Monica

Monica should have been on top of the world. The 25 year old was a rising star at the local news station, having had a wonderful combination of looks (she was 6’0 tall and had a luscious 38E-28-36 frame wrapped in flawless mocha skin), charisma and an ability to look past the obvious and find the heart of a story. She’d only been working at the station for a year and her editor was already talking to her about being an anchor woman.

The problem was her husband, Malcolm. The two had met in high school and had hit it off almost right away. At the time, Malcolm was a hell of a catch; he was 6’2” tall, 235 pounds of muscle and the pride of the school’s football team. Best of all, he’d had the libido of a dozen Jack rabbits and the two of them were fucking almost daily in their senior year, and when the two of them went to university (her for journalism and him on a football scholarship) they decided to go ahead and get married since they worked so well together.

Unfortunately, Malcolm tore his quad after a vicious tackle and without any decent grades to fall back on he simply couldn’t afford to keep going to university. The end of his dreams of playing in the NFL devastated him and so he’d spent the last 2 years deep in depression.

Monica had done her best to be the loyal, supportive and loving wife. She’d done her best to try and help him find work. But the man was ~if anything~ getting worse. His formerly cut frame had devolved into a lumpy 270 of mostly fat, and his sex drive had atrophied to almost nothing; he couldn’t even reliably keep it up anymore.

To say that she was getting frustrated would be like saying that the sun was big; technically accurate but not really doing the issue justice. She’d been masturbating so much in the last 6 months that it was beginning to not work anymore for crying out loud.

A couple of her girlfriends had offered to help hook her up with some of the guys from her neighborhood, but she hadn’t taken them up on their offer; the risk of getting caught with some brother by her husband (or one of them bragging about it and him hearing about it) made her less then eager to go for it.

Riding the elevator up to the editors office, she did her best to put her body’s craving aside and focus on whatever assignment Ernie gave to her.