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October 10th Blog
Entry: I’m not stupid.
I know that
not everything in life is going to be
bells and whistles,
cake and
flowers, sunshine and rainbows … you get my drift.
And for the
most part, my
life is
satisfactory; good job,
nice home, hot car,
loving family,
great friends, and an adequate, familiar
marriage.
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I
live a simple life.
It’s so simple, it’s complex.
It’s too
easy, too
predictable, and simple
things that I
want—to
eat a restaurant that I choose, to stay in instead of going out, to choose the
movie, to choose my clothes, to do it
doggy-
style, to do it in the living room instead of the
bedroom, on the sofa, in the car—I go
without.
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From the outside, I look like I
have it
all.
But you know as well as I do, my blog followers, that on the inside, I’m a hallow
shell of the person I
long to be.
I ask
myself the
same three questions multiple times a day,
every day; Can’t I have
just a little bit of excitement?
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Can’t I
find my
voice? Can’t I
get a
little in the backdoor? And with no
answers in
sight,
here I
sit, webbed in yet another day of my fucked up life.
I had heard it all before.
I nodded and worked to keep my eyes from rolling with frustrated disgust.
So, you
see here … you’re Ph balance is out-a-whack. Kinky sex
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Just fix it, you old
fuck, I said to myself.
Can you fix it? I kindly
requested.
Yep … that’s what your husband
pays me
for.
I turned away and finally
allowed my
eyes to roll.
It felt
good, like the small
act was invented solely to relive my vexation.
I’ve worked with this man each month for
two years, and it’s
the same old shit; he comes, he checks the water, he
tells me there’s a problem, waits for me to ask him to do
his job, and then
does it. Sex na cam.
Sounds good, I replied habitually.
I looked around the small addition
off the back of the
house.
Added at my
husband Jake’s persistence, the addition
was built to
hold an expensive, custom-built lap pool.
The initial
conversation about the add-on replayed often in my mind, every time I stepped inside the room
come to think of it, and it wasn’t a
pleasant memory.
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Jake’s
deep voice said, I’d give my left
nut to
have an
indoor lap pool.
You would? I asked.
But you don't swim.
Fuck it.
We’re getting the pool.
But Jake— But
nothing.
We’re
getting the pool and that’s that.
Okay, I said, the memory still
fresh, still
painful. Fuck
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Did you hear me,
Mrs.
Paul? Oh, sorry Gray.
What? The pool’s clean.
I just gotta check one
more thing, he said,
turning his
back to me and
walking to the
hidden supply cabinet at the far end of the building.
I sat
down like I did each
time he
came to clean the pool.
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I
watched the old man
work while secret sentiments for my husband swam around inside my
head.
How
many times
has he
even swum in the GD pool?
Three …
four maybe?
What a
dickhead.
I use this pool more than he does.
Left nut, my ass! And he
leaves me
here every time that
old fucker comes to clean it while he goes golfing with his
buddies. Ugly old
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I hate him.
I— Mrs.
Paul? Sorry, I said again as I stood.
There’s a problem with
your pool.
Wanna
take a
look? He
pointed in the
direction of the
other side of the pool
where a wall of windows that exposed everything inside the
small addition to the outside
world sat.
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As I circled the far end of the lap pool, I remembered the
one and
only time I
had ever tried to use the pool to my advantage.
Jake had been out of
town on business for
over two weeks, and I was hurting for
some attention.
I was
horny,
willing, and more
than ready to
move our sex life
out of the bedroom and away
from the boring
Missionary position we always used into something a bit spicier.
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The memory, like most with my husband, was
intense.
Just a year
into the marriage,
and I was
bored … bored and
longing for more.
Upon seeing Jake’s
car pull into the garage, I ran to the pool.
I
stripped naked, down to the
yellow ribbon I wore in my
hair that day, and jumped head
first into the warm,
clean water.
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When he walked in and saw my
naked body floating on the pool's surface, he stopped dead in his tracks.
I expected fireworks.
I was so
excited, and the thought of him ravaging my
needy body in the warm bath was a turn on, to say the least.
My wants and needs were obvious; my
expression pleaded with
him to engage
with me and my
pussy ached for him to fuck it. Temple me sex dating.
What the hell
are you
doing? he yelled from across the
room.
His
face, the anger and disappointment,
showed how he truly felt about my stunt.
He ran to where my
clothes were and scooped
them up.
He was furious.
He stood
with his back to the
windows, in
between me and the glass, and
frantically motioned for me to get out of the water.
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