~ The Call ~ Months pass. Work, stress, and all the daily crap from a fucked up world that erodes the best of us. The residuals. The heated memories of the last visit. Almost undetectable. Over time, sinister. Travel. Missionary sex, once or twice a week. Cumming is an effort sometimes. Maybe she's even faking. I fail now and then, and she knows it. My fading memories give way to lurking perversions that fill the empty space. She's turned inward with little or no room for fantasies. Cold, hard reality fills her empty space, and she won't let me in. Until... "I fucked a guy at lunch today." Her story. He hits on her at a local cafe. Sits right down. Tells her he can't help himself, she's beautiful. Says she needs to be spanked for thoughts of cheating. Dirty little wife, bored with her husband, looking for sex with a guy like him, a guy who gets her wet with words. She tells me like she's slapping me across the face with it. "It was like he could read my mind," she tells me. I imagine she tightens her fingers around his hand when he takes it, there, in the open, on the table they share. Then standing, her lunch unfinished, she goes with him, still holding his hand. She's said three words to him. Maybe five. But mostly just listens to him read her mind. "He wanted me to beg for it, and I did. He wanted me to say I like cheating on you. I told him I cheat whenever I want. All the time. Whenever I find a man I can't say 'no' to. A man like him. Saying it out loud - hearing my words in that hotel room - made me crazy. Even after we came, after an hour, I wanted more. I sucked him before we left and he wiped his come all over my cheek and told me to wear it home. But I cleaned it off before I came home. I was afraid someone would see. I wanted to wear it though. So you could see it. He told me I'm not married when I'm with him. He made me believe him. I wanted to do whatever he said, to be his even after I left." It was a Saturday afternoon when she told me. We went to bed and fucked. She pummeled me with details. Each one a tiny grenade. "I cheated on you with him. Some guy I didn't know. I wanted to wear his cum on my face so you could see it. I wanted you to know how bad I can be. I never wanted to be a slut that much, ever. God, I loved it. Every second of it. I even thought about not telling you, just to make it hotter. But I couldn't help myself. I want you to know what a slut I was." It wasn't her usual teasing. There was intentional venom in her voice. So much pouring out of her I couldn't tell where it came from or why. Minutes after, lying there, panting, staring at the ceiling, she seemed to be dazed. But electric with energy. Boiling over with a bizarre mixture of sex and rage. She had meant to hurt me, at least for the time it took to tell her story. And maybe also while she was fucking him. Lashing out with frustration and the need for control. Control over everything that was suffocating our fantasies, our fun, and our fucking. I knew it was time to make the call. We both knew it was time again. Time to go back down the rabbit hole. Tine to visit Dave.