0 comments/ 10718 views/ 0 favorites Love Online By: X-Bard Karen was tired when she arrived home. She had seen just enough of the hospital and was ready to forget all of it. As a nurse she had more than her fill of responsibility. Add to that the fact that she worked the night shift of seven on, seven off in a burn unit and she was always ready to relax when the time came. At 32, Karen had already been married and divorced. The result being she wouldn't have anything to do with doctors. She realized they weren't all bad, but she wasn't ready to test those waters again. After working her way to a Masters in nursing, Karen had helped her husband finish med school and had been with him through his internship and residency. Shortly after Rick was welcomed into a prestigious orthopedic practice he decided that they had grown apart. In Karen's opinion they hadn't had time to get to know each other, each too busy with their own career. After being convinced by Tish, her best friend at work, Karen bought a home computer, she reluctantly chose an internet provider. She used the one that came with the computer software. Tish was an avid online junkie. Tish was always telling her how they could e-mail each other and talk in chat rooms. In frustration, Karen would say, "My stars Tish! We spend more time with each other than anyone we know!" Tish would pooh-pooh her and say, "It just isn't the same." Karen walked past the computer and turned it on. She continued through the bedroom and around to the adjoining bathroom. Pulling off her uniform and stretching her body at the same time. It felt like shedding an unwanted skin. The house was very different from the others she had looked at. Whoever built it liked space... lots of it. Although, there were only 3 bedrooms, two baths, living room, den and kitchen the house was huge. Not counting the 3 car garage, the house was 3,000 sq. ft. Each of the rooms was larger than what most were accustom to. In her bathroom, all of the walls were paneled in mirrors. No matter were one looked, there they were. If you didn't like your body, this was not a good room to be in. When she first moved in all of the mirrors bothered Karen, mainly because she had never seen so much of herself. Briefly she considered having them removed. Gradually, she came to appreciate the advantages of having so many mirrors available. With the last of her clothes tossed to the basket in the corner, Karen started her daily inspection. Tits, relatively perky... mental note: start yoga poses for breast enhancement again. Thighs, toned, not too muscular. Butt, still in place. Tummy, ugh... back to those crunches. Arms, looking good. Karen grabbed the brush and began tugging it through her hair. Karen's hair was the first thing people noticed about her. It was thick, curly, long and a deep auburn. Keeping it in place for 12 hours at work was a chore. It felt so good to allow her waist length hair to fall where it pleased even if just for a short time. As she began brushing the strands lying across her chest, Karen sighed softly. It had been ages since she had been with a man. Not that Rick had such an effect on her. She rarely got past a second date with anyone. It seemed that her work schedule interfered, or she didn't like them, or they had too many other obligations. So many of the single men her age were divorced and had children, for them family would come first. Now the more she brushed the more her breasts wanted attention. She dropped the brush on to the vanity and reached for her massage oil. She knew how to take care of herself. Who needed a man anyway? Looking into the mirror, Karen didn't have to hear a voice say it... "She didn't need a man, but having one around would sure come in handy at times." Finding the oil, she retreated to the chaise lounge in the corner of the bathroom. Mirrors had lots of advantages. She popped the top and sniffed the peppermint oil. She squirted some into her hand, put the bottle on the small table to the side, and then rubbed her hands together. Beginning the massage, she remembered how good it felt to feel the blood rushing to her skin. The peppermint oil did that... great for circulation. First the circles around each breast, then the short strokes. A few more steps then the pinching, starting at the outer edges of each breast and working around towards the nipples. They were hard now, the massage always got her nipples the hardest of anything. After pinching for several turns, Karen sat up slightly, lifter her left breast and licked at the nipple with feather like touches first, then pressed harder with her tongue. Watching herself in the mirror, spreading her legs, she was definitely ready. Releasing her breast, she began twisting both nipples between her fingers, pinching tighter and tighter, then pulling her nipples hard and away from her chest, slowly letting the nipples slide past her thumb and index finger. Her left hand seemed to have a mind of its own, moving down her tummy to the hairline. She pushed against the furry mound firmly a few times, then allowed her fingers to explore the very familiar territory. She spread the lips and teased her clit lightly. Then she pushed further down to the wetness. She pushed first one, then a second finger into herself she began the thrusting motion. Karen's juices were flowing stronger, she could feel them seeping out of herself. With the right hand she had found her vibrator. She