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Thanks goes out to ‘Techsan’ for his editing and suggestions.
Damn authors! Always playing head games. I don’t even know what I believe anymore. It all started a few years ago when I started reading erotic stories. After twenty plus years of marriage the sex wasn’t happening as often as I liked. So after fifteen thousand arguments with the little woman I just said, “Hell with it.” If she didn’t want to do it that often, then I would at least read about it.
I always thought I knew what kind of person I was. But, after reading so many stories I don’t know anymore. I should just stop reading the damn stories but I can’t. I’m addicted and I don’t want to be. It’s kind of like reading “The Inquirer,” a trashy magazine. I just want to know.
Reading this shit is as bad as smoking, drinking, or even taking pot. It’s addictive and ruining my life. My mind just doesn’t seem to have the answers anymore. Fantasies, realities, truth, lies. I can’t seem to get a grip. Are there other people like me out there? Are most marriages like mine? I wish I knew.
Our marriage seemed pretty normal. Three kids, grown up now, house, two cars, lots of bills. Not enough time together. I guess we put everything in our lives ahead of ourselves, or maybe the sex just got old and not worth the bother. Whatever it was I wanted to change it. So I started reading the damn stories. I had to ask myself, “Fantasies or realities,” no-one could put up with some of the shit I was reading about. Wives wanting to swap? Husbands saying, “Fuck my wife, please,” parties that turned into orgies. Men bringing strangers home to fuck their wives. Interesting reading but it was “Sodom and Gomorrah” all over again.
All I wanted was to liven-up my sex life a little. I didn’t want to fuck the whole damn planet. I did wonder how I felt about my marriage, my wife, my sex drive. I wasn’t out to have affairs but to just take care of my own wife.
One day I helped my brother-in-law move some furniture. After we finished we went over to the neighborhood bar and had a couple of beers. When we arrived the place was nearly empty. Then in through the door came in a woman who looked a little inebriated. Maybe in her forties, not bad looking but looked like she has been around the block a few times. She sat down next to me, why I don’t know. Speaking with an accent, she said she was from Canada and was coming down to visit friends. Her vehicle had broken down and a man gave her a ride but dropped her off at this bar saying that was as far as he could take her.
She had on a skirt, no hosiery of any type. When she sat on the bar stool, her skirt really rode up her legs. She didn’t seem to care much one way or the other. I guess you could say she looked pretty slutty. I’m a guy and there was no-way I could not stare at her legs. I wasn’t a saint, I was a man having a beer in the bar. My bro-in-law got up and sat down on the stool on the other side of the gal. She wanted another drink and of course we got it for her. Joe, our bartender, just laughed. He has seen women like this come in a lot more than we did..
I put my hand on her leg just above her knee, almost as though it was an accident. I would just apologize if she said anything. She didn’t say a word. I started to get a hard on. I couldn’t help it. I haven’t touched another woman like this in years. I decided to get brave and slide my hand up her thigh a little. She just smiled as though I had shaken her hand. I slid my hand up her thigh. It was skin all the way up. I couldn’t help myself. I slid right up to her pussy. Damn! No underwear on. Just a hairy damp wet pussy. She smiled at me and I slid two fingers right into the moist orifice. It didn’t seem to phase her. This must be the type of broad you find in some of these erotic stories.
I was finger-fucking her when I felt another hand on mine. It was my brother-in-law John’s. He must have had the same idea I had. We both started laughing. It kind of killed the sexual atmosphere that we created, so I pulled my wet fingers out of her wet pussy. My God, so much wetness. I held my fingers to my nose. It stunk, I mean it really stunk. The guy that dropped her off must have fucked her. Damn, sure killed the mood for me. I said that I was going to the men’s room and would be right back. I had to wash my hands, they smelled nasty.
When I got back, I told John I was ready to go. As we were getting ready to leave, she asked us if we could drop her off at her friend’s house. Being the nice guys and her letting me get some jollies, we took her to her friend’s. I offered to drive and John jumped in the back seat with Charlotte. That’s what she told us her name was. She said her accent was French. I should have guessed that when she said she was from Canada.
