccustomed to the process looked sheepish as they cowered to the overseers commands and followed their directions blindly. Many of them had dogs tethered to them on long leashes, although the specter of Nazi doom somewhat waned as most of the dogs were lethargic beagles or peppy and friendly lab's. Regardless, the whole thing seemed very un-American.

Fortunately, I had checked my heavy baggage, only carrying my laptop in the slim bag slung over my shoulder. Some of the people were struggling with two obviously heavy carry-on's in a vain attempt to speed their departure from the airport but were immediately intercepted by the uniformed agents and directed to one of the long queues for package inspection. The only inspection of me and my bag was by one of those cute little beagles tethered to an agent by a slim leash used to direct the dog's attention. I passed the sniff test with flying colors and shuffled through the check point and trundled on to baggage claim to pick up the two bags I last saw in Frankfort. I was still in a secure area and getting anxious to see my Caitlyn. I exited the baggage area into a huge concourse bustling with porters, visitors, friends and relatives of arriving passengers, not to mention the ubiquitous disheveled Philadelphia policemen, so unlike the spit and polish of the German cops. There was a gauntlet of chauffeurs and limo drivers lining the tape barrier separating the crowd from the passengers until they could effectively empty into the promenade. That is where I expected her to be. I scanned the line of dark suited people lining the passage thinking she would easily stand out from the mostly male limo drivers holding signs with the name of the expected customer to attract. I didn't see her among them and curiously began to scan those signs as I scurried along. I was shocked to see my name on one of the signs, but there it was. I had an unusual combination of ethnical names and doubted that there was another person with the same name as me anywhere in the world, let alone Philadelphia; yet, there it was. I walked up to the young lady dressed in a man's suit and tie and holding the sign and said, "I'm Rocco Kelly," not really knowing what to expect.

She replied< "Let me take your bags."

Still confused, I asked the stupid question, "Where are you taking me?"

With a chuckle she said, "Home of course."

"Where is that?"

"Don't you know?"

"Yes, I can tell you where I live but I really want to know who sent you."

She looked at her paperwork and scanned it for the customer. Finding the name, she said, "Caitlyn Kelly."

Honestly, I was flabbergasted. Why didn't she pick me up herself? Was there something wrong? What could she be doing on a Saturday afternoon that is more important than me? Where could she be?

When I got back home there was a note on the bed.


I'm glad you're back home.


Sorry that I couldn't pick you up but I had to help Jay and Barb. Jay needed a mate for his company's awards banquet and Barb is running a fever. I'll explain when I get home. I'll probably be very late because there's and after-party he is expected to attend.


Can't wait to see you,



That was a strange choice of words, mate, and the usual Love ya babe was conspicuously absent above her signature. My heart again sank just like it did a few months back after Dave & Dianne's party when I sank into the depths of despair doubting her fidelity. I thought that was all behind us. I made up all kinds of excuses to get out of going to all of the parties since so that I could regain my confidence and reaffirm my masculinity. Since that last party, I got a new job and poured myself into it spending very long hours and most weekends at it to avoid further social entanglement with our old friends. It had never entered my mind until this minute that while I was busy, Catt was not. In fact, she had a lot more idle time on her hands than she did before I got the new job. Maybe she was feeling slighted or worse. Maybe she was feeling lonely and everyone knows what happens when a young vibrant beautiful married woman feels lonely; she finds company.

Of all people for her to be with, Jay was my worst nightmare. He was the one I most feared since I saw them together that disastrous night. I say that but yet I continue to play that night over and over again through my mind both night and day. As damaging that night was to my male ego, it marked the most intensely pleasurable sexual experience I ever had. Every time I think about that night I get an erection. Since the thoughts are almost always with me, I'm usually at half-mast where ever I go and whatever I am doing. I'm not what you would call hung but I pudge up nicely and I've learned to be proud of the display I put on with my bulging package straining whatever I am wearing. I can't describe it as humongous but it is, let's say, observable. More than frequently, almost always, I catch females checking out my crotch as they quickly divert their eyes pretending that I couldn't figure out what they were doing. More than once, I caught men looking at my bulge but they are much more obvious than women and act like there is absolutely nothing wrong with what they are doing. But, among the men, there are those who after being caught in the act, look me strait in the eye and then purposely return their gaze to my bulge to let me know that they have some sort of further interest in it. In all cases, I just pressed on as if nothing happened.