flicked the switch with her finger to test the batteries, satisfied she moved it into position. She slid it into her wetness a few times she then pressed it further down, searching for her asshole. She moved her leg for better entry. She watched how her body responded in the mirrors. Her chest was red and dampness had already formed around her face. She gasped involuntarily, as the vibrator pushed past the first muscles, gaining entry to her back door. The redness of her face and chest deepened. Her left hand moved back to her clit, rubbing in a circular motion, the internal pressure building. With the vibrator in place her right hand shot to a nipple and began pinching and twisting. Panting now, she was getting closer. Eyes closing, head tilting back, both hands moving faster... her body began to tremble. Slowly it builds then burst out of her and Karen screamed. She released her tortured nipple and lightened the pressure on her clit, she slowly came back down to earth. After she removed the vibrator, Karen relaxed and allowed herself to enjoy her pleasure. Almost reluctantly she put everything away and opened the shower stall door. Turning on the water, she set the temperature and stepped inside. Soaping up her net scrubby, Karen began to massage the rest of her body into blissful relaxation. After washing her hair and rinsing, she turned the water off and reached for a towel. After wrapping herself up, she did the same for her hair. As she walked over to her computer, Karen was glad she had decided to put it in her bedroom. With such long hair to comb out the time could be used for going through her useless e-mail that Tish was so insistent she couldn't live without. "Welcome", then "You've got mail!" chimed. Only 28 today, mostly bad jokes from Tish. She checked the Buddy List. Yes, Tish was there. CurvEcuti, in all her glory playing in yet another chat room. Tish preferred the member rooms, though Karen couldn't fathom why. Then the chime she sometimes hears in her sleep after trying to get Tish to understand why she didn't need to chat with her for 2 more hours after having spent the last 7 days for 12 hours a day with her rang through the room. Karen smirked, "She gave me 5 minutes that time. Must be a record." > IM from: CurvEcuti CurvEcuti : I was wondering when you would get here. What took you so long? KDRay5762 : I really do have a life you know and it does require me to occasionally tend to it. CurvEcuti : I can tell you had a bad night. Why don't you join me in the room? KDRay5762 : You know how I feel about that. Besides, you are in one of those sex rooms. CurvEcuti : There are only a few people here and no one is doing anything that would make you blush. Besides, no one can see you anyway you would have to tell them you were blushing. You don't have to say anything, just try it for 10 minutes.... PLEASE????!!!!!????!!!!! KDRay5762 : 10 minutes... no more. If I don't like it I will leave when I want to. CurvEcuti : great... just get your fine butt in here. Karen had tried the chat room thing and so far it wasn't working for her. In her mind a sane person couldn't follow most of what goes on in a chat room. It took someone seriously in need of psychiatric treatment... perhaps a padded room. She did what was needed to follow Tish to her lair and then stared at the screen. After typing "Hello room" she had no intention of typing another word. Tish was her usual outrageous self. A few people were cutting up with her and there were at least two other conversations going on. There should be color designations for each conversation and each person could only respond to their color group. That would make much more sense. Then came that hideous chime again. Only this time it wasn't Tish. >IM from: MrNiseGuy241 MrNiseGuy241 : Hi, I am Jeff. cuti tells me you are a friend of her's. I thought I would say hello and welcome you to the room. KDRay5762: Thank you. Do you really have long hair? MrNiseGuy241 : huh? oh the room name... HotMenwithLonghair. No... I just hang out waiting for the leftovers :) KDRay5762: are there many? MrNiseGuy241 : I find I am not hungry that often. KDRay5762: I guess that makes me lucky... either I am not a left over or you aren't hungry. MrNiseGuy241 : LOL cuti said you would be hard to talk to :) KDRay5762: Cuti should mind her own business. MrNiseGuy241 : Not to worry. She didn't tell me that much. I told her I wanted to find out about you on my own. Makes it more interesting that way. Why don't you have a profile? KDRay5762: I am not sure if I should be flattered or insulted. I don't have a profile, because I haven't decided what to put in it. MrNiseGuy241 : well, unless you want to make some tpye of statement like how cute, smart, sexy, stupid, etc. you are, just be direct. honesty is an option. KDRay5762: what do you mean, "Honesty is an option."