He Doesn't Love Me
“No...never... I can't tell you”
“Why not”?
“Because....I can't”.
“You go there, you pay him money...a lot of money, and I can't know what happens”?
“No...”.
“What does he do to you, or for you. That I can't do, god sakes...I'm you husband”.
“Yes, but you love me, he doesn't, you couldn't do it, it just wouldn't be the same”.
“What, what...wouldn't the same”.
“You can't make me feel the way he does”.
“What way...”.
“I don't know....just...kind of dirty and used. It's a feeling I need sometimes, it fixes me”.
“For god sakes what are you talking about”.
“He fucks me...OK...he fucks me”.
“You pay him to make love to you...I do that...is it me....what do I do wrong”.
“Nothing, it's not you.... we make love...he fucks me. He doesn't care about me...I pay him and he just does things”.
“What things...like what”
“He makes me cry...he makes me whimper, makes me want it to stop...he just goes on, he does just it any way...he makes me scream until I'm clean again.
“What makes you scream..what does he do to you”.
“I can't tell you...we could never do....you can't do it that way to someone you love”.
How could she possibly tell her husband that she paid a man to spank her, that with teary eyes she sucks until it is was hard. How could she possibly tell her husband that she paids a man to fuck her like a boy.
“I, we....he”, her voice crackled.