Breathing my Mind into Your Face

Here I sit at my desk in my office, off-kilter due to only four hours of sleep. I’m debating whether I should work, go hit golf balls or curl up on the couch and hide from the world. My wife got home at 2am last night. I was worried because she’d texted me at 10 saying she was still hanging at the bar with her friend but would be home soon for sex. I followed up at midnight asking when she was coming home and got a reply 45 minutes later that it would be around 2. 

I finished watching Ford vs. Ferrari and headed up to bed at 1:30. I decided to watch some Instagram reels of hotties to get my dick growing for 2am. She got home at 2 then spent a half-hour knocking shit over in the kitchen getting herself a snack. When she opened the door to our bedroom I was secretly naked from the waist down under the covers. I’d decided to focus on my boner rather than trying to get an explanation for what happened, knowing that her alcohol impacted bloodstream would result in incoherence. Luckily, she was still able to walk and talk with some normalcy. At least it was normal enough to make me feel like I wasn’t taking advantage of my wife for one-sided pleasure. The sex was one-sided, but she seemed to enjoy it. Kind of nice that I didn’t need to give her an orgasm since her drunkenness would’ve made it impossible. 

We’ve got a lot of friends going through difficulties in their marriage. Probably going to be a couple divorces coming down the pike. She’s been laying it on thick about how lucky she is to have me and grateful she is to not be going through the same shit. The drama between our friends sprouted from the wife going out with girlfriends all the time getting drunk, ignoring her husband, cheating with randoms, leading to cheating from the other side. My wife is a very empathetic listener and has the trust of her girlfriends to tell her all their secrets. She gets so engrossed in their lives that it impacts her emotionally. More from the standpoint of how it might impact our future group dynamic, but the stress from all this surrounding marital strife is why she was psyched to pile on the drinks last night. 

The friend she went out with went home at some point, leaving my wife to hang out with her Trump loving drunkard hair stylist. After the bar closed they went home with a couple random dudes. One was married, one divorced. She says she didn’t do anything. I told her how mad she’d be at me if the situation was reversed on the way to the bus stop this morning. I’m displaying the right amount of detached indignance to extract max remorse, but I don’t think I really care. I trust that she didn’t do anything physical with one of the old horndogs. At least if she did, the guy must have had a smaller dick than me because her vagina didn’t feel wider than normal. Now she’s sleeping, but she’s off to a boozy lunch later with some other girlfriends and planning to Uber over to baseball practice so we can get ice cream after. Moving on.