by shem802 10/10/10
I was dreaming that I was a real man. I dreamed I was about to make love to my wife, to fill her up and satisfy her as she had never been satisfied before. I awoke with a slight erection. My hopes raised, I looked over at my wife, Julia. Her beauty was undimmed at 42, and the dappled morning light coming through the curtains gave her long blonde hair an enchanting shimmer. I crept between her long slender legs. I am only 5'5'' tall to her somewhat Amazonian 5'10'', so we had always made an awkward couple in bed. I looked at my wife's beautiful pussy, and prepared my attempt to enter her. She rubbed her eyes, then shot me a bemused but bored look, a look that said she had been here before and knew what was coming. Sure enough, as soon as the struggling little tip of my penis touched her pussy, it shrank back like a snail, reducing from 5 inches to 1 inch in a second. I slumped away from her, frustrated and humiliated.
"Its OK, Philip", she said, leaning over and stroking my thinning hair.
"It's not OK", I said. "It must be a year since we made love properly. I can't imagine how frustrating this is for you. I feel like a pathetic failure."
"Hey there ..." she remonstrated. "It's not such a big deal. Let's just say it's not one of your strong points. Some guys are great in bed, some guys are great at taking care of their family. You're a great guy, in so many ways."
"Just not in that way."
"No, Philip", she admitted. "Not in that way."
I gulped. I knew what I wanted to say but couldn't bring myself to say the words. Words I had been trying to say for weeks, and thinking about saying for months, but had never been able to summon the courage. This time, finally, I forced the words out.
"Julia honey. Now please, don't get angry, just hear me out. You know I love you and I want you to be happy, right?"
"Yes, Philip, I know that. What is it?"
"Well ...", my throat went dry as I tried to mouth the words.
"God dammit, Philip, what is it?"
"Well ... have you ... have you ever thought of ... of ... you know ... taking a ... taking a lover?"
The lengthy pause told me the real answer. Then she replied.
"Of course ... of course not! How could you ask me that?"
"Because if you wanted to, well ... I would understand. I wouldn't stand in your way."
I shivered slightly as I said it. There was another long pause.
"But what about Becky?", she asked.
I shuddered at her blunt practicality. She was clearly taking this seriously. Our daughter Becky had just turned 16, and was apparently the first thing my wife had thought of as an obstacle to her taking a lover. Not fidelity, not her marriage vows, just how it could be done without our daughter finding out.
"Well", I said, "I guess you'd have to be very discreet."
She kissed me on the forehead.
"Thank you honey", she said. "You're such a doll. That's so considerate of you. I'll give it some thought."
For the next couple of weeks I agonized over the conversation we had had, replaying it endlessly in my head and wondering whether, or when, Julia would broach the subject again, or act on what we had discussed. When I looked to her for signs, she seemed distant and thoughtful. But she did seem more content than she had previously, so I supposed that was a good thing.
One evening, I was busy making dinner while Julia sat at the kitchen table going through her mail.
"Do you remember Roy?", she asked me.
"Your brother's friend Roy? Of course. How could I forget?"
Julia and I had been high school sweethearts, and her older brother David had always disapproved of me, calling me a nerd and a wimp. He and his friend Roy used to bully me and tell me to stay away from Julia. It was only when Julia's father told them to lay off that I got respite and our romance was allowed to develop.
"I bumped into him today", she said, so casually that I became suspicious.
"Great", I said sarcastically. "That's all we need."
"He's grown up a lot you know. He's not like he used to be. In fact he was quite the gentleman. He gave me his number and said he wanted to go out and catch up sometime."
"You want me to go out with Roy?", I said incredulously. "Like we're old buddies or something? No way."
"Well, actually", she said, then bit her lip nervously, "I was kind of thinking that maybe ... I could go out with him. On my own."
Her words hit me like a hammer.
"Oh my God, Julia. Please tell me you're not thinking what I think you are."
"It was you that suggested I could find somebody else, honey. I thought maybe, just maybe, Roy would fit the bill. He is an old family friend, and I know I can trust him."
Pictures flashed into my mind, filling me with horror. I had always suspected Julia of having a crush on Roy.
"But Julia, Roy? ... you can't be serious. The guy is huge for a start. He must be 6'4'' at least."
