We closed the hotel room door and I walked over to the bed. When I turned around, I saw the back of her wedding dress disappearing into the bathroom, followed by the bathroom door slamming shut. I took off my tux jacket and tossed it over a chair. The vest and bow tie followed, and then my shirt. I walked over to the bed and pulled off the comforter. She was still in the bathroom, so I took out the candles we had brought and placed them around the room. I lit the candles and turned down the lights. Then I put on some music.
Finally Kelly emerged from the bathroom. Her wedding dress was on a hanger, and she hung it up in the closet. Instead of a dress, instead of stockings and pumps and a garter, she had on an old pair of flannel pajamas.
"Something wrong, honey?" I asked.
"I'm going to bed, John" she barked. "We're getting up too early in the morning to deal with one of your little fantasies tonight. Blow out the candles and turn off that damn music. And clean up your crap- just because we're married now doesn't mean you can leave your clothes lying around the room."
She looked at me, and saw the dejected look on my face.
"But baby, I just thought... I mean, this is our wedding night and I... we were going to..." I stammered.
Her eyes traveled down my body to the bulge in my pants. "Oh, I'm so sorry honey," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Did little Jonnie there think he was going to get some action tonight? We wouldn't want him to get all hard for nothing." She turned and climbed into bed. "There's hand cream in the bathroom. Don't make any noise, and you'd better not wake me when you come to bed. Now fuck off and let me sleep, you pig."
So my wedding night was spent in the bathroom of a hotel, and my marriage was consummated between my cock and my right hand.
The honeymoon wasn't any better. Not only wouldn't she spread her legs for me, I spent the last night sleeping on the couch. She said she couldn't sleep with my filthy body soiling her clean sheets. The marriage was downhill from there.
We lived in a penthouse apartment and she got me a job as a middle manager in her daddy's company. I worked long days, overtime, weekends, so I could provide for her. When I got paid, she made sure it was deposited directly into her account, and she gave me a small allowance for myself. She refused to work- her days were spent shopping, or getting her nails done, or with her girlfriends. She wouldn't cook for me- if I wanted a meal after work, I had to order take out or make mac and cheese. None of that expensive food, she insisted. She wasn't about to let me waste her money on expensive food, being that I couldn't appreciate it anyway. She was the only one allowed to buy nice things, because, as she said, she had class and style, and I was just a brainless slob.
We had separate bedrooms, and the only time we had sex was when she wanted it- which wasn't often. Even then, she made sure I got it over with quickly, and always in the missionary position. None of 'that sick, perverted crap they show in dirty magazines.' She grew a thick bush covering her pussy, and when I said something about that she told me that I must be some kind of depraved child molester, wanting to indulge my deviant fantasies by seeing her with a hairless pussy, like a little girl. When I asked if we could do it just once doggie style, she called me a 'closet faggot,' and said that if I liked doing it from behind, I should go find another gay man to fuck.
I couldn't even get good sex by myself. One time she walked in on me jacking off to a porno mag, and she completely lost it. She told me she wouldn't stand for that kind of shit in her house, and she made me show it all to her before I threw it all away. She wouldn't let me fuck her for 6 months after that incident.
I was afraid to do anything that might upset her, no matter how small. She wasn't afraid to berate me in public, or in front of my friends and family. In fact, she took every opportunity to do so.
So that's how it came that one day I just snapped. I think it was a weekend and she was screaming at me in front of a friend of mine because I made too much noise jacking off the night before. Somewhere between "you're a selfish asshole" and "you and your nasty little cock" everything became clear. I no longer heard her screaming at me. In that moment, I knew exactly what needed to happen, and I was going to do it. |