Thursday, October 1, 2009
The garbage can beside my bed is a wilted bouquet of used condoms and wrappers. The woman in my bed is not my wife. My wife is out in the living room, on the fold out couch, fucking the husband of the woman in my bed. We met them at State College about a month ago. He’s a nice guy, good-looking, courteous, well-mannered, respectful, and polite. He’s the kind of guy that you can let fuck your wife without any apprehensions. Apparently, I am also that type of guy. We’ve made an unspoken game out of trying to make the other man’s wife cum louder and more frequently. I don’t think that anybody is actually keeping score, though.