But once they were all at the age they felt they should be at, everything stopped.
“It’s not working,” my wife told me one night.
“What’s not?” I asked, kind of annoyed that I had to stop playing Candy Crush or whatever game I was playing at the time.
“Us,” she informed me.
“How is it not working?” I asked. Sure things were boring now that we had kids. We don’t go out like we used to. We both gained a bit of weight, well, until she rejuvenated herself by jacking me off.
“Look at us,” she said. “I’m fucking hot again. You are kind of disgusting now. It’s like being with my dad.”
“Um, what.”
“Maybe in a couple years, things will be different,” she said, clearly lying. “Maybe when I’m a bit older and ready to settle down.”
“You’re 34,” I told her. “You are a mother and have two kids.”
“God, you wouldn’t be saying that if you saw my body,” she retorted cruelly.
I stared at her blankly. I didn’t know what to say. I kind of felt used. And betrayed but mostly used. I loved this woman. I would have done anything for her. And now that she jacked me off enough to look like an 18-year-old, she was ending things.
“Goodbye,” she said as she walked out of the door.
After she left, I checked the drawers. She left all of her old clothes, she was probably going to need to buy a new wardrobe now that she was down a few sizes.