She also seemed primed for a lot of fucking and talked a lot about finally "doing it" once we were married.But marriage did not mean good sex. In fact... it was terrible. My wife wouldn't let me eat her pussy, a blow job was definitely out of the question, and she wouldn't even stroke my cock for me. As our marriage was falling apart she started drinking, and she would drink until she passed out more nights out of the week than not.One night she passed out, and when she woke up the next day,. The first rule, and really the most important one, was to always tell him the truth, no matter whether it was about her actions, feelings, or her thoughts. She was doing this out of her own free will; she was doing this because she needed it as much as he did. This meant that, as the saying goes, the truth would set her free.Rule two stated that she was not allowed to orgasm without his permission. This was the surrender of her most basic urge; it was her gift to him and a sign of her complete. She hoped that would buy the boys’ silence. She tipped Nick $300 and drove him home. “Sorry Nick, but I can’t do this anymore. Maybe for a long while. I’ll call you if I need you, okay?” Nick was scary looking, but kind of a nice guy. “You okay, Monica?” Sitting in front of Nick’s small house, she sighed. “I wish I knew.” Monica spent the rest of Christmas vacation brooding a bit. She treated herself to a shopping spree at the mall with some of the money. The rest she put back in her cedar. Her trunk found the front of my loose-fitting khaki shirt and ripped it off, leaving my full breasts exposed. She gently tucked at my pants, nudging me to undo the buttons.Once I was naked, the matriarch took my pants, turned around and slowly walked away, leaving me speechless. When she disappeared among the trees and I couldn’t see her anymore, my legs gave way. I slumped to the ground, breathing hard. Jack was beside me in a flash. At least she didn’t take my boots.“You know how lucky you.