Bill drank a fifth of bourbon in the time it took Jennifer to undress. Shockingly, he found himself wishing he'd married a woman with limbs. Her sensual striptease, achieved via garment-hems gripped in her teeth and a series of shrugs and undulations, somehow didn't arouse him like it used to; he may as well be watching a caterpillar shedding its skin. It dawned on Bill, as Jennifer once more grumbled herself to sleep, unsatisfied, that perhaps his chronic inability to please his wife might not be the fault of a testosterone slump, or the result of too much whiskey at bed-time. Bill frowned, and finally faced the truth: he had begun to suspect that Jennifer was having an affair.
Last edited by Salli Shepherd; 03-01-2009 at 09:10 PM.
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