Homewrecked and Hypnotized: From Vanilla to Her Virtual Control! Chapter 9

Bruce felt so guilty about spending all his money on Natalie and canceling dinner plans with his wife that he decided to make her dinner at home, instead. He didn’t tell her the plan, letting himself be overwhelmed by her disappointment when he told her they wouldn’t be going out that week. He had expected her to get angry, or maybe sad, but her response was so much worse.

“Okay,” she’d said, sighing. She didn’t look upset, just disappointed.

“I’ll make up for it,” he had said, desperate for her to believe him.

“No, you won’t,” she had replied, and pulled out her phone, ignoring him.

He wanted his home cooked meal to be a surprise, so he left work early, arriving at his house before his wife. He started to cook, ignoring the urge he felt to watch one of Natalie’s videos. He wasn’t going to do it. Tonight was about his wife, not Natalie. His phone chimed to let him know that Natalie had posted to her fanclub, but he swiped away the notification without opening the app. It would be there later. So will my wife, a voice in the back of his head said, but deep down he knew that wasn’t true. He had already lost her once. He wasn’t going to let himself lose her again.

“Bruce,” she said, surprise evident in her voice as she walked through the door and smelt dinner cooking. “What’s this?”

“Surprise!” Bruce said, giving his wife a quick peck before heading back to the food on the stove. “I told you I’d make it up to you for not going out tonight, didn’t I?”

“I guess you did, yeah,” she was smiling, and Bruce’s heart ached as he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his wife smile at him.

He poured her a glass of wine and instructed her to go dress up. She laughed as she raced upstairs to peel out of her work clothes and put on an evening dress. Bruce finished preparing the meal, and then he, too, put on nicer clothes, seating himself across the table from his wife. He lit a candle.

“Bruce, this is so romantic,” she said, honestly sounding impressed.

“Let’s hope it’s also delicious,” he replied, and she laughed.

They shared a perfect evening together, and Bruce was convinced he’d reminded his wife that she loved him. They laughed, they talked, and they didn’t argue once. His food was good, the wine was better, and they fell into bed together.

She kneeled on the bed, slowly slipping the straps of her dress off her shoulders, revealing her breasts. She slid the dress off her body, fabric pilling at her knees. She wore lingerie, a pair Bruce had bought her. He kissed his wife, tracing his hands over her body as she helped him out of her clothes, but his stomach had started to churn.

He didn’t find her attractive. Her body was so much different than Natalie’s petite, tan frame. She looked nothing like his Natalie.

She kept kissing him, her hand running along the outside of his underwear. She grasped his soft cock, stroking it, trying to work life into him. It wouldn’t work. Bruce knew it was never going to work. He belonged to porn now, Natalie had ruined him for anyone else, even his wife.

“Bruce,” his wife said, “please fuck me.”

“I can’t,” he said, desperate for her to understand. The happiness in her eyes had faded, the angry lines of disappointment reappearing on her face. She looked dissatisfied and frustrated.

“You can’t?” she repeated. He shook his head. “That’s fucking pathetic, Bruce.” She said, “You can barely pay attention to me normally, and the one time you seem to remember I exist you still can’t manage to get it up for me. You’re worthless to me. You don’t provide, you’re going to lose your job. You’re nearly bankrupt, if you aren’t already. You think I don’t know but I do. God, I should have stayed away from you. I should fuck someone else. It would probably be better than you ever used to be. I guarantee you I could find someone more attractive, with a bigger dick, and more money, who’s better in bed than you were tonight, if I wanted to.” She shook her head, the fire draining from her. “Let’s just go to bed, then.”

Bruce waited until he thought she was asleep, and then he finally, desperately, pulled up one of Natalie’s videos. He needed it. He felt like he might die without it. His cock stiffened before he even pulled it up. He was so pathetic. He could only get hard for Natalie, spending money on her, being denied by her, even being ignored by her. Why was Natalie’s inattention so much hotter to him than his wife’s attention? He didn’t know.

He stroked himself to a new video, an ignore fetish clip where Natalie has set her camera up to face the corner of her room. He knows she’s there, just off frame, staying out of his sight because he’s not good enough for her. He cums fast, letting out a quiet groan before switching off his phone and setting it on the bedside table.

“You’re really weird, and disgusting,” his wife whispered. “I saw that. I don’t know how I ever could have loved you. You’re just sad. Really fucking sad. Do you have a wall fetish now? What is wrong with you? Sad.”