Those distant feelings were cropping up again. Even though it was still early in the evening, I was picturing Catt with her legs spread and Jay aiming his enormous penis directly at the center of her sex. Surely, that wasn't happening, at least at that very moment, because I knew that Jay was the toast of the celebration and that he had prepared a short acceptance speech for the event. He would be quite nervous about now in anticipation of delivering his little speech; he being unaccustomed to giving public address.

I was being whipsawed by my emotions since for every assurance I could conceive, the sheer fact that Catt would be alone with Jay late into the night trumped them all. I was pulled back down to the depths of depression with those familiar images floating through my head. I didn't have to look down to know that my cock was straining against the front of my pants demanding immediate attention from me. I dutifully pulled down my zipper and released my painfully stiff dick from the confines of my underwear, placed my hand around the shaft and commenced the oldest ritual known to man, masturbation. I allowed myself to fantasize about their hot steamy tryst. They would forego the after-party and dash to a secret hideaway where they would consummate their illicit affair with hot, wet, perverted sex. I couldn't get the imagined picture of his enormous penis out of my mind. The first time I had these thoughts, my fantasy granted him the honor of an enormous long and fat cock. Over the last six months, I was guilty of checking Jay's crotch out just like the guys I caught checking out my package only I'm sure that he didn't see me do it. I did everything I could to be discrete in my observations. After all of that study, I am of the opinion that I may actually have underestimated his prowess in my original fantasy. My bulge was just that. My pants kind of bulged a little from the slight swelling of my cock, only that and nothing more. Jay, however, was truly packing. The outline of his thick penis extended down into the leg of his pants. His jeans were actually worn white along where his shaft was squeezed. Beside that, his balls pressed out the front of his pants to possibly twice the size as mine at its most obvious. I only saw him twice wearing jeans but it was quite a site. During those two occasions, I noticed that Catt's eyes were also fixated on his display. There was no hiding it on her part. She was curious and interested. The evenings immediately after each incident, Catt seduced me and rambled on with her cheating soliloquy during sex and she reached similar plateaus as the fateful night after the party while I, in my shame, couldn't cum.

My fantasy had him hovering over her sex but not finding the opening. I was right there with my face between their legs only inches away. Frustrated by his lack of progress, I reached out and grabbed his huge member, allowing it to sear my flesh with its heat. His massive scrotum draped over my wrist and his mammoth balls settled on either side. I held him like that to get accustomed to the feel. His balls slowly moved about as if they were exploring me in return. The hallucination of the silky texture and warmth of his scrotum moving on my arm spurred me on to reach for my own balls to enhance the effect of my masturbation. I allowed that vision to remain while increasing the intensity of self-abuse. I was enjoying the thought of feeling another man's genitals, of the throbbing, pulsing, powerfully firm flesh in my hand. Even though it was only in my mind, I loved its feel and the taboo of man on man sexual contact as perceived by the moral community in which I was raised. The thrill of it was bringing me to the edge.

My mind went back to my sweetheart and the vision of her open cunt before me. I could hear her begging for relief and commanding Jay, by name, to plunge into her and ravage her body. I pulled on his penis to direct it to the fulfillment of her wish but the skin surrounding the shaft followed my fist before he reacted to my gentle tug forward causing the skin to roll up and accumulate under my palm as it slid along his shaft toward an impressive mushroom crown. The progress of my hand was abruptly halted by that massive head and the pressure I was applying was now pulling his hips down toward her leaking cunt. I forced the connection but he soon resumed control over his cock and drove it forward and attempted to enter her hole. I slid my grip back toward his balls until there was at least a hand's width of exposed shaft between my hand and the portion of his cock not yet inside her cunt. Actually, only about half of the mushroom was imbedded in her and it appeared to be encountering significant resistance to its forward progress. I could feel it when he applied pressure and when he relaxed it. He was cycling between the two but still not making much progress. I could hear Catt screaming in what could have been excitement but I was pretty sure it was pain. With my hand still on his cock, I took direct charge of their mating. I pulled him back out against his will and slid the massive gland up and down her slit until I could see her juices overflowing her hole and running down across her asshole. Occasionally, I would reinsert the head of his cock and encourage him to push in as far s he could and when there was no more progress, coupled with Catt's screeches in pain, I would pull him back out and repeat the slippery massage of her cunt. After a good number of these attempts, I realize that she was amply self-lubricated but the mass of his cockhead was just too great to be lubricated only by her weeping's. This all seemed so real but it was just a phantasm of my mind. Regardless, the effect upon me was as real as if my hand was his cock and not my own. I was enjoying this too much for it to end so I let up slightly on my own stroking but delved back into the fantasy to keep the thrill alive. Even I was shocked at the perversity of where my imagination took me next.

