And since then, John's looks had improved, if anything. His military training had solidified a physique which had never had any excess fat. His pectorals, covered with a fine matting of brown hair, were rectangular etchings on his chest. His belly was a washboarding design of rippled abdominals.

His cock was big without being too big. It certainly could hold its own in any comparison in any locker room; but, it certainly wasn't one of those monstrous cocks that had women squealing protest that it was too big-and really meaning that it was.

In fact, John, who could see his body reflected to him by the mirrored doors of the clothes closet by the side of his bed, saw nothing whatsoever about him that should turn off his wife.

So, what did turn Melissa off about him? And, there as little doubt in John's mind that Melissa was turned off. Melissa wasn't faking her present disinterest. Any minute, John expected Melissa to start snoring.

Hell, John had tried to do everything he could to please her. He had even gotten within licking distance of her blonde-haired cunt on occasion, having learned that no woman could resist getting herself off on a guy's tongue. But Melissa would have none of that! Christ no! You would have thought John's tongue was acid the way Melissa had crawled out from under him. And, she hadn't been putting up any token struggle just to increase her own enjoyment. She had been dead serious!

"You disgusting pervert!" That was just what she had called him. Disgusting. Pervert. John had been dumbfounded.

Actually, John had been more than just dumbfounded. He had been made just a little insecure. His ego had been definitely deflated. For almost a year he had wondered if maybe he hadn't known as much about fucking as be had come to think he knew. Melissa had made him so fucking paranoid, John had resisted all come-ons from the women at the club for fear he'd get the same negative reaction from them that he had gotten from Melissa.