"Well ... maybe that's what I need right now."
I blushed, cut by her words. I tried to protest, to speak, but I couldn't.
"Look", she said, placatory, "how about if I take it really slow. I'll go out and have dinner with him, and then we'll just see how it goes."
So that Saturday evening I sat and moped as Julia prepared for her first date with another man. She had called him while I was out, so I didn't get to hear their conversation. I tried to imagine his delight and bemusement when she suggested that they have dinner just the two of them. Becky had gone to sleep over at a friend's for the night, so Julia was free to play without worry.
My wife sat at her dressing table, looking impossibly sexy in matching black bra and panties, garter belt and stockings, as she put the finishing touches to her makeup. She flattened her lips out and applied bright red lipstick. She glanced at me in the mirror, then stood and slipped into an elegant black dress. She looked lovely. There was a car beep outside the door.
"That's my cab", she said. "I shouldn't be too late."
She held her cheek out for me to kiss, so that I wouldn't smudge her lipstick. Then she walked down the stairs and out the door. The smell of her expensive perfume stayed with me.
I sat alone for maybe an hour, my mind racing with thoughts. I could not quite believe that it was really happening - that my wife was out having an unambiguously romantic dinner with another man. To kill the time I decided to clean the house. I cleaned everything, the insides of closets and appliances, until the house was sparkling. I had always found cleaning a calming activity. Around 10:30pm I heard a car pull up outside. I peeked through the curtain. It was not a cab. Julia was talking to the driver, who then pulled away. She had been true to her word and not stayed out late. I took some crumb of comfort from that.
When Julia came in she seemed like a different person – lively, smiling, and happy. She was maybe a little tipsy. I asked her how it had gone, and she told me it was wonderful and that Roy had been the perfect gentleman. They had reminisced about old times and caught up with each other's gossip. Roy was now a successful financier, and quite dashing and distinguished in a sharp suit, she told me. He had had a long string of girlfriends, but had grown tired of each one.
"Did you ... did you ... have any ... contact?", I asked, not really wanting the answer.
"Well, after the dessert had been cleared away, he took my hand in his, across the table", she said. "It was romantic rather than sordid. It was very nice actually. It felt very natural, very right. Then we kissed on the cheek when he dropped me off, and that was that. As I said, he was a real gentleman. He knows I'm a married woman. I told him I was nervous about the situation and he said that was fine and that we could just take it easy and have a nice time."
I was stung by her words. I could see them there at the table, hand in hand.
"It was a little awkward at first obviously", she went on, "but Roy handled it really well. I told him you knew I was going on a date with him and that you were OK about it. I told him we had been having problems ... sexually ... but that you wanted me to be happy."
Yeah, I'll bet he just lapped up that part, I thought. I felt mortified and embarrassed that someone else, another man, now knew of my inability to satisfy my own wife in bed.
"How did he react to that?", I asked.
"He was very understanding. He said not everyone is cut out for it, and not every man can rise to the challenge of having a woman like me. I was very flattered by that. He also told me he had always had a crush on me but hadn't wanted to go after me because I was David's little sister."
My cheeks were flushed red. My head was down.
"Are you going to see him again?" I asked, again not really wanting to hear the answer.
"Of course. I said I'd call him next time Becky was going out for the evening."
The following Friday, I was making some tea when I heard the words I had been dreading.
"Is it OK if I stay over at Ryanna's tonight?"
Becky always went to her mother to ask anything. Julia had always been in charge of discipline.
"Sure honey", my wife replied, glancing over at me. "What time are you going over there?"
"Around seven I guess."
"OK sweetie. Call us tomorrow if you need a ride home."
Julia couldn't hide her delight. She went straight to the bedroom to make a call, closing the door behind her.
As soon as Becky was out the door, she went and took a shower, then got dressed up to go out. She came downstairs in a long black skirt with a cream colored blouse. She looked great as usual.
"I suppose I don't have to ask where you're going?" I said, with a hint of bitterness.
"No you don't", she said. "And I wish you'd quit sulking. This is best for everyone. You suggested it, remember? Roy's just taking me out for dinner anyway. I'm having some fun, you should be happy for me."
This time he collected her from our house. He beeped his horn from outside, so I was spared from coming face-to-face with him. Julia rushed out, looking flustered but excited.
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