? MrNiseGuy241 : exactly what I said. you can put anything you want. it will only matter when you develop a relationship with someone and then have to tell them that what they thought you were was a lie. of course for some people that doesn't matter. KDRay5762: Such a nice thought. MrNiseGuy241 : yeah welll, what can I say it is the life of online fantasy. All you can do is hope it doens't catch you in a web of intrigue you can't get out of. MrNiseGuy241 : I tell you waht, let me help you with your first profile, then you will have an idea of what to do next time. KDRay5762: Do I get to write it? MrNiseGuy241 : of course you do. I will talk you trhough it on IM. KDRay5762: So you won't know what I write until it is done? MrNiseGuy241 : right... you can put almost anything and I won't know until I read it. They do get funny about some things. click on keyword and put in profile MrNiseGuy241 : oh, and by the way... make this one kind of tame. savge the racy stuff for when you have a racy name. Karen followed Jeff's instructions and created a fairly mundane profile. Accurate but not too detailed. He also suggested she create a new screen name, one she could play with. Karen wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but she told Jeff she would consider the idea. She thanked him for his assistance and said goodbye to both him and Tish. Karen had a lot of sleep to catch up on and she wasn't wasting anymore time online. With her hair dry she curled up in her king-sized bed, alone and drifted off to the peaceful abyss of sleep. Groping for the nightstand, Karen tried to stop the alarm clock from ringing, only to realize she hadn't set it. She sat up in bed, eyes and mind heavy with sleep. It dawned on her that it was the phone. Checking the caller ID and discovering it was Tish gave her the perfect reason to fall back into the bed and drift back to where ever she had been. The answering machine picked up the phone and after a few moments Tish's overly excited voice was heard. "Where are you? Don't tell me you are still sleeping? Jeff is asking for you... you know MrNiseGuy? Why don't you drag that lazy butt of yours over to the computer and sign on?" Click. Karen moaned to herself, "Mental note: make message space shorter on answering machine." Rolling over she attempted to fall back asleep, only to hear the phone ring again. She knew that Tish would just keep calling if she didn't make a pre-emptive strike, Karen picked up the phone. "What?" she croaked. "My, but we are cheerful today." Tish's voice purred through the phone lines. "What do you want Tish? The sun will hit my skin at any moment and I will fry." Karen was hoping Tish would just leave her alone, but it wasn't working. "Come on Karen, Jeff wants to help with you new screen name... he has come up with a lot of good ones." "Oh really, like what pray tell?" Karen was certain they were nothing she would be pleased with. "How about SatinLips, for Heartolust... he has a lot of great ones!" "Tish, trust me, I can find my own name. Besides I need to eat something or I will pass out." Karen rolled out of bed and stretched holding the phone away from her ear so as not to hear Tish's response. Then a quick, "Bye." Hanging up the phone she wandered to the bathroom, took care of the morning necessities and then went to her closet. "Anything but white." she thought as she glanced through the clothes. She settled on a light, multi-colored wrap around dress with a tied belt. She pulled it on and moved more quickly towards the kitchen. After she ate some fruit and a bagel, she headed back to the computer with some juice. Tish would not leave her alone till she went online for a while, so she might as well get it over with quickly. "Welcome" "You've got mail!" "Yeah, right." muttered Karen. Clicking through the windows and then deleting all the junk gave Karen a small sense of control; she wasn't going to let this take over her life. She had heard so many stories of people losing themselves online; it wasn't going to happen to her. Tish's dependable IM chimed up and Karen told her she was reading e-mail and promised to IM her as soon as she finished. Clicking off the mail window, Karen pulled up the screen for new names. She pondered what she wanted other people to see of her. After all, the screen name is like the first impression thing. It is the first glimpse others have of your personality. Karen decided that she was going to play with Tish and perhaps MrNiseGuy241. She decided on "MyPrurience". Karen doubted many people would know what prurience meant, but it would be interesting to find the ones that did. After choosing a password, Karen IMed Tish and told her she had company and would be back later. Then she signed off and signed back on with her new name. Remembering what MrNiseGuy had told her about profiles; she pulled up the screen for her new creation. Member name: MyPrurience, is it yours? Location: Your most sensual dreams or worst nightmare, the choice is yours Sex: Female Marital status: we won't go there Hobbies: sex, slow dancing, wrestling (doing it myself, not watching others), men and women ; ) Computer: I haven't figured that part out yet Personal quote: I have an enema bag and I know how to use it! Karen felt that was a good mix of come on and just stuff. Now, to find Tish. She pulled up her buddy list and put Tish's and Jeff's screen names on it. Then she looked for Tish and followed her into the room "Life -- Sensual Intelligence" Karen made the usual hellos and responded to the welcomes she received, there were only 8 people in the room, which would make it easier for her. She started flirting and it became easier as she went along. In less that 5 minutes she received an IM. It wasn't from Jeff and she wanted Jeff to contact her, so she talked nice and didn't lead the guy on. Then another chime, this time it was MrNiseGuy241. IM from: MrNiseGuy241 MrNiseGuy241: Hello, allow me to welcome you to the room J MyPrurience: Thank you. You are truly too kind. To whom do I have the honor of speaking? MrNiseGuy241: you can call me Jeff. MyPrurience: What pray tell do your friends call you? ;*) MrNiseGuy241: LOL you are cute! MyPrurience: Tell me what you look like Jeff and I will tell you about myself. MrNiseGuy241: I am kind of average…. 