A new spark

My name is Dillon and I’m bored. I never imagined my life as an executive administrator to be a whirlwind of excitement, but this is getting out of hand. I can handle not having the most glamorous job in the world, however to come home and be even more bored than I am at the office, is starting to get to me.

At home waiting for me every day is my longtime girlfriend, Veronica. A very beautiful and once interesting woman. However every day has become the same grind, I come home and attempt to kiss her hallo. She then coldly turns her cheek towards me and tells me that dinner will be ready in ten minutes.

Dinner is eaten in front of the TV, after which I do the dishes and she goes to the country club. I think the whole time we say not more than 20 words to each other. I’ve tried changing things up, by offering to cook, or going out or suggesting fun things to do together. Every once in a while she bites but mostly I get the cold shoulder.

I’m not a country club person and neither was Veronica when we met. Through the years this has changed. Our jobs and incomes got bigger. Big enough, to receive an invitation to a private club. I go every once in a while to play squash or use the fitness facilities. Veronica on the other hand has embraced the country club lifestyle. The outfits, functions and gossip. Lots of it. Who does what to whom and where. She used to tell me every detail. After a row one day, where in I made clear, I was not interested in all that noise, she’s gone quiet about the whole thing.

While she’s at the club I do some work, watch TV, and most days, porn. Mind you, I watch porn but only once or twice a week do I masturbate. I watch it for the distraction, browsing through porn-sites trying to find that one scene that’ll illicit a response. Most days I can’t find whatever my caveman brain is looking for. I used to hide my on-line activity but now, it’s gotten to the point that I stopped clearing my browser history. In fact, I hope she finds it, it might spark something in her. I’ve tried everything else. Long massages, going down on her for ages, foreplay in which she is completely uninterested. When I try to talk to her about it, I either get called a perv or given a brush off, like, I’m tired.

I’m starting to give up. But not easily swayed I decide to give it one more big try. A plan for Friday night. The morning starts like any other. I get up at five to go to work, leaving Veronica asleep. On my way back from work I reserve an extravagant hotel room, with a romantic view and large Jacuzzi bath, I also buy some flowers and her favorite chocolates. My plan is to pick her up from the club and whisk her off, for an evening get away.
On coming home I sneak into her car and put the chocolates in her glove box. Giving her the flowers, she replies that they’re nice but it so wasteful because they’ll just wilt and die.

“Strike one, swing and a miss.”

During dinner there is a conversation, but it centers around the flowers and about how she and her friends formed a committee, to have the club stop buying flowers and start using plants as decoration. This all to help the environment. My response, that the club should turn the golf course into a park to help the environment, does not go over well.

After dinner and in a bit of a huff, she leaves. Five minutes later, I text her to look in the glove box. I get a response saying that she’ll just have to exercise more to burn of the fat.

“Strike two, another swing and a miss.”

My resolve is waning but not gone, so an hour later I get in my car and head to the club. Veronica usually does not spend more than an hour on the tennis court.

When I arrive I ask the concierge where I might find Veronica, but he tells me he has not seen her. Not wanting to spoil the surprise I send a text asking how her tennis game was and if she’s at a table with her friends. I get a response back that the game was fine and she’s having an ice tea. On my way to the bar, I run into one of her friends, who in passing says, ”Dillon, long time, you and Veronica should come to the club more often, we miss you guys.”

This stops me in my tracks. I try to respond, but by the time my brain has processed this information, she has turn the corner. I head to my car and my mind immediately goes to an affair. It fits, the disinterest in me, the terrible sex and every night going out and lying about where.

Using a lie about being drunk and forgetting where I parked my car, I find out from the car track company where it is. It’s on a street I know, but not wanting to draw anymore conclusions I just drive there. I park at the end of the street and walk up. My suspicions are realized when I find her car. It’s parked in front of the house of one of our mutual friends. Brad and Mary van Hooyten. He’s a big wig lawyer and she’s a socialite country clubber. Mary’s probably at the club right now. I move towards the house and decide to go around back. The backyard is lit up. Hiding behind one of the bushes I see two people in the hot tub, Brad and Veronica. It looks like whatever amorous activity they were up to is done.

“Strike three, you’re out.”

Something turns in me. I should be hopping mad, I should go over there and kick his ass and yell at her, but I simply don’t care. I stand there realizing that it doesn’t hurt me to see this. It actually feels liberating. I had been starting to doubt myself and my ability in the bedroom.

I snap a picture of the scene, so that when I confront her I don’t get five rounds of denial before the truth comes out. I then turn around and leave.

Relieved and with a new found energy I walk to my car. When I get in I decide not to go home but to the hotel. After checking in, I briefly consider either going to the bar and trying my luck or perhaps try to find an escort service. Neither feels right, so I run the bath and watch a basketball game from the tub.

When I’m dried off and lying in bed, I get a little antsy. So I order some pay per view porn and decide to get some relief. I flip through a few scenes and finally land on one with a woman who has a rubenesque quality. She gets taken every which way and seems to enjoy it. When the couple climaxes, so do I. Ropes of cum shoot from me and onto my chest. It’s the best orgasm I’ve had in months. After some cleanup I fall in a deep sleep.

