scifilover
01-06-2015, 07:57 PM
I roll off of you and lie by your side, panting and out of breath.
"That felt amazing, babe", I say, my hand resting on your arm. I look over when you don't reply.
"Jenn?", I inquire.
"It was good, babe", you say.
"Good? Good?! A B on a paper is good. A decent day at work is good. My class today was good. The commute on the bus was good. Sex with my fiancee' isn't supposed to be good", I reply, pulling away, my ego bruised.
"What was wrong with it?"
"Forget it", you reply.
"I'm not going to", I say. "You really hurt my feelings just now. Am I not attractive anymore? Do you want that guy you were oogling in the movie yesterday?", I say, painfully aware of how immature I am sounding.
"What! No. I don't, Rich. That is a movie!!! I said yes to marrying you, didn't I? FORGET IT!", you exclaim, moving away from me.
I jump out of the bed with a huff, pull on an old pair of ugly boxers and a tshirt and grab my pillow. I leave the bedroom without a word and make myself comfortable on the couch.
'What is going on here?', I ask myself. I go over everything sexual that has ever happened between us, everything you have ever told me, every expression you have made, every gesture, every suggestion.
"I really get tired of missionary", I recall you saying. "I really wish you were more romantic in bed". "I wish you acted more manly and focused on me more." "I wish you were more confident." "I wish you wooed me." "I wish that we changed things up, that we did different positions." "I wish you initiated more, that every once in a while you just went for me and "took me."
All of this time you had been telling me the truth. I never listened. It was never about my body. You loved my body. You thought I was sexy, and always had! It just went in one ear and out the other. All of this time I dismissed what you said as a personal attack. How dare you say I am not amazing in bed! How dare you tell me that I could do better! That any improvement was necessary! How dare you tell me anything other than I am a great fuck!
No wonder you had stopped expressing how you felt altogether. I never listened, so you stopped saying anything other than "it was good, babe."
I ran over to the office and grabbed a pen and paper to jot down ideas. What did the men do in those romantic comedies and tv shows you made me watch? How did they talk to women? How did they flirt? How did they have sex? I wrote down all of it. I noted everything I could think of, and then I put a plan in action.
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The next morning you glare at me when you walk out of the bedroom for breakfast. We don't speak. We don't touch. It feels like we are leaving a few miles of space between us when we move about uncomfortably in the kitchen. You are still furious with me and I am avoiding any aftershocks that might come my way should I say anything to you. You look at me with a cold, hard glance when you slowly put on your engagement ring to finish your outfit. The unspoken message is clear:
'I love you.... but you are being an ass and things need to change!' Your eyes say all of this. There is no need for words. We both leave for work in silence. When my work day is finally over I head over to the mall and buy what I need. I stash it all on the top shelf in the kitchen counter, having nowhere else in the house that you don't use.
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I am standing out on the balcony when I hear the bedroom door open and see you walk by out of the corner of my eye. I quickly turn around on my yoga mat, turning my back to the sliding door. I wait. A couple of seconds later I hear the glass door slide open, subsequently hearing you utter your first words to me in two whole days.
"Richard.......what are you.....doing?", you ask.
"Just my morning yoga routine", I reply, as I transition from sunrise pose to warrior II pose, keeping my gaze facing forward and pretending not to notice your reactions. But I am actually listening for every shift in your voice.
I hear a quiet gasp. There is a short pause of silence. I listen to your breath as I imagine your gaze flowing from my head, to my bare, toned chest and arms, down to my tight, thin yoga pants. I have no doubt that you have noticed the flexing of my leg muscles in this pose, as well as the bulge of my flaccid penis under the tight material.
You're taking deeper breaths now, as I finish my routine and relax into a normal standing position. I grab my towel from the railing and turn back to face you.
"Good morning, sunshine", I say as I approach you, wiping sweat from my brow.
"Goo....goo....good morning, babe", you say as you look me up and down, before pulling me towards you. I kiss your forehead.
"How did you sleep?"
"Good, thank you", you say, with a quick but noticeable glance at my crotch.
I hold your upper arms as I kiss your cheek, before moving down your throat, neck, shoulders. I am about to kiss your upper chest when you pull away abruptly.
"It is about time to have breakfast, isn't it?", you ask, your face flushed, and a somewhat bewildered look on your face. I imagine you are thinking something along the lines of: 'who are you, and what have you done with my fiance?'
"Absolutely. There should still be time for me to make us both omelettes", I say as I move past you towards the kitchen.
"Just a small one for me, please. I don't eat as much as you", I hear you say from behind me.
As you walk into the apartment, I glance your way and your eyes just about pop out of your head.
"I really worked up a sweat out there and since I am going to be getting a shower soon anyway, I thought why not. You don't mind do you?"
You look up and down my naked form as I pull out a skillet from the kitchen door, a simple nod your only response as you watch me begin to cook breakfast.