5’11" 210 pounds, Sandy brown hair and blue eyes… now what about you? MyPrurience: has a promising sound about it… I am 5’ 8" 140 pounds, dark brown hair with a lot of red. Kind of long I guess. brown eyes… 36 D – 24 – 38 ….. MyPrurience: how big is your dick? MrNiseGuy241: let’s just say it has gotten larger in the last few moments J MyPrurience: ooooooo now that does sound promising MyPrurience: MyPrurience: Fuck me now! MrNiseGuy241: whoa! you don’t waste time! MrNiseGuy241: are you sure you want to do this? we hardly know each other. MyPrurience: I know what I want… do you have it to give? MrNiseGuy241: I got it… I definitely got it MyPrurience: MrNiseGuy241: MyPrurience: MrNiseGuy241: MrNiseGuy241: MyPrurience: MrNiseGuy241: MyPrurience: MrNiseGuy241: MrNiseGuy241: MyPrurience: Allow me to serve you Sir. MrNiseGuy241: Serve me?   MyPrurience: may I serve you, Sir? MrNiseGuy241: MyPrurience: Love Online Cheryl sat in the living room mindlessly listening to the weatherman's weather report and sipping her morning coffee while watching the snow make snowcaps out of the cars parked outside. They should have cancelled school she thought, but this surprise snowstorm had fooled everyone. She could have used another hour's sleep instead of having had to drive the kids to school earlier. She dreaded picking up her children from school later, especially if they haven't had a chance to plow the roads. Now, she wished she had kept them home today. "There's a slight chance of snow later today," he said startling her to react. "Slight chance of snow? Look out the window, dumb ass. It's a freakin' blizzard." She stared with contempt at the television. "With all your advanced degrees, computers, and radar, you still can't give an accurate forecast," she said continuing her tirade at the weatherman's image. "It's time to open the Farmers' Almanac or to count the spots on the back of a beetle or to look to see how high the birds are building their nests. The animals know more about the weather than you do, moron." She was angry, but not with him. She was angry with her personal situation and frustrated with her life. Instead of her time on the planet getting better, it was stuck in neutral and had been for the past few years. She thought things would be better when they bought this house and moved into this neighborhood and she was happier for a while. Only now, the additional expenses required that her husband work longer hours. She saw him more when they rented the small apartment on the other side of town. She was happier before they bought the house...the house...the house. Their thoughts, their conversation, their energy, and their money were all pent up in the house. A house had suddenly defined their existence, given new purpose and meaning to their marriage, and had taken control of their lives. Emotions misplaced from the emptiness of their relationship suddenly manifested itself into an enclosed and claustrophobically confined structure of high walls, draped windows, and closed doors. With mortgage payments, insurance, repairs, and maintenance, the house was now an all consuming member of their family, a living, breathing entity of unrelenting burden, pressure, and expense. She thought buying this dream house would make her happy. Now, she was miserable. She removed her kids from the school they loved and left all their and her friends behind to move here to a better neighborhood. Only, the people in this neighborhood all had more than they had and with their plastic smiles and cool demeanors were standoffish because of it. It's funny, she thought, how you don't know how happy you are until you lose what you had and it's too late to get it back. You can never go back. Even if you tried, those who you left behind will never let you back in to experience the way that it was before. There is a price to pay when shedding your old skin and abandoning your life for a new one. You've changed and the dynamics have changed enough that you no longer belong there. That simple thought calmed her and she considered her present situation, now thinking that this may be her happy time compared to what the future may hold in store for her. "Enjoy the moment," she said for no one to here. "You should have a problem. Everyone is healthy." The florist van that entered her line of vision and stopped in front of her house reminded her that it was Valentine's Day. She put her coffee cup down on the coaster on the side table and jumped up. She looked in the mirror, fixed her hair, adjusted the tie tighter on her bathrobe, and looked out the window again before unlocking and opening the door. It had been years since her husband had bought her flowers. She couldn't remember exactly when, but it was before they bought the house. Then, she remembered he bought her flowers the day after he stayed out late and came home drunk. It was a cheap bouquet that he picked up at a roadside flower stand and the flowers lasted not much longer than his passion did that night in bed. This was different. He never bought her flowers from a florist before. Something is up. Maybe, he got a promotion or a raise. Maybe, he's having an affair and this is a bouquet