Tom had long ago recognized the destructive pattern in his own behavior. His marriage was in a shambles. His sex life was a big fat nothing. His only true friend and ally seemed to be a trusty bottle of rye.
For several weeks he worked harder at his job than he ever had before. And when he wasn't working, he was boozing.
Until the night he decided that enough was enough.
It was time some things got taken care of.
For one thing, he was horny. Incredibly horny. He hadn't fucked his wife since he couldn't remember when. For a while, with all the working and drinking, he had tried to convince himself that it didn't matter. That he had neither the time nor the inclination for a soft wet pussy.
But then he let himself think about what it was really like. He let himself remember the way a wet cunt clings to an aching cock, rubs it, massages it… until there's just no way a guy can hold on any longer. He let himself think about the way a couple of soft firm tits yield under a strong embrace. And he wanted to feel a hot cunt around his cock. He wanted to fondle a pair of round swelling tits.
His first try at satisfying his aching horniness had been the night he tried to gab his wife when she got home from work and a drink "with the girls". That had been a dismal failure.
Then be started to notice some of the women at the bar he had got into the habit of visiting with the guys. One of them was a tall sexy blonde with a pair of knockers out front that made him drool just to think about them.
He watched tier for a couple of days, without making any attempt to meet her. Then he had a few words with a guy named Joe, who seemed to know her.
"Do you think you could introduce me, Joe?" Joe was surprised. Somehow he had gotten the idea that Tom was the faithful homebody type. But every guy had to get a roving eye sometime. "Sure, old buddy. Fay is always gad to meet a new guy."
Tom felt a little awestruck when he was brought face-to-face with the full-blown blonde. She smiled invitingly at him. It was an unmistakable smile, one that told him he was in like Flint.
But for just an instant something inside him recoiled. This wasn't Heather. This wasn't his beautiful, red-headed wife. He hadn't fucked anyone but her for so long, it seemed almost evil to even think of such a thing.
Then his suspicions about Heather rose to the fore. She couldn't be with the girls as often as she claimed. And any woman as sexy as Heather just had to be getting it somewhere else when she wasn't even bothering him. He had never really let himself deal with that near-reality.