Girl Fucking Boyfriend

Tears were rolling down my cheeks, but I couldn’t stop. She looked so forlorn. I wanted to hug her and comfort her. I hated her. I loved her. I wanted to cry out. I wanted to yell. I wanted to cuss and holler and break everything in the house. I needed to take a piss. I never felt so helpless, so feeble. My insides were twisted in a million knots. I felt the bile rise up from my stomach. I tried hard and managed to swallow it back. I felt cold, but I was sweating. Joyce looked worse. After what seemed like an eternity but was only a few seconds I said, “Well.”She opened her mouth to start to talk, but nothing seemed to come out. She said, “Harry I ... Harry ... Harry I don’t feel so good...”She started wavering in her chair. I hollered back to the living room, “Junior, Chad! Get in here!”They must have been right at the portal. They were in almost instantly.I looked at Harry junior, “I don’t know...”I was feeling funky myself. I kept gasping for breath. I looked back at Joyce, then. I was annoyed with myself and felt a little trapped. Around lunchtime we arrived at Saragossa and he suggested we stop for lunch. He drove us to a nice restaurant that was part of a hotel. We parked the car in the hotel garage and went for lunch. While we were eating he was once again bright and cheerful, my cloud of pessimism dissipated and was replaced by the same spark of interest I had had when we started. Over our coffee I decided to ask him outright. I took advantage of a pause and asked him directly what had been the problem between him and his wife, what had made her not want him but need a lover. He blushed deeply and dropped his gaze to his coffee, the question hung in the air as he swirled his coffee around in the cup. Finally he looked up at me again and I tried to communicate some sort of understanding by smiling at him. I tried to explain that it just didn’t make sense but he reached out and took my arm stopping me mid-sentence. “It is very simple,” he said, “I am.
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