" At least he is more of a man than you are."Michael slapped her hard across the face. He regretted it instantly as he watched his wife fall to the floor with a trickle of blood coming out of the side of her mouth.She had her eyes shut. "Pack and get the fuck out of this house," she didn't open her eyes."I'm sorry," Michael begged her. "I didn't intend to do that." Get out or I'll call the police. This house belongs to me," she struggled to her feet."You have outlived your usefulness to me and the kids. I want you out now! Your lucky the girls have dance lessons so they weren't here to witness this. I don't love you anymore and I want you out. Now get your ass out!" Please... Michelle walked to the phone and told the operator to connect her to the police."I'll go," he said meekly. He didn't want to lose his job by sitting in jail with the publicity that he was a wife beater. He went upstairs to pack. He spent an hour putting his things together. When he came downstairs, Michelle had. She nearly purred as the shift took place. Alas, my fingers went back to work along her back, pausing briefly as slight tensions were found. ‘Thank you, Chris…’ Her voice was soft and serene as she found comfort and pleasure from her common discomforts. ‘Mmhmm, Janet. Nothing to thank me for, dear…’ And…hmm, I meant it. Her comfort, her pleasure…and the occasional, albeit brief, opportunities to steal a view of her breasts were more reward than I needed or deserved. ‘I’m sure you have things you’d rather be doing, and your hands must hurt after such efforts.’ Her voice was…lyrical, almost. Or maybe she just played my emotions like an instrument, instead…and played every one of them so well. ‘I live to ease your pain and provide what limited comforts and pleasures I can for you, oh Goddess of my Idolatry…’ Forgive the literary interlude… My hands, at this point, traveled from her back to her sides. I leaned down, barely making contact with her still bare back. My lips moved to her.
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