of guilt. Quickly, she ran to the kitchen to grab her purse for a tip and ran back to the front door in time to see the deliveryman emerge from the back of the van holding a big vase with two dozen roses as white and as fresh as the falling snow. "Oh, they are so beautiful. He remembered that white roses are my favorite," she said smiling widely with her hand perched on the doorknob while leaning to peer out the door's side window to watch for his arrival and to time her look of surprise. She hadn't had white roses since her wedding day. Phil is so sweet, she thought. He shouldn't have, but I'm so glad he did. What a nice surprise. That's why he didn't give me the usual candy and card in the morning before he left for work, so as not to spoil this surprise of flowers. I'll reward him later with a blowjob tonight. Her neighbor Gayle will be so jealous, she thought with a pang of one-upmanship. She decided to prominently display the flowers on her coffee table so that everyone who walked by the house would see them from her living room window. Even better, she thought about inviting her over for coffee so that she could see the beautiful bouquet up close. "Oh, my flowers, yes, they are beautiful, aren't they," she imagined the conversation between Gayle and her. "Phil is such a romantic. He's always buying me flowers. I just love how they smell," she imagined herself leaning down to inhale their fragrance. "I imagine he's going to expect a little something naughty in bed tonight," she said with a wink and a sexy smile. Her dream sequence burst as quickly as her blood pressure rose, as she watched the deliveryman walk across the street to her neighbor's house and ring her bell. Suddenly, her wide angled vision that encompassed the entire street of her neighborhood narrowed its focus and microscopically zoomed in on Gayle. Gayle was always getting something, no correction, Gayle was always getting everything. She got diamond earrings to compliment the rock on her finger and a mink coat when she complained she was cold. She wears French perfume that lingers in the air long enough to reveal that it is very expensive and to let everyone know that Gayle had been there long after she had left the room. She got the patio furniture she wanted, the expensive set that was not even on sale. She got implants and liposuction last year and her husband, Glenn, tied a big, red bow on a shiny, new, black Lexus 400h SUV that he gave her for Christmas. "Oh, Glenn! What a surprise!" Cheryl mouthed, mocking her neighbor's screams. The entire neighborhood was forced to listen to Gayle swoon loud enough to hear her over the movie they were all watching, "It's a Wonderful Life." It figures that she was relegated to watching "It's a Wonderful Life" while Gayle lived it. For Glenn's birthday, Gayle bought him a giant screen, drive-in sized, HD-ABC-XYZ television that the whole neighborhood can see from their living room windows and the space shuttle can see the position of their flaps for landing, as it zooms by their house. In the summer with the windows open, they don't even have to turn on their television to enjoy the Wheel of Fortune in surround sound stereo, they can just watch Gayle and Glenn's super-sized set. More unbelievably, even with the size of that screen, Vanna White's tits pale in comparison to Gayle's. The second marriage for both Glenn and Gayle, they had no children or even a pet to care for, and were always taking trips and romantic weekend getaways. A reminder of the striking differences in their lifestyles and relationships, she could see the toaster, the blender, the coffeemaker, the George Foreman grille, the juicer, and the microwave that Phil gave her last Christmas and this Christmas from where she was sitting in her living room. She laughed while hoping that he would buy her a hyperbaric chamber next Christmas where she could hide from him and the kids while decompressing from the stresses of her life. Mindlessly, she thought, while staring over at Gayle's snow covered, brand new Lexus, that she needed new tires on the faded blue, Ford Focus station wagon that hid in her cold, unheated garage. The last trip that she and Phil took together was down to Home Depot to buy lawn and leaf bags and they argued the whole drive there and back. He hated raking and feigned allergies. He hated shoveling and feigned a bad back. She raked and bagged the lawn and yard, and shoveled and sanded the walkway and driveway. Only now, watching giddy Gayle emerge from the house in a tiny towel that barely covered her surgically sculpted cleavage, she watched her show of surprise for the benefit of the deliveryman by the gift of flowers, two dozen snow white roses, on Valentine's Day. "Oh, flowers! What a surprise! They are so beautiful!" Cheryl mouthed the words of her neighbor. She was glad the snow deadened the sound of her annoying high pitched voice from traveling across the street, through her walls, and into her ears to reverberate in her brain for the rest of the day. She ducked behind the drape when she saw Gayle look over to see if she was looking. With her big boobs bouncing and practically spilling out of the towel wrapped around her body, it was then she wished she had supernatural talent much like that of the witches that Elizabeth Montgomery and Nicole Kidman played on Bewitched. If she was a witch, just a little wiggle of her nose would slam Gayle's front door closed before