Luther's Story
My name is Luther. I prefer not to reveal my surname; a decision I hope you'll understand after reading my story.
I've been married to Bella for forty-eight incredible years. I'm not exaggerating. Life with Bella has made me a more compassionate, more loving and an all around better person. We've raised three wonderful children. All are grown, I believe happily married, industrious and charitable. They've also given Bella and me five grandchildren and, indirectly, two great-grand children.
I have no complaints. Well, maybe one. What happened to the sex?
It just faded away. Let me explain.
When Bella and I were dating, the sex was infrequent but exciting and daring. The era we were living in was the heart of the sexual revolution. In spite of the sense of freedom, few of our peers bragged about their exploits. Neither did we, but we loved the possibilities and we took our share. We lived with our parents, products of a different generation with different cultural and moral standards so we had to sneak around and take our opportunities when we could. We did sneak, we did take opportunities, we did take chances and only got caught once. Her mother was shocked and disappointed. She tried to keep us apart after that. Fortunately, she never told Bella's father. She tossed me out of Bella's bedroom and the house and she didn't talk to me again until after we were married.
It didn't stop us. Bella loved sex as much as I did. We just were more careful and spent more time at my house, in my car and in the park.
After the wedding, we told everyone we were going into the city for the night and then catch a plane in the morning for a four-day island honeymoon. Instead, we checked into the first motel we passed and screwed our brains, and everything else, out. We had sex eight times that night, a record we've only matched once and will never be broken. The last time I was perpendicular to her with her legs over my hips, my arms around her thighs and my cock inside her pussy as I pushed tightly against her ass. We fell asleep that way. When I woke in the morning I was limp but still inside her, another record.
For three years we went to sleep with sex, woke up with sex, said hello and goodbye with sex. We had sex appetizers and sex desserts before and after sex dinners. We had sex in every room of our apartment and then in every room of our first house, including the garage. When we went out, Bella wore no panties and I wore no underwear. If an opportunity arose, we wanted no impediment to taking it. We took our opportunities in a movie theater, a lady's room at a local pub, on a picnic table in a park after dark and other venues too many to recount or remember.
We began to miss opportunities after Robert was born. He was planned and we went to lengths to insure a proper start. I saved myself for two very long days. I made a deposit with Bella on her back and her backside up on a pillow to minimize leakage and she slept that night with a second pillow under her ass to insure the angle of descent was inward and not outward. Robert was our reward and the start of our sexual slide.
I don't blame him. He did nothing intentional. Even though Bella wasn't working, caring for Robert took its toll. For months, he rarely slept more than three or four hours. He had to be fed frequently and changed twice as often. It wore Bella out. She was always tired. I offered to help. I wanted to give the nighttime feedings and I changed Robert whenever I could. I even tried to cook the evening meals. Bella objected. She was the stay at home mom. Those were her responsibilities. I was the working dad. Providing for the family and keeping the house in working order was my responsibility. Archaic gender roles. Blame her parents.
Bella's fatigue affected our sexual activity. Some evenings she was just too tired. I would kiss and fondle her and she would fall asleep. She fell asleep smiling but she was still asleep. I respected her too much to take advantage of her while she slept. Sometimes she'd make it up to me in the morning, before work and before Robert woke up. Sometimes she wouldn't.
It sounds worse than it was. We were still getting it on eight or nine times a week, mostly on weekends when we had more time together while Robert took his daily nap. Robert walked early and his activity level increased while our sexual activity decreased. By the time he left for kindergarten, we were down to four or five times a week and they were more rushed. We didn't know if or when we might be interrupted so we hurried things along. It worked somewhat for me but I think Bella was frustrated with speed sex.
Neither of us objected, at least not audibly. Every change seemed normal; just the way is was in the moment. We were barely aware of the slide. We were busy, happy and content, at least on the surface. Whenever I got the courage to talk to Bella about increasing our sexual activity, she usually responded by asserting that we were getting older and decreasing sexual urges were normal as we aged.
In our thirties, Bella contracted a yeast infection that caused her significant discomfort. When it happened a second time, she insisted it was related to oral sex and she preferred I wouldn't use my tongue on her pussy to avoid yeast infections in the future. I understood and respected her decision although I felt there must be some other solution. However, I didn't understand or agree with her not continuing to provide me with oral stimulation. After all, I didn't suffer from yeast infections but blowjobs somehow became as scarce as pussy licking. I suffered alone for a while until I managed the balls to ask her about it. Her response was as mysterious as her decision. She told me she didn't give me blowjobs to help me. She didn't want to cause me undue stress since I couldn't return the favor.
I missed the oral contact but we were still having intercourse three or four times a week and still in a half dozen positions, all of which I enjoyed. Most of that declined as we got older. Bella's knees hurt if she remained on them too long, so entering her from behind slipped away as did any position that required her to be on her knees while on top. Other positions became history because we weren't in good shape and the positions challenged our muscle strength. She blamed it all on getting older.
