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You mean too much to me for me to fuck everything up." I knew exactly how lucky I was to be with her. Our marriage was more like two true friends than husband and wife. We often talked late into the night, about everything and nothing. While our sex life was sometimes hit or miss, just being around her was a gift. I was amazed that I met her, much less married her. I hate to use the word "interesting" because it didn't do justice to describing her, but she was the most interesting person I ever met. Shelly was an incredible person.smart as hell, funny, beautiful. And you're not even picky about it, any dick will do. "Everything I read makes me think that you want dick. "I have trouble believing that," she said, tossing the papers angrily on the coffee table. "So, how many of these guys have you been with?" she demanded. "'Yes, please, give me your cum deep in my ass," she continued reading, then looked me straight in my face. I glanced over.she'd highlighted the passage. "'I'd love nothing more than you to tie me down on your bed, fuck me, then have all of your friends fuck me'," she read.
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I don't know why I kept the chat logs except that I'd go through them every so often and re-read them. That was my name on the gay chat website that I frequented. "Are you sure?" she pressed, showing me a thick sheaf of papers. I mentally reviewed what was on my computer and realized that I probably had a couple stories and logs that she could get to. But she never got on my computer, she had a desktop and a laptop of her own. I was really, really careful about it when we were first married, making sure everything was hidden but as time passed I grew careless and sometimes left stuff up or in open directories.
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Downloaded stories and videos, and chat logs if cyber-sex that I'd had with guys. There was a LOT on my computer that might may her think that I was gay. "Why on earth would you even THINK that?" "Oh, hell, no," I scoffed, laughing nervously. It usually means something bad was about to happen. I hate conversations that start out this way, especially with my wife. "Richard, we need to talk," Shelly, my wife, said as she sat on the couch next to me.