You’re home alone, just watching television. You’re horny as fuck, but your wife is out and about right now. Even if she were at home, she might not be in the mood to satiate your needs. And even if she were, would it really be enough? You don’t fuck your wife because you want to. You fuck your wife because she’s there. You’re not hot for her anymore. Perhaps you never were. She’s probably not hot for you either. Let’s face it: she’s just a receptacle. Put your dick in her, thrust a few times, think of me while you’re doing it, and eventually cum. It’s very mechanical, not worth writing home about. It is the reason you invited me into your life.
Each time we are together it is a rejection of your wife or girlfriend. You are cheating on her by being with me. When I walk through those doors of your home, you take in my body; you are ready to violate the bond (the perpetual nagging) of your relationship with her. That’s okay babe. She violated it the moment she stopped trying hard for you. All the leverage became hers, and you’re handcuffed by society’s rule that you can only be with one woman. You didn’t come up with that rule. But you claimed to be ready to adhere to it. Reason and logic wouldn’t help you, so why bother arguing. Better to just tell her what she needs to hear.
Back to your being home alone, just watching television, there’s a knock at the door. You’re surprised because you weren’t expecting anyone. When you open the door and see it’s me, calling unexpectedly, you are excited but also hesitant. That part of you that wants to adhere to your bondage of only fucking the receptacle instills guilt. You tell me that while you’re always happy to see me, now is not a great time. You can see the disappointment in my face. “Can’t I just come in for a moment to talk? Just talk?” Moments later we’re sitting on the couch, a glass of wine in hand. “Honey, I know you told me that that it’s too risky to let me suck you off tonight, but would you just do me one small favor?” The question alone motivates your crotch to expand. I see it. You see that I see it. I am wearing a sweater jacket, zipped up to the neck. I very slowly begin to unzip it as I speak my question “Would you please just do me the favor of looking at my tits? I just need to know that you still think of these as the most beautiful melons you’ve ever sucked on.” You agree to look at them. I agree to your unasked question, to put one hand on your crotch as my other hand continues to opens my jacket, exposing my nuclear weapons.