I was hardly out of the driveway when John had her skirt up and his zipper down laying the hose to her. He asked me if I wanted in on the action and I just replied, “No, Thanks.” We dropped her off, actually John walked her to the door. I thought bahis firmaları that was nice of him but of course she was pretty intoxicated and we wanted to make sure it was the right place.
The little bit of action I had made me horny. When I walked in, I went up to my wife Kathy and put my arms around her and squeezed her boobs. It pissed her off and she elbowed me in the side. Damn! it hurt.
I said, “All I wanted was to love you up a little.”
She said, “Grabbing me by the tit is not my idea of love. Why don’t you go and read the porno like you usually do?”
Another argument over the damn stories. How come none of these authors wrote about real life? I don’t know wives like the ones I read about. Most of my friends and relatives had wives like mine. On a scale of one to ten, one being the lowest, my wife rated sex around a two. I wish I could get her more excited but it just wasn’t working.
I remember the movie, ‘Sex, Lies, and Video Tapes’. It was about a man … it was James Spader, but that’s not important … who talked to married women and they told him all about their sex lives. He taped all the conversations on VCR tapes. Man, now that’s the kind of job I want. All these married women telling me how they lost their virginity and the deepest secrets they kept from the husbands. They would also tell about their fantasies.
Okay, starting today, that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to become an author/writer. If there are any women who want to write to me and tell me about their sexual lives and fantasies, I will start a novel and post all these stories after editing them. I’ll title it, “The Sexual Life Of The Married Wife.” I will not give away names so that the women won’t be afraid to write to me.
Now that would be a story worth reading. Maybe I could get my wife Kathy to tell me her story, then I could help her live any fantasies she has. I really want to please her but it just doesn’t seem to be working. She is nothing like the women I read about in the stories. In most cases that’s a good thing.
A couple of days went by and I got a call from John. He said he got in a horrible fight with his wife and he’s not going to have sex with her for a month. He told me he got Gonorrhea from Charlotte. He was afraid he was going to pass it on to his wife Sue, so he started an argument with her about how she always holds sex back from him. So this time he’s going to do it to her. No sex for a month. He didn’t want to tell her about the incident. I started laughing and said, “Now I know why it smelled so bad.” I was glad I stayed true to Kathy. She would divorce me if I came home with a disease.
The holidays were coming and it was time for all our Christmas parties. Our first one was Saturday. Kathy looked great but, of course, to me she always looks great. She had on a reddish color dress, cut to show some cleavage. It was a couple of inches above her knees. We sat with a few other couples who belonged to the club. We had drinks and food, did some dancing. Just being with Kathy made me feel good. I thought I would do like they did in those damn stories and put my hand above her knee and slide it up her legs. Pantyhose, damn pantyhose, I hated them. I just wanted to feel up my wife and I couldn’t even get to the goods.
As I was sliding my hand up her thigh she gritted her teeth and look at me. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing. I’m not your slut. I’m your wife.”
Why does it always work in the stories? I was just getting aggravated. I just wanted to make love with my wife but she wasn’t going for it. That pretty much killed the evening for me. When we got back to the house, she told me that she didn’t like the way I’d been acting lately. She blamed it on the stories. She always blamed it on the stories. She went to bed and I just shut the door and went to read some more stories.
I was reading about cheating wives. I kept making Kathy the cheating wife. I don’t know why, she has never cheated on me that I know of. I always like the husbands to get even. I know that’s what I would do if I ever caught Kathy cheating on me. At least I hoped that’s what I would do. I was always drawn to those kind of stories. I even wondered if I would like to see Kathy with another man. I often think that, for the instant gratification, the answer might be yes. But then after it’s over would be a definite no. I wanted men to admire her, to see how great she was but I didn’t want anyone touching her. I wanted her to want me, me only.
The next night after I got done reading the stories, I walked into the bedroom and there sat Kathy with tears in her eyes. It always bothered me to see her cry. I quickly sat next to her and asked, “What is the matter?”
She looked at me and said, “I’m losing you!”
“What? Where did you get such a stupid idea? I don’t love anyone but you. I haven’t had any girlfriend or affairs. What made you think I was going anywhere?”
