I wonder how many of us would go down to the crossroads and elect for a life of breathtaking experience and misery rather than mediocrity and comfort.

According to the closeted E.M. Forster, “most of life is so dull that there is nothing to be said about it, and those who talk about it as interesting are obliged to exaggerate, in hopes of justifying their own existence.”

Yet, if you’re an obsessive like me, there is a certain glorious insanity to the roller-coaster of emotions required to make each day worthwhile.

For instance, when I married, I didn’t realize my wife was congenitally unfaithful; it turned out she was omnivorous in her desire to experience the full range of cock. This made life far from ordinary and settled as I traversed the extremes of splendor and strangeness.

Why didn’t I leave my wife? Chief among reasons, I loved her - hopelessly. And, of course, this lewd delinquency actually fueled my desire for her. I was nothing less than an addict who always carved one more fix. My wife knew this and turned up the volume repeatedly.

Aside from being openly cucked, what tormented me more exquisitely was that her boytoys were drawn from among the jeunesse dorée. My 38-year-old wife happily abandoned herself to these transient lovers with enticing blow jobs and precise vaginal expertise.

One specific 24-year-old Eurotrash she fucked in a sleazy seaside motel really sent me off the rails. Although I usually affected an air of world-weary decadence and conveyed a self-conscious passion for Joris-Karl Huysmans, I could also be petulant about my wife’s promiscuity. The fact that her newest lover was half my age distressed me a little.

“Enough with the kvetching, already,” she scolded. “Just because he has a wonderfully thick cock doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you. Stop being such a size queen. Don’t forget, I love you.”

Inflamed because my wife behaved wantonly for a much younger man, I obsessed about how easily he filled her mouth with hot cum.

“Go ahead and kiss me,” she invited. “You know the young man forced me to my knees and made me suck his beautiful cock.”
“Yes, I know.”
“You also know that I pleased him in every way.”
“Why do you give yourself to other men?”

My wife put her arms around my neck and kissed me tenderly. The fresh fragrance of her lover’s spent cock overwhelmed her breath.

“You know why I fuck other men,” she said nonchalantly.
“No, tell me, again.”

Continued …

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