Chapter 2

Her hand had gone to her mouth. Then she came over to him and put her arms around his neck.

"Truly sorry, honey. Forgot the time."

Her blue eyes were steady. They drooped a bit and her eyebrows made small steeples. The effect was the look of a sorry puppy.

John took her hands and pulled her arms off of him. He held them between their bodies.

"Let's eat," he said. "I'm famished."

That night they made love.

Well, maybe it was love. It also was a disaster. John had problems to sustain his erection. And when he slid it into her, his half-hearted cock seemed to be lost in space.

Sarah wasn't as tight as she used to be. Of course she wasn't. She was a mother. And she was past forty. Moreover, that night he wasn't as big as he usually was. Nor as hard.

But he never before found her as loose as she was right then.

She sighed and let him slip out. Then she took the weak cock in her warm mouth. John came without getting hard. It should have surprised her. She always aroused him easily.

The first of his sperm dribbled on her tongue. She took the cock out with a disgusted grunt, catching the next faint dribble with her hand.

John murmured an excuse and handed her a Kleenex. She cleaned her hand. Then she just turned around and faked sleep.

It was more than he could.

The next morning they had coffee for breakfast. John had a muffin, Sarah fresh fruit and cereals. They also had a glass of juice. They never were big breakfast eaters.

Sarah had taken a shower. But she was still in her robe. John was wearing his sweat gear. He liked to have a run on early Saturday mornings. This one had been really early - he hadn't slept much.

Sipping his coffee, he tried to catch her eyes. It took him a while.

"Will talk help, Sarah?" he asked.

She stared for a few seconds - right through him.

"Help with what, honey?" she asked at last.

"I think you are cheating on me, Sarah," he said. "I think you are seeing another man."

Her face didn't change one bit. Her eyes never shifted. There were no twitching muscles. Nothing.

She just stared.

Blood rushed to his head. It felt like a glowing light bulb. He could only assume she agreed.

He stammered.

"Why, Sarah?"

Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Why, John?" she said after more silence.

Her surprise melted into a sneer.

"Why indeed! Why would you think that I cheat on you?"

John knew that when she used his name, things were serious. His more common name was honey. She must be hurt, offended even. Or at least agitated.

"Why accuse me, John!" She almost screamed now.

He held up his hand and bid her to lower her voice.

Then he told her what he had heard in the pub. He added her being late without a phone call or even an excuse. And her unusual showering.

He also mentioned her lack of concern at his erectile problems. And the looseness of her vagina.

It was all very embarrassing. It oddly shamed him to doubt her. He had to take pauses. Or build sentences that would take the directness out of his accusations.

She pushed away her cup. Then she rose and gathered her robe around her.

"I don't have to listen to this," she said. And left the kitchen.

John could have followed her to the bedroom. Maybe he should have. But he didn't.

Was he being a wimp? Was it indecisiveness? Even fear, maybe? He didn't think so. He didn't think it was either of those things. Because he knew what kept him in his chair.