Dear Reader,
This is a significant rewrite of a story that I recently posted. The first half has been re-edited and changed a fair bit (although some of it is the same), and the second half is a complete rewrite, going in a completely different direction, with a (much) happier ending.
I'd love to hear what you think - and whether you want to hear more about what this couple gets up to.
Cheers,
Randy.
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"Goodnight Babe, love you. I had fun on our date tonight, thank you." Josie kissed her fingertips, reached down, and tapped them gently on her husband's forehead.
Brad remained sunken into the couch. "Wanna cuddle naked?" he suggested, raising his eyebrows up at her, playfully.
They both knew what 'cuddle naked' really meant.
"No, I don't. Not tonight. I'm going to read my book and go to sleep."
Not ANY night, dammit,
ruminated Brad, to himself. He was completely unsurprised, but he still felt that familiar sting.
Not EVEN tonight, while the kids are sleeping at their grandparents' place, and we have the whole house to ourselves for the first time in ten fucking years.
But he'd learned long ago not to appear pushy. It would only widen the distance between them.
"That's OK Babe. I just love you so much, and I'm so attracted to you. I just want us to be closer, vulnerable with each other again, you know?"
And I was hoping that if we reconnected a little over dinner, like we seemed to, that we could come home and have a go at bringing a little intimacy back into this god damn stale marriage.
I'm so tired of trying. Will she ever want me sexually again?
"Good," replied Josie, before kissing her fingertips and planting them on his forehead once more. "We'll get there."
Her smile was nervous and apologetic, as she turned quickly and walked down the hallway to their bedroom.
Josie had occasionally mentioned that since having children, her hormones were all over the place and she wasn't happy with her body anymore. But Brad still found her incredibly sexy, even in her long, thick, frumpy woollen dressing gown. He watched her firm, round buttocks sway beneath it as she walked away, and felt his cock begin to swell with desire.
It was true that her body had changed since they had married, fifteen years ago. It was the natural result of carrying and giving birth to their three children. But at the age of 40, Josie's curves still sat in all the right places on her petite 5'5" frame.
In fact, Brad lusted after her more now than he ever had. He adored her extra curves, and they were never far from the forefront of his mind...
Her shoulders were slender and her lower back curled inwards, spreading down and out again like a vase into her rounded hips and pert bottom. The latter had a little more padding than it used to, but it still held magnificently firm and reinforced her feminine figure.
Brad could only imagine the enhanced sight and sound it would make now, if he were to gaze down whilst it slapped back against his belly, clapping open and shut, her pretty little asshole winking at him; or, how the weight of it would feel, as she bounced up and down on his dick whilst she milked him with her hips.
But he hadn't seen her bare bum up close for years, save for the odd stolen peek as she showered with the bathroom door slightly ajar. The sight always made him hungry, but the denial starved him.
Her breasts had also changed, sitting slightly lower, the result of producing the milk necessary to feed their three growing babies years earlier. But they were still delightfully soft, squishy orbs, just the right size for his hands, and to Brad, they were absolutely perfect. He longed to suckle on her dark pink areolas once more, and to feel her nipples harden against his tongue.
Her thighs were slightly thicker, now, too, but thanks to her genetics - and regular Pilates classes - they retained their shapeliness and tantalised Brad, like a stairway -- and a gateway - to heaven. He missed running his hands up and down their smooth surface, and nibbling up and down their soft inner flesh, teasing her as he made his way to her juicy sweet spot...
He was hungrier than ever for it. Hungry for her willing vulnerability. Starving for it, in fact. But sadly, for Brad, he had been starved of it for far too long.
And then there was her belly. Once as flat as a pancake, it now carried the most delightful little mound of dough. Brad absolutely adored it. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to nuzzle his face into it, kissing her belly button, and how it might jiggle slightly if he slapped his hard cock down upon it before entering her...
Brad's erection was now stretching against his briefs as the door to their bedroom closed behind her, leaving him sitting alone on the couch in his underwear once more.
Well, it used to be OUR bedroom.
Although Josie had suggested on numerous occasions that he return to their bedroom at night times, he did not feel like doing so anymore. He knew she probably preferred the bed to herself, anyway. He had attempted to return on a few occasions, but every time it had left him feeling even more dejected and alone.
There was particularly the period when, in his mind, things looked like they might improve for their intimate life. Hoping that she might desire him again, he had, at her suggestion, slept back in their marital bed for a few weeks.
But it was to no avail.