she could retrieve her caught towel. She imagined Gayle squatting down in the snow naked as the deliveryman ogled her stripper sized tits while fiddling with her locked front door. "Sorry, Ma'am, your front door locked closed. I'd give you my jacket but it's company policy that I must always remain in uniform. Here's my handkerchief to cover your nakedness." She imagined him leering at her tits. "Those tits are the biggest tits that I've ever seen, much bigger than Vanna White's tits on the Wheel of Fortune. Are they real?" "Wait, where are you going?" "I'm just gonna get my camera out of my truck to snap some photos of you for, uhm, liability and insurance purposes. The guys won't believe this, I mean, it's company policy." Her imagined scenario burst when Gayle disappeared in her house with her tits, her towel, and her Valentine bouquet of white roses. She wished that Phil had given her a shotgun for Christmas so that she could shoot out the headlights of the Lexus parked conspicuously in the driveway across from her line of vision or shoot out the silicon that was prominently displayed for all to see. She looked down at her barely B cup, sagging breasts from nursing two babies. "Perk up girls, there's another baby on the way." Alone with her bad self with the kids off to school and her husband gone to work, she missed her daily work routine. At least her job kept her mind occupied with work and the office hobnob with co-workers gave her a vicarious diversion of polite interest and retrospection of the lives of others spiced with the occasional juicy gossip. She loved her role as mother and wife, but working as an administrative assistant in an office gave her more of a purpose. Now, she was alone and lonely. Yet, after deducting childcare expenses and transportation costs to and from work, she barely brought any money home from working a 40 hour week. Her time now better spent with her children was more rewarding and beneficial to their growth and her sanity. Nonetheless, the job she gave up to stay home with the kids had made her feel important, had given her a sense of self, and afforded her own money to buy the things she needed without having to ask her husband. She sometimes felt she needed his permission to buy makeup, hair care products or even a pair of shoes. Somehow, he always had money. He gave her the money that she needed, but not without that look that made her feel small, unimportant, unappreciated, and unloved. She felt as she did when she was a child asking her father for money to buy candy. She hated that look, the look that men give women, that look they give when they think they are smarter, better, and when they think they are humoring them. She was pregnant again for the third time. It was a mistake. A moment of passion that consumed her when she saw a flicker of Phil the way that he was in the past, slim, vibrant, loving, caring, attentive, and happy only to watch him fade away and disappear from her memory and reappear in his present form, heavier, balding, detached, distant, unresponsive, and angry. His job gets the better of him and she gets what's left. He comes home tired and cranky. Mindlessly staring at the television drinking beer while she cooks, cleans, tends to the kids, and pays the mortgage, car payments, and credit cards, he zones out to a place where she can't reach him. She wished she had a special place to go where he couldn't find her. She thought about the hyperbaric chamber again and laughed. "Daddy, where's Mommy?" "Mommy's decompressing." Suddenly, she saw the hyperbaric chamber door open from its vacuumed seal as she stepped out from the chamber and out from a cloud of fog that emerged around her looking so much like an alien alighting from a spacecraft. They don't go anywhere. They don't do anything. The distance between them is too far to bridge with this house and with their children. They thought they could fix their problems by buying this house and by having another baby. Now divorce, once a possibility, was just as impossible as the thought for a blissful marriage. The encumbrances and entanglements of their debt insured that they remain together until death do they part, something they both sometimes looked forward to experiencing for a change and for a chance at restful peace. Nonetheless, they were content to be complacent. It wasn't so bad. Was it? Except for the Sports Channel and the big screen, high definition television that he bought without consulting her, there's never enough money for any other personal entertainment activities. They cut that out of their budget long ago to afford this house, a 4 bedroom, 2 ½ baths, and two car garage home on a quiet street and in a better neighborhood. She couldn't remember when she had her hair done last. Except for taking the girls to Disney World four years ago, before they bought the house...the house...the house...they haven't had a family vacation or a couple's weekend getaway since. It's the same boring routine every day, every night, and every weekend. It was not her dream to go from a blushing bride to a pregnant mother to a bored housewife. She wanted more out of life than to discuss a manicure, massage or makeover. She felt trapped on suburbia drive and hidden among all the other women who looked like her, talked like her, and acted like her. Now one of "them" to those who viewed her turning down or turning out of her street and/or pulling in and pulling