When I come home the next day, there is barely any surprise. I tell Veronica that I was working late after which we had some drinks and so I stayed over at a motel. If she can lie, then so can I. This explanation is excepted without any question.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

In his backyard, my best friend Jerry is flipping burgers and knocking back a beer. Our standing Saturday, meat, beer and sports afternoon is in full swing.

“I dunno.”

“Ditch the bitch. Come live the single life with me!”

“Thought about that, obviously, but it feels incomplete somehow, not sure how to describe it.”

“You need some revenge, my friend.”

“uhm,..”

“Yeah! That’s it. Find some chick, bang each other’s brains out and then decide what to do with the bitch.”

“Veronica is not a…” But I correct myself. I share a look with Jerry.

“I get it man, you’ve been together since college, but she’s been banging this guy for how long?”

“No clue, but a while now, I guess.”

“And during this time did you guys ever, you know?”

“Not often and never very well.”

This kills the conversation. And we go back to the beer, meat and sports. At the end of the evening Jerry tells me, “he, mi Cassa et su Casse, dude. If you ever need a place to crash.”

“Thanx.”

When I arrive back home I find a note from Veronica telling me she’s at the club.

“Right, sure you are.”

Just then my phone chimes in with a message. It’s from Jerry. He sent me a link. I go to my computer and open it up. It’s a dating site for people who are already in a relationship. Parttimelover.com

A second message from Jerry reads that he scored some nice trim on this site. To my observation that he’s single and this website is for people who are not, he simply replies, “so?”

Curious, I create an account. And after paying a fee, I start to browse the available profiles. At first I’m a little disappointed because all of the photos are either body parts or taken from the neck down. It dawns on me however, that due to the nature of the site this does make sense. I find some profiles that peek my interest. So after I upload a picture of myself and fill in some details, I start reading more in depth into the profiles that took my fancy. The site offers the sending of a ‘wink’ to someone. This seems harmless enough so I pick three ladies and wink away. After having done this I notice that all three ladies have one thing in common. They have the same body type as the woman from the porn video the other night.

While reflecting on this, a small sound alert tells me I’ve been winked back. A lady named boredwife329. The photo in her profile is of a wonderfully curvaceous woman. She’s wearing a body hugging blue dress, which comes down to just over her knees. Married for 11 years and no kids. The only other physical descriptor are her brown eyes. Her profile description is quite short and tells me that her husband barely pays her any attention and she’s seeking a man to spend some time with.

Even though this is not much to go on, I’m interested enough to find out more. I open up a chat window.

“Hi there. How are you?”

A minute goes by, two, five and just when I’m about to give up.

“Hi. A bit bored, but otherwise fine. You?”

“Bored, but fine, I’ll share that sentiment.”

“What brings you to this site?”

Wanting to keep some anonymity I don’t reveal the whole truth.

“A relationship that has lost every spark. Even after trying multiple times to reignite it, she barely notices me anymore.”

“Wife?”

“Not married, but been together for 14 years now.”

“Sounds similar to my predicament. Hey, I’d love to talk some more, but I have to sign off now. Speak to you soon.”

“I’d like that. Have a nice day.”

“Thank you, you too.”

With a small chime the chat window closes. Feeling that my first outing in the on-line dating world resulted in a conversation, short but a conversation non the less, I call it a success and plan on logging back on later.
I rub one out while looking in the BBW section of a porn site. But mostly I get turn on by the thought of removing the blue dress and having passion filled sex with the woman on the other side of the chat window.

I keep checking the site the rest of the day and the following Sunday but not until late in the evening does the blue dress reappear. She sends me a message apologizing for still being unable to have a longer conversation with me. We make an appointment for the next evening.

The workday crawls by at a snail’s pace and to top it off Veronica takes her time fucking-off to the ‘club’. The whole day, all I can see is that body in the blue dress. When finally, I’m alone I rush to my computer and log on. She’s there waiting for me. In the conversation that follows we talk about our lives and our significant others. She tells me that her husband almost never wants to have sex with her anymore. I reply by saying I didn’t know men like that existed. This is funny to her. I elaborate how I found out about Veronica’s indiscretion and tell her I don’t have a good reason why I haven’t left yet. She tells me that she does not suspect her husband of having an affair to which I reply that I didn’t suspect Veronica either. We end the conversation with the promise of chatting again the next evening and then talking about what we might want from each other. I end my day the same as I did yesterday and imagining and hoping she’s doing the same.

When Veronica slides into bed next to me, I tell myself to have a little fun with the situation.

“How are things at the club?”

“Fine.”

“I might go with you tomorrow. See if I can beat Brad at a squash game.”

“Oh, uhm…”

This is almost too much fun.

“Brad won’t be there. He and Mary are in the Vineyards.”

“Funny, I think I saw Mary on my way home today.”

“Must have been someone else, then.”

“Must have been, good night.”

“Good night.”

Once more the workday was cruelly slow. The upside however was a note from Veronica giving a club related reason for her absence. If she was still trying to keep her affair a secret, she wasn’t doing a very good job of it.