College Chastity Choice Game 2

Fine, there, I admit it. My life sucks.

It all start last year. Wait, no, yeah, last year.

So, my wife and I are teachers at the local college.

Well, ok, fine, I am a bio-chemistry teacher, and a damn good one at it. I am even starting to get a following, especially since I found a star student who will most likely change the world in a few years.

All I can hope for, is that I can work for her in a few years when she starts her own company so I can be by her side when she saves the planet.

My wife, teaches art. She shows college students how to put paint on a canvas, how to draw, for God’s sake.

So one of us is fucking rock star and the other is just a teacher. I am in the process of saving the world from famine, from global warming, and she is just helping student express their fucking emotions on paper and cloth.

That's it. It's not like she really paints or did any work of substance. She just tries to get these cry babies to not give up on their dreams when they fail to produce a masterpiece.

So one of us got on the cover of a magazine, and the other is just mediocre.

One wants to save the world, and will most likely help achieve it, and the other is a glorified cheerleader who just uses outdated color theory to grade students.

So of course, it's her who gets the awards, not me. She gets recognition from our peers, while I am in complete obscurity. Heck, some teachers mistake me for a student. How is that for fame?

Well, last year, I decided to boycott the faculty party. There. I said it. I had worked with my star student and we made a lot of progress on her project. Fine, she did a lot of progress on her project, but I was there. I was!

So, I came home, slept on the sofa, and was awoken by my panicked wife.

I looked and could see lipstick on her neck, and a hickey.

"Did you fuck a woman?", I asked her, and she had the nerve to tell me she didn't. She smelled like booze. She was drunk, for God's sake.

I grew furious. When we were students, each time she drank, she would begin to flirt with everyone, male and female.

When sober, I would ask her why, and notably if she was bisexual, but she always said she only wanted me, and only me. Yeah right, under alcohol, your true desires get out.

Everyone knows that. I am a bio-chemist for crying out loud!

But she removed her dress. Right here, showing me a bruise, but also, a lot more lipstick marks.

"Fuck, Sandra, you really went all of the way, did you? I had to be away, and you fucking did it"

"You don't get it, Paul" (when furious, she calls me by my last name, which is now her last name, but this was going on even when were just dating.

"Oh, I get it all right"

"That's it, I am going to the police alone", she said, going in our bedroom to grab a pair of jean. That's when I noticed that her panties were partially torn.

"What did I do this time?", I ask. She had threatened to call the police twice before on me. Once when we were fighting about, fuck, I don't recall about what, but we were doing the dishes, and I just threw a glass to the dining room in frustration. It broke on the floor.

"That's domestic violence, Paul", she told me. And we argued some more. We did fuck, I remember that, and it was hot, but not before she first said she would call the police.

The second time was even more pathetic. I had ordered from books from the UK, and UPS wanted some duty fees and they couldn't make my credit card work.

I didn't have enough money on me, so I grabbed change from her purse. She was furious I had robbed her, even if we were working together. Overreaction much?

"What?", she told me, after I asked what I had done"

"Nothing, asshole, she did. "

"Whom?"

"Maryann! She fucking raped me"

"Yeah, right", I tell her.

It's so obviously a fucking lie because she cheated me and wants to cover it.

Oh, I believe women, but my wife, when drunk, lies about everything. She lies about flirting, about with whom, about how much she drank, fuck, about everything.

Andrei's wife and her had been flirting for a while. Sandra always claimed it was just good fun, but I know, for a fact, that Maryann is bisexual. I know, for a fact, that she fucks female students. Not hers, but others.

I know because Andrei told Sasha, while I was within ear shot.

And I know that Sandra and Maryann began hanging out and idly flirt with each other. I mean, if Sandra ever admitted to being bisexual, maybe I could learn to accept it. Andrei is a cool dude, and he is ok with Maryann sleeping around. I have no idea how, but if Sandra begged me, and Andrei approved, I wouldn't say no per se for a threesome with Maryann.

She's not my style, but perhaps she is Sandra's.

But she doesn't admit it. Instead, she claims she is just a friend, and what I see as flirting is pure paranoid jealousy.

Yeah, right.

Well, I began arguing back, while she kept talking about Maryann raping her. Only, it didn't feel like rape. I mean, she made Sandra come, aren't rape, well, not pleasurable?

Plus, Sandra admit she went with Maryann to the restroom. Wasn't she looking for it?

As I asked her questions, I learned more. The bassist of the band was a nudist, Maryann was mostly soft with Sandra, the bruise was from the toilet paper dispenser.

Maryann even kissed her! You don't kiss a rape victim, right?

Well, I lost it, and began yelling at Sandra, telling her of how much of a slut she was, how ashamed I was of how she turned out when drunk. She even, once again, proclaimed not to be drunk.

Yeah, right.

But it ended the same way as any other fight, with Sandra and me having hot sex, on the floor, by the bed.

And what occurred about 30 minutes after we were done, still cuddling? Maryann called.

Sandra put it on speakerphone, on my request.

"Sorry to call so late, but I enjoyed our time together, and Andrei wanted to say that he could pay for us to have a date tonight"

"What?", said Sandra

"Well, so he means tomorrow night, but since it's past midnight, it would technically be tonight"

"What? You want to take me out for a date?"

"Oh shit, this was just a booty call? Oh Sandra, I am so sorry if I misread anything. Please ignore my call, well, unless you want a date. Then call me. But otherwise, I'll give you room. Don't worry. Stupid me. Listen, I like you, if you want to take this further, and your husband agrees, call me. Otherwise, I won't cause you trouble. However, I had fun. Good night, say hello to Harold from me and my husband", and with that, she hung up.

See? That's not the call of a rapist. So, we fought again. And fucked again. That's our cycle, and I hate it.

But if you think that my life couldn't get worse, well, you are wrong.