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“Don, I got tickets for the concert in the park for next month. I hope the weather will be nice for it,” I said to my husband as he stuffed papers into his briefcase. “I do love concerts in the park. Don’t you?”
“Hmm,” was all he said “Where is my agenda?”
I tried not to feel hurt by him brushing me off. It was nothing new these days. He’d been so busy with work lately that he didn’t seem to have time for me or anything else. I sighed and handed him the leather bound book. He took it without a word and zipped up his messenger bag. Slinging it over his shoulders, he picked up his travel bag and suitcase. He was off to another business trip.
“I have to go. I’ll call you from the airport,” he said as he headed downstairs. I followed him.
“Where are you going this time?” I asked.
“How long will you be gone?”
Don shrugged. “I’m not sure. What’s with all the questions, huh? I’ll be back when I’m done.”
I looked at him. “I’m sorry, dear. I want to know because I miss you when you’re gone. That’s all. I’m not trying to get in your business.”
He glanced at me over his shoulder briefly before checking his phone. “That’s probably a good thing,” he snapped. He finished typing the text and stuffed the phone in his pocket. “Look Katerina, I don’t like being gone so much anymore than you do. But you’re not working much anymore. Maybe a gig here or there. And-”
“My agent gets jobs for me, Don,” I protested softly. “I can’t help it that the agencies want younger models.”
Don snorted. “Be that as it may, I don’t know why you still try. Face it, baby. You’re modeling days are over.”
Hurt washed over me but I didn’t let him see it. He’d been saying that a lot as of late. Not like I really needed to be reminded. Every rejection phone call from my agent and every glance in the mirror is reminder enough for me that my career is over. “I guess I just haven’t landed the right job yet.”
“Well, until that day comes, if it ever does, I still have to work.”
“I know. It’s just, well, we don’t get to spend much time together. And-”
Don made a...
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Monday morning was no exception. Mia read the email seconds after dragging herself out of bed. She hadn’t had her coffee yet, but the email’s explosive content jolted her wide awake.
After years of marriage, my husband and I had become accustomed to wild, passionate sex night after night – sometimes up to three or four times a day.
Taking a break from the email, Mia fanned herself. “Three or four times a day?” she shouted. “Whew!”
But lately things have changed. His hours at work have picked up, leaving him exhausted when he comes home at night. To put it bluntly, I want more. I’d love to return to the days of endless lovemaking between the two of us, the days where he would spend hours tickling my body with gentle strokes and licks until I simply couldn’t take it anymore.
Mia leaned back in her chair easing her legs apart slowly. It was a challenge to keep her mind from drifting, but she somehow kept reading.
The problem is I’m too shy to demand what I want from...