Being rejected, night after night, and then trying to sleep next to the woman he was so attracted to was even harder. It was torture for his cock, and his soul.
In the end he gave up and returned to the couch, where he could masturbate as often as he needed throughout the night, as lonely and unfulfilling as that was for him.
And the fact that most nights, their youngest child would still come in at all hours and sleep in their bed - something Josie cherished - also made it seem all too hard. He didn't want to begrudge her for this, and he loved his children more than he loved life itself, but he regretted allowing their extraneous needs to dominate the household.
Is this how marriages lose their spark and dissolve?
Brad often wondered if his heightened lust for his wife stemmed from a deep-seated biological reaction within him: her physical changes were a manifestation of the fact that she had chosen him to mate with, to build a family and a future with, to open her heart and legs to.
She had once begged him to flood her with his seed, to let his little swimmers invade her womb, to fertilise and transform her body into the vessel that would grow, carry, birth and feed his offspring...
To give her his babies.
To breed her
.
The changes to her body, therefore, symbolised Brad's virility, and that enhanced his own sense of masculine prowess. It was all he wanted for the two of them to grow together along with any changes to their bodies, and their lives. But for that, he still required intimacy. It was far too important to him. He couldn't shake his need for it.
Of course, as she had always been, Josie was still incredibly attractive to other men, too. Not least, when they took their regular family trips to the swimming pool, or the beach. Her blue, one-piece bathing suit clung to her hourglass figure, exposing the lower half of her supple, alluring peach, and he caught men of all ages gazing at her. He couldn't blame them: she was a work of art.
He knew that all these men were imagining the things they'd like to do with his wife: to strip her naked, to eat her ass, to thrust themselves into her.
This made Brad both jealous and aroused. She was the MILF of men's dreams. He would always masturbate furiously in the shower when they got home, knowing he was unable to have her enticing body for himself either.
So why the fuck did I bother getting a vasectomy? A vasectomy that she wanted me to have...
Brad released his aching cock from the restraint of his briefs and began to stroke it slowly.
He had used to wish that it was longer and circumcised, like the porn stars he watched, but he had learned to be grateful. At 6.5 inches erect, he thought it was an adequate length, and had an ample girth.
It was a well-sculptured penis, too, with thick, bulging veins popping out along the length of the shaft, and a smooth foreskin that retracted back across a perfectly domed, purple head.
So why doesn't Josie want it anymore? She used to tell me that she loved my cock.
He reached for his phone and snapped a photo of his concrete length from the underside, admiring its shape and width. His balls hung large and low in his slackened scrotum.
He'd tidied the area smooth earlier in the day - just in case - using his electric trimmers and a blade. Leaving only a patch of short, coarse stubble above his cock, which connected to the single row of fine hairs trailing up to his belly button, he'd hoped that Josie would appreciate it.
Behind his stiff member that dominated the forefront of the photo, he could see the body that he had worked so hard on lately: the broad, muscular shoulders and chest; the well-defined muscles that popped out of his arms; the veins in his biceps; the sure signs of a developing six pack.
In fact, his body was on the cusp of no longer being a 'dad bod.' At 39, he was close to being back in the best shape of his life, save for the last bumps of his love handles at the base of his chiselled back, and a thin doughy layer beneath his belly button.
His lower half was just as sculptured, with legs moulded from muscle and a firm, plump, perky backside: a man-shelf carved by countless squats, lunges and hip thrusts, which brought a statuesque balance to his figure.
But despite getting many compliments from friends, family and colleagues on his body transformation, his own wife had yet to show any interest in it at all. In fact, she seemed to ignore it completely.
This devastated Brad, for as proud as he was of his body, it was for her that he was transforming it. In fact, the lack of sexual interest from his wife over the past several years had impacted his self-confidence in many ways.
He was 5'9", which he found to be taller than most women but shorter than most men he encountered. For much of his life, his height had not bothered him at all. It had meant that some women overlooked him, not being the coveted 'six feet tall,' but back when Josie had wanted him sexually, that was all that had mattered.
And before his wife, he'd had enough luck with women. His confident, charming and funny nature, and his ruggedly handsome face - often described as 'cute' when he smiled and his dimples showed - had ensured a healthy amount of youthful romance with the opposite sex.
But he now sometimes looked into the mirror in fear, suddenly noticing and scrutinising every tiny line that had not been there years before.
Is this why she no longer desires me? Because she now sees me as a short, old man?
