An odd title to a story, you may think, but Martini was my wife's favourite tipple for many years. It was the first drink I ever bought her and over the years, we always had a laugh about the 'Any time, any place, anywhere' advert that they used to promote their product. My wife of twenty years, is Martina or Marti for short. We had two wonderful daughters, Jane and Sandra, aged eighteen and sixteen respectively. My name is Martin, the surname is not important to my story.
My wife and I had met when we were both in high school when we were just sixteen years old. She was a beautiful, dark haired and trim bodied, five foot six and I was immediately attracted to her. Thankfully, the feeling was mutual and we were together from that point on. Her family were strict Catholics and Marti was determined to walk down the aisle a virgin. This did not stop us from heavy petting and she loved it when I sucked on her breasts and sweet pussy. I quickly discovered that her breast sand nipples were not the most sensitive of her erogenous zones. Her ears and lobes were so sensitive that after a few minutes of touching them softly with my fingertips or better still, my tongue and teeth, she would she would surrender access to her pussy for more nibbling and sucking. She would stroke me and bring me to a climax with her hands, but she refused to take me orally. I thought that once we were married things would change and our sex life would simply mature and develop as we got older.
I left school at eighteen and got myself a job working for a local engineering firm as a trainee service engineer. The company, Aircraft Engineering serviced aircraft and also manufactured specialist sub components for the aviation industry. Marti also left school at the same time and worked in a local solicitors office as an accounts clerk. We continued to date and soon, to the delight of both our families, got engaged and in due course, married. We were both inexperienced and gradually learned how to bring each other pleasure. Marti still refused oral sex and as for anal, forget it! We stuck to the tried and tested missionary sex, her on top or me taking her doggie style was not on the agenda. She said that anal sex was for animals and anyway it was against the wishes of her Church. I learned to live with the limitations as I loved her even if our sex life was boring. Our two girls, Jane and Sandra came along in rapid succession and I finally had to make Marti and ultimatum, either she go on the pill or I would be using condoms in future. She was reluctant to do either, but I insisted and got my way. She decided the pill was the best option as she liked to feel me ejaculated inside her and a condom was not the same.
During this time, I had two great hobbies, I played Rugby at our local club and I liked to have a drink afterwards. I was a fair player, never first team standard, but pretty useful Number 8 for the Seconds. I like to think I was pretty popular sort of guy and I always flirted with the girls that hung around the club after games. Marti was often with me so nothing was ever going to come of the flirting I indulged in, though I had a few offers to slip out the back with some willing girl. When we went to parties or nights out, which wasn't that often, I would dance with Marti and the other females present and occasionally things got a little steamy, hands roamed and caressed where they shouldn't have, but noting further ensued. Marti got a reputation as the Ice Maiden as she rebuffed any and all such advances very quickly. A few of our male friends had felt the force of her hand when she slapped their face after some inappropriate advance was made.
I'm not proud of this next bit, but I started screwing around! After seven years of missionary sex, I cheated on my Marti! We were on tour in Scotland prior to the week end of the Calcutta Cup match, Scotland v England game at Murrayfield. My club had a tradition of travelling up on the Friday, playing against a local club in the morning of the match and celebrating in Edinburgh after the match. This was the first time I had been able to afford to go and I was really looking forward to it. At the after match party in some pub, I picked up a girl and ended up at her place for the night. I was not alone, one of my team mates had pulled her flat mate and we shagged all night. The girl was amazing and there was nothing she wouldn't do. Our final time in the early hours of the morning was in her bum as she screamed at me to bugger her!
We joined up with our teammates the next morning and as a consequence of our nocturnal activity the previous night, got some pretty robust treatment. We played the match, which we won even with our hangovers. On the long trip home, I was worried about the tale of my indiscretion getting beck to Marti. I confided in my pal from the night before and was told, "You need have no worries on that score. We operate a strict 'what happens on tour, stays on tour' policy. It's never been violated yet, so the Ice Maiden will never heat anything about it from us! You just need to keep the look of guilt off your face and pretend nothing's amiss."
