There is this woman, Moe, that I slept with a couple of times. (Not my wife, this was just a year ago.)
We live about 80 miles apart, we are both widowed, we hit it off pretty well.
She suddenly gets married to a guy she knows from her bowling alley; coincidentally, his name is also Mike.
However, Mike the New Husband doesn’t like sex very much.
Moe, however, loves sex. A lot. Especially oral sex, both ways.
As it turns out, I also enjoy oral sex. A lot. Both ways.
Well, Moe only has on friend to turn to to complain about what she isn’t gettting.
You guessed it. Me.
Now, I’m all for getting your jollies whnever and wherever you can, and I certainly would have an affair with her if the opportunity presented itself. But…
Moe has nothing better to do than to sit on her computer ALL DAY and wait for me to be online. Then she sends me Instant Messages. Not complaining, mind you, but just mentioning that “(sigh) again, I didn’t get what I like… and you KNOW what I like…”
Yes, Moe, I know what you like.
Today, I got bold. I told her that her options, as I see them are to suffer miserably or leave the guy. But, she says, divorce isn’t an option. She marries until death. And she reminds me, again, that her first husband died.
She said today that she’s almost ready to have an affair. I told her to let me know when she’d like me to come down for a day or so.
Haven’t heard from her since.
I hate women.

