Dear Delilah,
Recently my wife finally gave into one of my desires of the flesh, just to bring me happiness. And I made a grave error
that has totally ruined all the trust she ever had in me. You see Dellilah, we were both reared strict Baptists--we couldn't go
to school dances, we do not drink, and we still go to church 3 times during the week and twice on the Sabbath. The church
is how we met.
I hate to tell all about our intimacies, but our sex life has consisted of one position and one act for the three years we have
been married. I thought we were in a rut, and kind of jealous of the guys at work and their sex stories. So for the last 6
weeks I have been hinting, hoping, asking and even begging her for a change, or at least a little variety. Finally, probably to
shut me up; she gave in. She agreed to perform fellatio on me.
The day it was scheduled for I was so excited. I rushed home from work early, made a dinner, brought out the china, lit
some candles, turned on your show, took an extra good shower and used the expense cologne I usually wear on Sunday's
and holiday's. After dinner the moment finally came.
She still needed a little coaxing, but agreed and started to please me. It was then my stomach began to rumble. In all the
excitement and anticipation I had forgotten to take my lactose-tolerance pills before I ate the cheese soup for dinner. I couldn't,
or more accurately didn't want to stop her before it got worse; so I didn't say anything. She continued to give me
pleasure-unaware of what was brewing in my bowels. I had never experienced anything like the sensation she was providing
me and I drifted into euphoria.
It was then that I forgot about my stomach and allowed my muscles to unclench, where upon the foulest, sickest smell that
has ever been produced by a human body that is not dead and covered with maggots, spewed forth. Before she could dry
heave a second time--it got worse. My lactose intolerance byproduct squirted out and down her face and neck. She soon
become covered in reaking brown ooze. Then, It got worse.
Afterward, when she and the bedroom were cleaned I became irate at her for not resuming the act. I yelled, screamed,
threw things, and threatened her to finish. She left. That was 3 weeks ago, and I have only seen her once since--driving
away after she packed the rest of her belongings.
Please honey, I am very sorry, I don't know what came over me, and I desperately need you back. I love you. If you read this
letter the air just so I can confess my sins it would make me feel infinitely better, even if I don't get my love back. I seek forgiveness
from her, but will understand if she cannot.
Please pray for us both,
Luc J Soressan