"It's OK! It's OK. I understand," he said, putting his hands up for reassurance.
"No, it's not! I can see it in your face! You're disappointed!" she protested, tearing up as she spoke
Well, she had him there. Steve's forehead always furrowed a certain way when he was disappointed. Even as he tried to lift her spirits, she could see that his spirits sinking lower.
"Come on, don't reject me! We can go have sex! We can FUCK!" As Julie held her hands out, Steve stifled a chuckle. The way she said 'fuck' was as though she was ordering a foreign dish at a new restaurant. She offered sex as though it was the less desirable alternative to watching prime time TV. He knew she wanted to go and have sex. But unfortunately, it wasn't going to happen. It just wasn't the same for her.
Steve called it 'the unfortunate result.' That's what he got when his hormone replacement therapy sent his libido through the roof while his wife's laundry list of maladies and medications sent hers into the basement. Hypothyroid issues, menopause issues, depression issues, then antidepressant issues- take your pick. Her life was a blessing to him regardless. She had been his wife for some 27 years this coming August, and he would never ever leave her.
BUT.
'The unfortunate result' was that there was no sex- or at least, not enough good sex. She had the intellectual desire to have sex, as in she knew that was a vital facet of their relationship. But the mental seldom matched with the physical, so while the spirit was willing, the flesh often gets tired before he can finish. It used to make him very angry, but he slowly realized that she wasn't deliberately offering up meager sex; she couldn't help it. He would be fired up from the moment his eyes opened, whereas it took her a few days to gather up that much desire. They did have sex, but when they did, it was over far too quickly for what Steve had been expecting all day. Then when he'd ask for more the next day, the response would be 'but we just had sex yesterday.' That would be his answer for the next week or two. This was routine for her and excruciating for him.
Steve prided himself on being a faithful man. His father had been a philanderer. Good man, wife and 5 kids, paid his taxes, and he still stepped outside and nailed anything with a warm hole and a pulse. Steve never wanted to see Julie in as much pain as what his mother went through, so he remained faithful. No matter how long the dry spells last, he remained by her side.
BUT.
It had been 3 months of 'sorry honey I can't tonight' or 'oh no dear we have to stop.' He hated to see her hurt- even if it meant he never got to cum, he never wanted to see his wife in pain. So, when he put his hands up, he was sincere.
Not that she believed him. "You're just going to go jack off again!"
Steve chuckled again. "Julie, I told you. I've watched so much of that stuff, it's boring. You KNOW it's boring when you're admiring the set dressing and not the people fucking on set." He gestured at the fashionable new couch. "Why do you think I Amazoned that? I saw an Asian chick get railed by two BBCs on a couch just like that, and the takeaway was 'nice couch.'"
"Was that on that site with the desperate amateurs you like so much?" she asked sarcastically.
"No... this couch was on Anal Angels. The chair came from that desperate site." He gestured to an equally fashionable chair next to the window. "See? Perfect for reverse cowgirl... and scotch guarded."
She smiled and chuckled despite herself. He knew he could always make her laugh. "Look, dear. I know nothing I say will make you feel better, so tell you what. I'll go to Starbucks and get us some coffee and that Danish you like. What can I get you? Mocha frappe with extra whipped cream?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "You can spill it on my scotch guarded chair..."
Her giggles lit up the room. "Nah- just a flat white will be fine."
Steve smiled. "OK. Be right back." He grabbed his keys and made his way to the garage. As the door closed behind him, he let out a heavy sigh. Aside from his mother, this was the only other woman in the world who ever gave a damn about him. He loved her but come ON. Three months!? He got into his car and backed out of the driveway, laughing semi-angrily at his situation. The testosterone replacement therapy worked like a charm, so at 46 he had the sex drive of a 16-year-old who just discovered the internet. He had worked his way back from type-2 diabetes and gotten into good enough to have the other soccer moms wolf-whistle when he walked by. Also, once he lost his gut, he found another 2 inches of cock, bringing the total to 10 inches. He wasn't a porn star... but he was confident that he could be. He had the equipment.
Porn stars, however, FUCK. At most, you're a porn FAN. He laughed even harder as he made his way to Starbucks.
The line at the store was a boring place. People waiting to order their important sounding Italian coffee drinks didn't make for much conversation. Steve knew this as he waited to order his drinks.
"Let me guess... she wants a flat white?" The sultry voice startled him. He turned around and saw Rebecca standing there, one eyebrow raised per her usual. Aside from the coffee, she was the brightest thing about going to Starbucks.
"Yup. Flat white. Look at that forehead." There's no two ways about it: Rebecca was fucking HOT. That black Starbucks shirt was a size too small, so it stretched over her big tits. And that apron just made him want to peak underneath. But he never crossed that line; Rebecca and Julie were college roomies and were still besties. She knew him almost as well as Julie did. Aside from his stupid pajama pillow fight fantasies, the farthest things ever got between them was some off-color jokes after a few drinks as far as he knew.
He tried to unfurrow his brow and hide his frustration. "I wish she'd never told you that- why is it you women talk about ME all the time? Isn't there enough percolating around here?" He feigned laughter at his horrible pun.
She shrugged. "Hey, gossip is gossip, baby!" Rebecca looked him up and down once more. "Still no liftoff, eh?" He glared playfully at her. "Don't look at me like that- you're always so stiff when you haven't had any for a while." Ba doom boom, pssssh.
"Hehehehe...hehehe...you said... stiff." Steve did his best Beavis and Butthead impression, but the word stiff danced into his mind. His cock gets stiff when he saw naked breasts... and Rebecca's are right there beneath that tight shirt... what would it be like to reach under that apron and grope until he found that luscious nipple to lick... shit. SHIT.
Suddenly, Steve turned bright red and tugged his shirt front down. "Damnit," he whispered.