Settling back to whimsy I returned to the imagined difficulty Jay's cock was having entering my wife. My blood was again boiling with passion as I concocted a solution to his problem and devised an aid to his penetration, all the while; I was pounding on my own hard cock. Mentally, I pulled his cock out and away from her slippery cunt and with unexplainable gymnastics, over to my mouth where I laved it with my tongue to get it as wet as possible. I could image the smooth texture of the crown and the taste of the seepage from the meatus. I tried desperately to get the large thing in my mouth but to no avail. It was just too big. The flavor though was intoxicating. I couldn't let it go. I worked and worked at his crown losing my original purpose. Catt was somehow no longer there, it was him and me, cock in mouth. Yes, it was somehow in my mouth and drenching my tongue with its leaking fluid. I was myself approaching crescendo while I mentally sucked cock for the first time in my life. My chest was heaving as was his. I could imagine him moaning louder and louder but in reality I was listening to my own noises. Suddenly, the massive cock in my mouth swelled even larger just like my cock does at the moment of climax. Then it happened. I imagined I felt his sperm impact the back of my throat and fill my mouth. Simultaneously, an enormous quantity of my own sperm shot out of the end of my cock and flew nearly completely across the mattress of the bed I was standing against. Each prodigious squirt of my cock was met with an analog burst of Jay's sperm into my mouth. It seemed so real. The impacts, the pressure, the volume, the taste, the sensation of gulping it down, and the viscous coating that lined all the surfaces of my mouth and throat that remained after I swallowed were as real to me as the sperm I shot onto the bedspread before me.

The reverie drained from me like the water poured onto a potted plant. I found myself standing there gripping my balls with one hand, my deflating cock in the other and a big mess to clean up on Caitlyn's favorite bedspread. Even though I was standing there all alone, I felt embarrassed about where my fantasy had taken me. I didn't want to admit it even to myself. I found myself wishing that I had continued with the fantasy of Caitlyn's betrayal. I tried to put the whole thing out f my mind but I was still excited by it. The final act of my little play reprised continually through my mind. I couldn't get it to stop, not even for the real concern of what Catt and Jay might actually be doing.

I tried to busy myself by cleaning up the mess I just made, unpacking from my trip, taking a shower, and making myself a decent meal before preparing for bed. I was beat from the long day of travel and needed a good night's sleep, but sleep was just not in the cards. Over-tired, I was sitting up watching late-night shows wondering when Caitlyn would get home. I tried not to obsess but it was no use. The later it got the madder I got. I was convincing myself that she and Jay were doing it. I just knew it. Why else would she make up this story about an after-party? If anything, it was going to be a party of two.

It was ten minutes to three and still no Caitlyn. I was in a panic. I knew she was fucking him. She was humiliating me. Tears welled up in my eyes as I asked myself what did I do to drive her to him. Was I that bad of a lover? Was there something wrong with my dick? Was it too small? Even if that were the case, why would she be so cruel?

Suddenly I heard noise at the door from the bottom of the steps. I could hear her key sliding through the tumblers in the lock and the click of the deadbolt as it released its hold on the frame to allow her to turn the knob to open the door. Her movements were swift and unabashed. She shut the door behind her, re-latched the lock and energetically bounded up the stairs calling, "Honey! Are you still awake?"

Her bright face came into view as she got about three quarters of the way up the steps. Her bright blue eyes were twinkling above her cheeks bunched up from the big smile that was flashing her perfect white teeth. I felt light-headed like I was about to pass out convinced at what she had just done with Jay. She kept her smile as she reached the top of the steps and entered the room but through it I could see her consternation as she observed the anger in my expression.

"I'm sorry I'm so late but Jay and Barb just got home" she explained.

I wasn't sure what I was hearing. I probably looked pretty bizarre as I contemplated what she just said and unraveled the emotional tangle that I had ensnared myself with by my runaway imagination. Fighting back tears I asked her to explain.

"I thought Barb was sick and you were going out with Jay" I pleaded.

"First of all, I was not going to go out with Jay. I was going to go with him in Barb`s place but she decided to force herself to go and I stayed to watch Jamal." She said in protest.

I felt relieved. I had forgotten about their foster child Jamal. He was only nine months old and Catt was head over heals in love with the child. The kid's cute but I couldn't understand why the girls were making such a fuss over him. I was about to find out.

"Roc, when do you think we can start a family" she said in a curiously sincere way.

With the emotional upheaval I experienced throughout the past twenty four hours, I was not in a mood to think about such a major change t our lives.