It was with trepidation that I went home, but Marti, bless her, never suspected a thing and I was careful not to do or say anything to arouse her suspicion. When I realised that I had gotten away with it, any opportunity when we were playing in a match away from home, I accepted. I had some pretty hairy experiences, from knee tremblers with the wife of one of the opposing team behind the clubhouse to being third in line as the team banged some slut on our coach on the way home. I tried it all and found it sexually very satisfying and looked for every opportunity to cheat on my wife. One thing though, I was careful never to shit on my own doorstep! Marti was none the wiser, we kept to our now routine, Sunday and Wednesday night of boring missionary style love making.
About three years after I started cheating that I got found out! It was after one of those away matches, funnily enough not one where I had scored with the opposite sex that I was met at my front door by and angry Marti. She accused me of cheating on her and before I could deny it, she showed me the pictures depicting me and a young, leggy blonde engaged in sex. I was on my back and the blonde astride me in one picture and in the other we were in the classic sixty-nine position with her pussy in my face and my cock deep in her mouth! There was little point in trying to deny it, she had me by the short and curly's, so I tried pleading with her, saying that it was a one-time mistake and that I regretted ever talking to her and that it was her that I really loved. That didn't cut it with Marti at all. She refused to believe me and started in on me calling me, quite rightly, a bastard and a cheat and much more in that vein. I was trying to work out, when the photograph had been taken, how much she knew and who gave her the photographs? I still don't remember the incident or the girl for that matter, but it was recent! That eliminated a few of my team mates, but there were still about ten candidates for Judas! The harangue continued for about an hour and ended with her telling me to pack my stuff and get out, she burst into tears and locked herself in the bathroom. I was thankful that the kids were at their grandparents and did not witness our bust up! I packed some clothes and went to my brother, Tom's house until Marti calmed down enough for me to talk to her. Tom's wife, didn't want me and made that very clear from the start. In the end it took me three days to wheedle my way back into my own house and three weeks before she would let me back into our bed! We had some counselling from a nice middle aged man called Peter. He managed to get us to open up to each other. During one of the early sessions, I made a comment that she was a prude and referenced the fact that she was knick-named the Ice Maiden by my pals at the rugby club. That started a whole stream of angry words mostly from Marti accusing me of trying to blame her for my infidelity!
Over the next few meetings, Peter our counsellor made us look closely at our relationship and face up to the fact that we had differing ideas of what was acceptable and what was not between two consenting adults. He suggested that we read several books he had on getting the most out of sex and marriage. We had been given different books to review. I found out later, hers was full of graphic descriptions of sex acts between happily married couples. Mine was above the meaning of love and fidelity and the betrayal of trust that a partner felt when betrayed. When we had both read them, he asked Marti if she had learned anything from hers and if so to write her thoughts down and he would review them. He asked me to do a similar task and as I started to write, I realised how deeply I had betrayed her trust in me and by so doing had endangered our marriage to the point of divorce! To her credit, Marti admitted that she had been blinkered and by denying me everything but the most basic of sexual contact, she was partly to blame for my behaviour. It may sound trite, but from that point we had the beginnings of a route to saving our marriage.
Marti and I got back together again as we both tried to repair the damage I had caused. I stopped playing rugby, though we still went to the club on the rare occasions we managed to get a babysitter. I never again strayed and stopped flirting with the other sex. Marti recognised that I was trying and gradually opened up to me about her desires. She would never initiate any changes to our sex life, but when I suggested she get on top one night, she did so without complaint and it proved to be very successful. She loved the fact that she could control the pace and depth of my penetration. She got very adept at taking me to the point of orgasm before slowing the pace and delaying my moment of ecstasy just that little bit longer. That in turn seemed to trigger her own orgasm and she told me many times afterwards that she wondered why I hadn't insisted on her at least trying it before. Another change to our routine came about after she attended an Anne Summers party! One of the rugby wives had invited her attend and I had to push her into attending. She came home very aroused and told me she had found it very enlightening and that she had bought a small vibrator! I was amazed and instantly thought that, maybe, just maybe, she was starting to come out of her shell. In some ways the use of the toys encouraged her to be a little more amenable to a more adventurous sex life. For instance, she loved me to use the vibrator on her clit and occasionally on her anus, where she allowed me to penetrate her a little with the vibrating point. She came off like a rocket when I did that, but she always stopped me when I tried to push it in any deeper. I tried to get her to talk to me about it for clearly she enjoyed every moment, but to no avail. So things had changed for the better and our love life was now three to four times a week.