“I’m not losing you to another woman, at least not yet. I’m losing kaçak iddaa you to your stories. I can’t be the woman you want me to be. I read some of the stories you’ve been reading. I don’t want sex with another man or a woman. I don’t want to share you and I hope you don’t want to share me. If you ever brought a guy home and wanted me to have sex with him, I would divorce you. I love you but I can’t live with a man I don’t trust and don’t respect. If you want to share me with other men I know I would lose all my respect for you. No good decent husband would want to share his wife.”
“God, Kathy, I don’t want that either. That’s just some of the stories I read. I was trying to find out different ways women react and what they want. Then maybe I could do that for you. I love you, Kathy. I know that I have been a lousy lover the last few years, maybe even longer. I want to change but I need your help. I need to know what your likes and dislikes really are. We been married twenty-four years and I still don’t know you well enough to make you sexually happy. We haven’t really communicated in a long time. I need you to talk to me, I need to know your likes and dislikes, your fantasies. I’ll try to understand your needs if I can.”
“Jim, I’m sure I’ve told you a lot of this stuff over and over throughout the years. But I’ll try and explain everything I can to you again. My sexual past is not going to give you a hard-on. I’ll tell you that right off the bat. I am not fond of men in general. I don’t mean to say I hate men. I don’t trust most men, I never have. You see, when I was just a young girl, I was molested. I wasn’t raped. There’s a difference. There were a number of us little girls that hung around together in the park. One day a man came by and talked to us and gave us candy. After he gained our trust he had us touch his sexual parts. He then touched ours. I got scared and ran home and told my mom. We went back to the park with the police and the man was arrested. I had to testify as a little girl at the trial. I was really scared. I never trusted men after that.”
“My God, Kathy, I’m so sorry. I wish I had listened before. I feel so bad for you.”
“That’s why I explained to our girls the way I did, to protect them. They needed to know not to be afraid if something happens to them. It’s not their fault. Don’t be afraid to talk to us, that we were always there for them. So you see, Jim, I always had a distaste for men that tried to grope me. To try and feel me up, if you will.”
“What about me, Kathy? We’ve made love hundreds of time, didn’t I turn you off?”
“No, Jim, I fell in love with you. When we met you actually courted me. Remember the candy, flowers, the first kisses? I wanted you, Jim. I didn’t put you in the category of a stalker but as a lover. I wanted to make love to you but I needed loving and caressing and understanding. You did all those things for years. Then of course our child rearing years changed everything. Between working, cleaning, all the house chores, I was tired a lot. I just didn’t put sex or love on the top of our agenda and eventually it just became mundane. In the last couple of years you became kind of a pervert. You tried to treat me like those men in some of those stories treated their wives. I was remembering my childhood all over and it was bothering me.”
“Why didn’t you come and tell me? Why did you stop confiding in me?”
“You became part of the problem, Jim. You wanted women like those in your stories. I read those stories and I can’t be like them, Jim. I just want you,” as she started to cry.
I held her. My God, all these years she was holding so much in. I asked her about fantasies, whether she had any?
“Jim, to be honest, you were my only fantasy. I wanted a caring man. That was you, Jim. I wanted an affectionate lover, and a good husband, again that was you. I have never been with another man, I have no desire to be. So in that sense, Jim, I have no other fantasies. I’m sorry.”
“Kathy, I want to do things for you and with you. I don’t care what other people think. I just want to be affectionate with you.”
“What do you mean by affectionate, Jim? I want to please you too.”
“Well, remember when I was sliding my hand up your leg and you didn’t want me to?”
“But, Jim, we were in public. Do you want other people to see you groping me?”
“Not groping, honey, loving you. I wanted them to see we were in love and I could make you feel good anytime, anywhere, as long as we don’t get arrested. I wouldn’t want the kids to think we were perverts,” I laughed.
“I don’t know, Jim, that’s kind of scary. What if someone sees your hand going up my dress?”
“They would say, ‘What a lucky fellow to have such a beautiful woman. I wish I was in his shoes.’ Then they would get hard-ons and not be able to do anything about it.”
“But, Jim, they may see my private parts. Do you want that? Other men to see me? If your hand is on my breasts or pussy, people are sure to see it.”