I barked, "We haven't celebrated our first anniversary yet and you're already pressuring me for a baby!"

She looked crushed. The smile melted away from her face replaced by the sad puppy dog look. She didn't say another word but walked slumped shoulder over to where I was standing and stood there in anticipation of me giving her an I'm-home kiss which I did while drawing her to me in a loving embrace. I don't know what I was thinking but then again, yes I do. I was thinking of her being very fertile while all those more attractive men hover over her wishing to impregnate her with genitals that are more impressive than mine, more worthy than mine, more desirable than mine. I am not able to shake off these doubts. Ever since that night when she mentioned Jay by name in her dirty-talk during our love-making I have been plagued with the depressing realization that I am not the greatest lover she could have. Hell, I'm not even mediocre if current pornography is at all representative of available American male sexual attributes.

I'm so confused, I no longer know if my doubts are of me or of her. Are my mating qualifications lacking or have her expectations changed. She was a virgin when we married so she had no point of genital reference but now that she has seen what she has seen at that disgusting hedonistic party, who knows what she's thinking or what she may now desire in a mate.

Several days passed since I returned from Germany and my turbulent homecoming. Catt was very different around me since then. I felt that we were drifting apart and was really spiraling deeper into depression. She hardly talked to me. At night in bed, she stayed so far away from me on the king-sized mattress that I may as well have been sleeping in the bed back in Germany. In the morning, I was greeted with a unconvincing "Good Morning" and a quick peck on the cheek and then off to work. Before all of this, things were pretty hot between us in the morning and we sometimes were late for work, very late for work; Now, nothing. I had to do something. I had to confront her when we get home from work that night.

That was the longest day I ever experienced and the anticipation and worry about what I was going to say took a toll on my spirit. I had hoped to be in high spirits so as not to provoke a fight but that was now out of my hands and well beyond my control. Somehow, I had to avoid sparking a fracas.

To make things worse, that night I got home before she did. That left me with even more time to fret about what I was going to say. I didn't even know how I was going to start. Of the million opening scenarios that went through my head during the day, I couldn't recall one of them. For the first time as an adult I thought I was going to break down and cry. I busied myself by changing my clothes and starting dinner. I had just thrown a casserole that Catt prepared the night before in the oven when she came bounding up the steps. She glided over to me with a big smile, threw her arms around me and greeted me with a big wet kiss.

"What's this?" I said in a voice disguised as much as possible to hide my despair and attempt to match her apparent joy.

She seemed so happy that I'll bet she didn't notice anything about my mood let alone my despair. She started bouncing and twirling around the living room throwing off pieces of her clothing as she undressed.

"Guess what!" she shouted in excitement.

"I don't know. What?" I said in exasperation.

"I'm going to law school."

"You're what!"

"They are going to send me to law school and they are going to pay for everything." She shouted. "My God I'm so happy. I can't believe it. They are going to pay to send me to law school."

I was so shocked I couldn't talk. I just stood there while she turned her glee into a gloat. I have to say, she looked very sexy dancing around performing a strip tease while she sang at the top of her voice. She got all the way down to her pantyhose and bra before she stopped rubbing it in.

Out of breath, she looked at me and shouted, "They believe in me!"

"I believe in you too Catt," I said in an almost quizzical tone hoping she would acknowledge my, to date, unspoken support. You know, it's funny how we think we imply our feelings to the people close to us and expect them to understand just how we feel but upon an honest examination of conscience you find that you really didn't have let alone show that critical belief in your partner. The truth is that I thought I was the smart one in our marriage. I have the master's degree and she only a bachelors. I really felt superior to her in almost every way except for looks, and I guess personality. Oh yes, she has more friends than me, she can sing, she can dance, she can ski, she's artistic. Shit! I guess she has a lot more on the ball than I gave her credit. That got me thinking and the introspection was taking me a lot deeper into the abyss of despair. Upon a little more thought, I wondered why the firm she worked for would do this. Was it that she was so smart or was it because she was drop-dead beautiful? By this time, she had sloughed off her pantyhose and removed her bra to reveal the most beautiful body there ever was on a woman. That's it! I know her bosses have been sniffing around her since they gave her the job and now they are setting an irresistible bate to snare her into a loyalty that will lead inevitably to what all male's desire, sexual conquest. That must be the reason her boss offered to pay out the thousands of dollars it will cost to send her to law school.

I was never going to be able to avoid the obvious. I'm married to an extremely beautiful woman who will always attract rutting bucks and I'm ill-equipped to defend my mating rights. Her boss has laid down a prodigious scrape and scented with lure of personal success. With all of my worry about Jay, I now have a more dangerous suitor to fend off if I am to keep my beautiful wife. The only solution I could come up with was to make her pregnant. Maybe then the challengers would back off. I was desperate for a solution.