out of her driveway, she felt invisible, ordinary, and stuck. Only here, she wasn't even one of them. Her husband didn't make enough money for her to fit in with this bunch of self-centered shrews. She felt isolated and ostracized in her own neighborhood. She felt as detached to their affiliated acceptance as she felt trying to find a common ground for communication with her husband. She had no one to talk to and no one to help her through this difficult period of her life. "Help!" she screamed for no one to hear. "Help!" she screamed for no one to care. "Help! Help! Help!" Knowing that she'd have to shovel the snow before it iced over, she looked out across the street as the lawn care truck pulled up to Gayle's house to plow out her driveway and snow blow her walkway. The sound of their snow blowing machines shattered her sanity in the way that a prolonged electrical shock would in the guise of electrical shock therapy. She watched as Gayle's housekeeper pulled in the freshly plowed driveway wondering what got so dirty in a house without children and without pets that she needed the services of a housekeeper three times a week. She wanted Gayle's life, but with kids. Maybe, it's a boy this time she thought allowing her hand to slowly circle her stomach as her mind imagined a tall, handsome son helping her with food shopping and household chores, such as raking leaves and shoveling snow. Having a boy this time would make her husband happy. A son would make him stop pressuring the girls to learn football plays and to go out for a long one, while he pretended that he was the quarterback of the New England Patriots. She laughed with the thought of her new born son barely walking and wearing a Patriots shirt and an oversized football helmet, while learning to throw and catch a football. "49! 28! 37! Hut! Hut! Hut!" Phil already made it known that he would name his son Brady, after Tom Brady, the quarterback of the New England Patriots and she reluctantly agreed. She was glad that Phil had already named their Black Lab Touchdown, otherwise that name may have been considered by him as a potential name for their son. Once he had decided on a name, he was just as opposed to entertaining other selections as he was to having her mother come for an extended visit to help out with the new baby once it was born. She was relieved that he had left her to name the girls, Allison and Melissa, otherwise he may have named them Bella and Chick, after Coach Belichick of the New England Patriots. Her argument that the kids at school would taunt and tease a boy named Brady Grady fell on deaf ears. He thought that Brady Grady was a great name, a man's name, and a name when famous would be remembered to the Football Hall of Fame. He hated his name, Phil, especially after she teasingly reminded him that he shared his first name with Phil Simms, the great quarterback of the New York Giants. He hated the Giants as much as he hated his name. She was glad that they were not English citizens because if knighted, her son's wife would be Lady Brady Grady. Phil was never home on weekends and even when he was home physically, he wasn't there for her mentally. Floating away down Budweiser River, his mind was lost in the blaze of blurring plays, quick timeout runs to the refrigerator, and surround sound whistle blows of high school, college, and professional football games. In the way that he sat on the edge of his seat with bulging eyes, cheering yells, and red-faced jeers, she wondered if he gambled on the games. She didn't know. How could she know? He kept close tabs on the money. She didn't even know how much money he made every week. He kept that from her, too. She didn't want to know. Knowing how much he made and how much he spent on himself would be cause for just another fruitless argument. She wondered had he not blown out his knee in college, where'd they be now. Maybe, she'd get the diamonds, the mink, the roses, and be driving the Lexus or maybe Phil would be married to Gayle and she'd still be sitting here watching the world pass her by from her living room window while watching the Wheel of Fortune on Phil's super-sized television screen from across the street with Glenn. It was then that she realized that he was just as unhappy as she was. He wasn't living his dream life. He never wanted to be a traveling salesman. He wanted to play football. Once he could no longer play with his bad knee, they revoked his college scholarship a year before graduation. It was then that she realized that he was as depressed and angry, as was she. She didn't know how to fix what was broken or to find what was missing. How could she? She didn't know what was broken or what was missing, nor did he. She had an inkling of those things that were wrong. She had a feeling of how things could be better, especially living in the shadow of Gayle's rainbow. It was all such a mess and all so overwhelming. Love Online Only her daughters filled the holes that Phil escaped through and she found it safe to live on the other side of the wall riddled with cracks. Occasionally, she'd look out through the openings, as she does when looking out her living room window while hiding behind her draperies or disappearing behind her veiled curtain wearing her mask of contentment, if only to avoid the confrontation and the conflict. Just as she focused on her frustration, she realized her husband's inability to cope by numbing himself