I just had sex with my wife and I feel like utter crap. It was enjoyable. The feeling of release and the satisfaction that came afterwards were there, but the experience was mechanical and devoid of passion. I just got on top of her and did my thing. Samantha and I have been married for over ten years now, and at first the sex was great. We were like two wild rabbits going at it whenever and wherever the urge grabbed us. Lately, things have cooled down. Between work, two kids and a hectic schedule, sex has become this thing that we do when time allows. Late last Friday, after putting the kiddies to bed, Sam took the initiative for once. I guess going a whole month without getting some had finally taken a toll on her. And I sure wasn't going to pass up on the rare occasion. I don't think I even looked at her when we made love. I was too busy fantasizing about some big tit blonde I saw in my dirty movie collection. I have a ton of that crap downloaded on my Laptop. It's the only thing that keeps me from going insane when I go weeks without having sex.

Nowadays if I had to rely solely on Sam's physical appearance to get me aroused, I would likely never get a boner. I'm almost embarrassed to say this, but she let herself go. Listen, I am by no means a Calvin Klein model or Mr. Fitness, but at least I try to stay in minimal shape. Sam, whose is a full time nurse, would rather sleep all day after spending three full days at the hospital. I don't blame her and I don't fault her either for that, but I have caught her many times, curled up in front on the TV, eating a tub of ice cream and devouring a bag of chips. I ask her to come join me while I go jogging, but she flat out refuses by telling me how tired she is. I appreciate the fact that she works hard and takes care of our kids, but I feel like she should try taking care of herself. She used to doll herself up almost everyday. Now, high heels, lipstick and sexy lingerie have been replaced by big shirts and baggy sweatpants. I want to say something, but I know if I do it will only cause a fight and I will probably end up sleeping on the couch. Watching porn and dreaming about the hot cashier at the grocery store has become my rituals now. I hate doing that, but what am I to do?

While having sex with Sam I have to focus all of my thoughts. Not only was I fantasizing about pounding the tar out of somebody other than my wife, I had this feeling that I was being watched. No, it wasn't Pepper, our schnauzer who probably has had his fill of his humans having sex (Nowadays, he just jumps off the bed and demands to be let out when he suspects that we are about to do anything) and I know for sure that it wasn't one of the kids. If they had opened the bedroom door and walked in on us, there would have been a disaster the likes of Fukushima. And let us not forget the years of therapy that would come afterwards .

I sense a presence in the room, breathing down my neck. Samantha, engrossed in our bland lovemaking, doesn't seem to notice anything. I keep pounding away, undaunted, until I notice a strange shadow in the corner of my eye. Did I just see somebody dart beside me in the darkness or was it just shadows bouncing off the lights of a passing car? No time to worry about that when I am climaxing. And there's no need to investigate when everything seem to be fine as I lay in bed, completely spent, while Sam wraps her arms around me, refusing to let go.