We were both exhausted and it was almost dawn but in desperation I had to stake my claim to, or should I say in my wife. She was posing for me clad only in scant panties, assuming one seductive pose after another like she was a Playboy model. At first, she was just being playful but soon I could see that she was working up a sexual apatite. Her light-brown nipples were contracting from large disks to cylindrical caps similar in size to a nipple on a baby's bottle. Her cheeks began to flush as her poses became more erotic. She sat on the on the couch and did that sexy leg crossing and uncrossing routine that showgirls often do and then she reclined on her side bringing her long legs onto the cushions raising one bent at the knee and perpendicular to the other revealing her very swollen vulva. That pose finally got to me and despite the fatigue my cock started to thicken as blood pumped into it in preparation for duty. When she started to slide her hands all over her body, it found the opening in the front of my pajamas and popped through to solute her efforts. Smiling, she opened her legs as an invitation for me to enter her. This was all playing into my evolving plan to reclaim her. She was too worked up to think about birth control and I estimated that she was in the fertile part of her cycle. This was it. I was going to do it. I must have leapt across the room since before I knew it; I was between her legs and working my cock into her without even removing my pajama bottoms. I fucked her through the fly. The fabric shield between our bodies was at first annoying but as it became soaked with her juices, it added a new dimension to our lustful expression. It became so wet that it began making a swishing sound and eventually a muted slapping sound as I pounded her pussy. But, aside from its novelty, the pajamas were keeping her away from me. My penetration of her was strictly one of sex and not love, the feeling on my cock was intense but not emotionally binding. In this mode, my mind again wandered back to imagine her lying there on her back with her legs splayed open but another man pumping into her. That is all it took. That briefly flashing image sent me into a violent climax and I poured my seed into her fertile womb. Unfortunately, she was nowhere near peaking and begged me to stay with it and bring her off. It was too late for that. I was too tired to retain an erection or continue the pounding it would take to get her off but my love for her wouldn't allow me to leave her hanging. With the loss of my potency, I had few options. My hands were not going to do it. Looking down between her legs at the center of her sex made me know full well what I had to do. Her gash was swollen bright red with passion and coated with frothy foam churned from out combined fluids by my frantic pounding in her hole which was itself overflowing with pearly white sperm as it leaked down between her ass cheeks.

The sight of such a mess would normally turn my stomach. I can't even look at egg albumen without gagging but my love and lust for her overpowered my revulsion and I bent down to bring her off with my mouth. I had hoped to dodge most of the phlegm churning below but it was impossible to avoid. I hadn't anticipated her thrusting her hips up to meet me resulting in a critical misalignment, placing my open mouth directly onto her oozing vagina. Before I could react, a large dollop of sperm plopped onto my tongue and I inadvertently brought it into my mouth as I closed my lips in an attempt to avoid what actually happened. Amazingly, instead of vomiting, my first taste of sperm caused me to instantly sprout an erection. Those dangerous fantasies flashed through my head and the sperm in my mouth became that of a swain more desirable to her than me. I was so excited by this fantasy that I went right back to her hole and noisily slurped up all the jizz at the hugely dilated orifice. I could feel her bend up to peer at what I was doing which added to my mortification. I felt weak and emasculated but extremely sexually excited. This was the most erotic thing I had ever done. I paid no attention to her as I proceeded to lave her clean by removing all traces of froth and goop in her cunt but could feel her eyes on me the entire time. After depleting her hole of all available scum, I moved up to my original target and took her fully erect faux penis between my lips and swirled my slimy coated tongue around it. She immediately relaxed her position and reclined into her own private erotic trance. It took only seconds for her to begin to pop off in orgasms, one after another. I stayed with it until she could bare it no more and pried my head away from her cunt as her pleasure turned to pain. I looked up and our eyes locked but the communication between us was more quizzical on her part that than ardent. I could sense her doubt about what she saw me do. She was looking at me through a clearer lens than me. The fog of our honeymoon was lifted and she looked directly at my weakness. No longer her steed, I was a wimpy gelding. Her expression was one of disgust as she swung her leg over my head and bounded to the bathroom.

I collapsed with my face settling onto the cushion soaked with the remnants of our emissions. I was no longer embarrassed as a supplicant but titillated. I reveled in my lowly station. I finally realized that I had a desperate need to be dominated by a sexually superior male and that was going to bring that about by using my irresistible wife.