with alcohol while hoping to sooth his bleak reality with the excitement of football. It was obvious to her now that they were a co-dependent couple staying together out of habit, financial necessity, and for the children's sake, but not for love. They could be happier, but it wasn't so bad. They had the kids and this beautiful house, after all, in this safe, pretty neighborhood. Things could be worse. She should have a problem. In hale and relax, she told herself. Decompress from the stress of every day life. Meditate and be happy. Her constant denial that "things could be worse" and "it wasn't so bad" numbed her into settling for status quo. Not ever having a rapport of give and take, yin and yang, hot and cold, their relationship never tested the extremes, explored the outer boundaries, and traveled the deepest depths or the highest peaks of love. Instead, it slowly ebbed into a rutted, deep ditch of silent suffering and complacent co-existence. What happened to the giddy happiness they experienced when they found one another and fell in love? Where did that couple go? They've realized all their dreams with marriage, children, and their very own beautiful house, but why are they both so unhappy? Too weak to save themselves; an artery of their relationship severed long ago and they were slowly but fatally bleeding to death. The temporary bandage that saved them from dying was the children and the house. Indebted and unhappy living their dream of owning a big house in suburbia, they languished somewhere under their rainbow always able to see it, but never able to grasp it and pull themselves up on top of it. They didn't know how to dig their way out. Instead of making their way to the top, not expecting any better, they grew accustomed to living at the bottom and watching the rainbow from afar. "We don't expect more than a dusting," said the weatherman. She turned off the television and looked out at the snow that had already dusted several inches of deep, white, fluffy stuff. "Fools!" Already hurt from his lack of interest, she hoped that Phil remembered it was Valentine's Day. Just as she thought that, she felt pathetic that she clutched to the one day of the year that was commercially earmarked for love when every day should be held in high reverence of that. Generally, he gives her a card and candy in the morning before leaving for work. Instead of a box of candy, she wished he'd take her out to a movie and/or to dinner. Maybe, he forgot and will remember during the day that this is their special day, a celebration of love and remembrance of times past before children, mortgage payments, and credit card debt. This is their day to unite as a couple and to reinforce the reasons why they are together still. Maybe tonight he has a special surprise planned. Maybe tonight he will give her the romantic evening of her dreams. She was excited with the thoughts of Phil whisking her off for dinner reservations some place fancy. Only, she had a special meal planned for tonight, his favorite. If he had planned a surprise on taking her out, she could always save what she cooked tonight for leftovers tomorrow. He called her a few minutes before he was scheduled to arrive home to tell her that he was going out with the guys and not to wait up for him. They were having a big Valentine's Day party at the strip club for a co-worker who was leaving the company. As she talked to him on the phone, no longer listening to his excuses for not being there for her again, she watched Gayle and Glenn climb aboard the Lexus for their Valentine's dinner at that new swanky restaurant that Gayle so enjoyed telling her about. She had her hair done and was wearing her new sparkly dress that glittered with so many colors of the rainbow beneath her mink coat. They looked nice. They looked happy. They looked in love. It was just her and the girls again eating another supper alone without him. He didn't wish her a Happy Valentine's Day. He didn't say that he loved her. "I love you. Happy Valentine's Day," she said to the reverberating echo of the dial tone. "Insensitive jerk," she said slamming down the telephone receiver. She looked at the pile of gifts she bought him with the Valentine's Day card crowning the top that hid a sexy message inside for a special romantic evening tonight. She suddenly remembered that she needed new batteries for her vibrator. She was horny. She was alone. She was frustrated. She ripped the Valentine's Day card in pieces and threw it in the trash. She looked down at her pregnant belly that she had hoped held his son, Brady Grady, and felt fat. Now, she hoped for a girl. She felt hungry and the food that she did not want and did not need, and that her husband drove her to eat, and that drove him to the strip club to pass out more dollar bills than he could not afford to give, would never fill the emptiness that just transpired between them. She felt hurt. She felt sad. She felt rejected. With the girls in bed, she turned away from Desperate Housewives reruns for the comfort of some erotic conversation online. As soon as she logged onto her site, she was greeted by the one she had hoped was there. "Hello, Mistyblue." "Hi, Tonytiger." "Happy Valentine's Day." Suddenly, the image of a bouquet of white roses appeared across her screen. He remembered. "Happy Valentine's Day to you, too." She was blushing and couldn't type her message to her mysterious cyber friend fast enough.