"That felt amazing, babe", I say, my hand resting on your arm. I look over when you don't reply.
"Jenn?", I inquire.
"It was good, babe", you say.
"Good? Good?! A B on a paper is good. A decent day at work is good. My class today was good. The commute on the bus was good. Sex with my fiancee' isn't supposed to be good", I reply, pulling away, my ego bruised.
"What was wrong with it?"
"Forget it", you reply.
"I'm not going to", I say. "You really hurt my feelings just now. Am I not attractive anymore? Do you want that guy you were oogling in the movie yesterday?", I say, painfully aware of how immature I am sounding.
"What! No. I don't, Rich. That is a movie!!! I said yes to marrying you, didn't I? FORGET IT!", you exclaim, moving away from me.
I jump out of the bed with a huff, pull on an old pair of ugly boxers and a tshirt and grab my pillow. I leave the bedroom without a word and make myself comfortable on the couch.
'What is going on here?', I ask myself. I go over everything sexual that has ever happened between us, everything you have ever told me, every expression you have made, every gesture, every suggestion.
"I really get tired of missionary", I recall you saying. "I really wish you were more romantic in bed". "I wish you acted more manly and focused on me more." "I wish you were more confident." "I wish you wooed me." "I wish that we changed things up, that we did different positions." "I wish you initiated more, that every once in a while you just went for me and "took me."
All of this time you had been telling me the truth. I never listened. It was never about my body. You loved my body. You thought I was sexy, and always had! It just went in one ear and out the other. All of this time I dismissed what you said as a personal attack. How dare you say I am not amazing in bed! How dare you tell me that I could do better! That any improvement was necessary! How dare you tell me anything other than I am a great fuck!
No wonder you had stopped expressing how you felt altogether. I never listened, so you stopped saying anything other than "it was good, babe."
I ran over to the office and grabbed a pen and paper to jot down ideas. What did the men do in those romantic comedies and tv shows you made me watch? How did they talk to women? How did they flirt? How did they have sex? I wrote down all of it. I noted everything I could think of, and then I put a plan in action.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning you glare at me when you walk out of the bedroom for breakfast. We don't speak. We don't touch. It feels like we are leaving a few miles of space between us when we move about uncomfortably in the kitchen. You are still furious with me and I am avoiding any aftershocks that might come my way should I say anything to you. You look at me with a cold, hard glance when you slowly put on your engagement ring to finish your outfit. The unspoken message is clear:
'I love you.... but you are being an ass and things need to change!' Your eyes say all of this. There is no need for words. We both leave for work in silence. When my work day is finally over I head over to the mall and buy what I need. I stash it all on the top shelf in the kitchen counter, having nowhere else in the house that you don't use.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
I am standing out on the balcony when I hear the bedroom door open and see you walk by out of the corner of my eye. I quickly turn around on my yoga mat, turning my back to the sliding door. I wait. A couple of seconds later I hear the glass door slide open, subsequently hearing you utter your first words to me in two whole days.
"Richard.......what are you.....doing?", you ask.
"Just my morning yoga routine", I reply, as I transition from sunrise pose to warrior II pose, keeping my gaze facing forward and pretending not to notice your reactions. But I am actually listening for every shift in your voice.
I hear a quiet gasp. There is a short pause of silence. I listen to your breath as I imagine your gaze flowing from my head, to my bare, toned chest and arms, down to my tight, thin yoga pants. I have no doubt that you have noticed the flexing of my leg muscles in this pose, as well as the bulge of my flaccid penis under the tight material.
You're taking deeper breaths now, as I finish my routine and relax into a normal standing position. I grab my towel from the railing and turn back to face you.
"Good morning, sunshine", I say as I approach you, wiping sweat from my brow.
"Goo....goo....good morning, babe", you say as you look me up and down, before pulling me towards you. I kiss your forehead.
"How did you sleep?"
"Good, thank you", you say, with a quick but noticeable glance at my crotch.
I hold your upper arms as I kiss your cheek, before moving down your throat, neck, shoulders. I am about to kiss your upper chest when you pull away abruptly.
"It is about time to have breakfast, isn't it?", you ask, your face flushed, and a somewhat bewildered look on your face. I imagine you are thinking something along the lines of: 'who are you, and what have you done with my fiance?'
"Absolutely. There should still be time for me to make us both omelettes", I say as I move past you towards the kitchen.
"Just a small one for me, please. I don't eat as much as you", I hear you say from behind me.
As you walk into the apartment, I glance your way and your eyes just about pop out of your head.
"I really worked up a sweat out there and since I am going to be getting a shower soon anyway, I thought why not. You don't mind do you?"
You look up and down my naked form as I pull out a skillet from the kitchen door, a simple nod your only response as you watch me begin to cook breakfast.