“Honey, kaçak bahis after reading the stories and trying to find my true feelings, this is how I feel. I love you with all my heart. I want you and I don’t care if another man sees parts of your body. I don’t care. As long as no one but me ever touches them. If I’m fingering you and you are enjoying it, I don’t care if someone sees us. If we don’t make it home and make love in the car, I don’t care if someone walks by. You see, Kathy, this was very hard for me. I know you dress sexy. I know that other men look at you. It makes me feel good that I have such a gorgeous wife. As long as you belong to me and me only, I want other men to desire you. I just don’t want them to have you. Do you understand where I’m at with this? Do you think you might be too modest to try this?”
“Jim, I’m a mother. Any woman who has had a baby lost her modesty a long time ago. Getting a pap test or a mammogram is another modesty killer. I’m just worried about being known or thought of as a slut.”
“You’re my wife. I promise to always protect you. I’ll always be there for you and I promise whenever you say stop, I will stop. I want us to enjoy our relationship. That means both of us. If you’re not enjoying it, I promise to stop. Also if any man ever tries to touch you, I’ll be there to protect you. I don’t want men trying to grope you.”
“Jim, you’re a little late there. Men have tried to grope me my whole life. I don’t think there is a woman alive that wasn’t groped. I don’t think the majority enjoy it but it does happen.”
“Kathy, why didn’t you ever tell me? I could have protected you.”
“Sweetheart, that’s one of the things I always loved about you. My knight in shining armor. Men are always trying to touch women. Why they think that a stranger touching a tit is a major turn on for a woman is beyond me. A man putting his hand on my ass is asking for big trouble. I’ve slapped a lot of faces and kicked quite a few gonads. It seems to be a pretty good deterrent.”
“Kathy, will you think about some of the things we talked about. I want to try and add spice to our love life but it takes two of us. Anytime you say ‘No,’ then no it is. Just say you’ll try?”
“Jim, you need to know that I’m not the only one who has slacked in the love department. There’ve been a few times that I tried and you didn’t respond, and a few other times where you couldn’t get it up. I took that as my body wasn’t good enough to give you an erection. That hurt me too, knowing my husband couldn’t respond to me. I even asked you to go to the doctor and you refused. How do you think that made me feel?”
“I’m so sorry, I think I had stress problems at the time. I know I have it solved now. It won’t happen again but if it does I promise to seek medical attention. Because if I can’t get excited looking at you, I need a coroner not a doctor.” I couldn’t tell Kathy, but the reason I couldn’t get it up was I had masturbated just a few minutes before. I had just decided that if I wasn’t getting any, I’d do it myself. Just bad timing.
We didn’t make love that night. I knew she needed time to think. We did cuddle, cuddling is good. Just being close to her was nice. She just backed up into me as I cuddled up against her butt. She didn’t object to me even touching her breasts. Just maybe things were starting to work out.
The following Saturday we had my work party. I worked in a large factory. There were hundreds of people at the party. We sat with her sister Sue and Joe. They were back to talking but Joe had another week of treatments before having sex. I couldn’t help laughing when looking at Joe.
My Kathy looked great. She just knew how to dress. Always sexy but not slutty. More cleavage and a black dress that was dressy as hell. It was just about four inches above her knees and nearly no back. It had cups for her breasts, she couldn’t wear a bra with it. She looked beautiful. She looked at me and said, “Jim, I want you to know that I dressed entirely for you tonight. I hope you like the way I look.”
“Like? You mean love the way you look. I don’t know if I want you to dance with anyone else. I don’t know if I want any men that close to you.” I didn’t tell her but the only drawback about the way she dressed for me was the damn pantyhose. I hate pantyhose.
Everyone wanted to dance with Kathy. She looked at me and laughed every time a man put their hand on her bare back. I guess she thought it was funny, but where else could they put their hands? I didn’t like the alternative. She wouldn’t let anyone pull her in close to get a feel of her breasts. It looked like a few tried to get her close but her look stopped them. She was one hell of a woman. I just should have taken the time to communicate with her earlier. I know she had told me about her past before but I probably just wasn’t paying close enough attention.
I danced with Kathy and pulled her in close so that her breasts were against my chest. She looked at me and smiled. I put my arms around her and slid my hands down off her bare back and put them lightly on her butt. I pulled her into me to see what her response would be. She squeezed me around the middle and said, “Only you, baby, only you.”
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