By the time our third child was leaving for college, we were having sex on Saturdays, holidays, birthdays, anniversaries and other special events such as attending a wedding or, once, a funeral.
By the time the first grandchild arrived, there was no sex at all in our relationship. At most, I would fondle her breasts or hold one while spooning behind her with an arm over her body in bed. I tried to discuss it with her but she steadfastly insisted it was normal for sex drive to decline and vanish, as we got older. After all, sex was a reproductive imperative when were younger but, now, she was years past menopause and could no longer conceive. Later, her vaginal secretions declined to the point that sex was actually painful. She insisted that sex was unnecessary and therefore evolutionarily programmed to decline with age.
I let her believe I understood her logic but, internally, I didn't buy it. Her arguments about aging had some truth to them. I was getting older. My muscles would tire and cramp if kept in positions too long that I used to manage easily. However, the evolutionary decline theory was donkey dust. My sex urges continued unabated. However, I watched with horror as my penis responded to the use it lose it imperative. Masturbation did not solve the problem.
I loved Bella and respected her and our wedding vows. I have enormous respect for Bella and wouldn't violate her trust or body. I've never pushed back on her assertions and I never considered seeking sexual release elsewhere. However, the sexual pressure was always present and I adapted to living with it unrelieved except through a personal relation with my right hand, usually in the shower. I thought about sex several times a day, sometimes all day. I fantasized about sex frequently. I was never physically impaired during these fantasies and, no matter what the physical attributes of the woman I imagined at the start of the fantasy, it was always Bella who was with me at the end.
I sought relief beyond personal fantasies. I looked for pornography on the internet. It quickly got old and lost its impact. I found and read erotic literature without lasting effect. There were some positive impacts on the detail I imagined in my fantasies. Finally, I endured the ultimate horror of every man; I watched as my penis succumbed to erectile dysfunction -- the dreaded ED.
Don't get me wrong. I loved Bella when we met and I still love her all these years later. Most of our sexual life appears to be over but we still touch each other, a lot. We kiss frequently. We hold hands whenever we're together. We sit next to each other and touch each other's thighs and, on occasion, I get to fondle or hold her breasts. It's just I'd like more touching. If we can't, or won't lick, suck or screw, then I'd at least like to run my fingers through her pubic hair and play gently with what I find there and I'd like her to touch me more intimately even if I can't respond the way I did when I was younger.
Meanwhile, we grow older, ignoring or unable to discuss, the elephant in the room.
Bella's Story
I love my Luther. I can't overstate the depth of my love for him. He's been the perfect husband, father, confidant and lover. He's been all that, and more, for all of the forty-eight years of our marriage with the possible exception of lover. Actually, that's not exactly accurate. I'm sure he loves me as much as he always has. What have changed are the physical aspects of our love. Over the years, the frequency of our sexual relations has declined remarkably until today it's nonexistent.
I understand the impetus of the change. Initially it declined due to our busy schedules and the physical demands of raising three children, working long hours and taking care of the household. We began to rush things a little to avoid inevitable interruptions. It usually took me longer than Luther to reach a conclusion so I lost the moment when I lost all control. I missed seeing stars and fireworks.
It continued to decline as we aged. We were physically unable to continue some activity and the drive to have sex ebbed as we passed the ability to have children.
I understand it completely. It's natural for the sex drive to decline with age. Evolutionarily, humans experience less desire to have sex as they age. Therefore, the frequency declines as well. Even when we had sex, I didn't have orgasms. Losing orgasms is just another way for nature to tell you that the time for sex was past. I'm comfortable with the changes and, fortunately, Luther is as well.
Occasionally, he mentions how much he misses sex, but he's not demanding anything from me. I might be open to an occasional sexual encounter, with the help of available lubricants, but he doesn't ask and I'm not driven to have sex, so I don't initiate it. We still hug and kiss regularly. He touches me and I touch him. We hold hands while walking together or driving in the car.
Some other women I know, complain how their husbands demand they provide sexual relief through hand jobs, blowjobs or even intercourse and how they feel abused and degraded. They're living out their remaining years in relationships that don't satisfy them but are better than living alone as they face the future. I'm the luckiest gal in the world to be married to such a loving and understanding man such as Luther.
Luther -- The Rest of the Story
We've been living with the unspoken tension in our relationship for many years. I'm sure I felt it more than Bella. Then, one Saturday morning, something changed. Bella's seventieth birthday was fast approaching so her best friend, Iris, offered to take her out for a lady's night on the town with a couple of other women. Bella wasn't sure what that meant and she initially was reluctant to go. We discussed it and I convinced Bella to accept the invitation in the spirit in which it was offered. Iris might have been thin on the details but she'd known Bella for thirty years. I was sure she wouldn't put Bella into any embarrassing or compromising positions. All of the women were over sixty. How much trouble could they get into?
Friday night, Bella, Iris and two other women went out for dinner and other things together. Bella got home after I had gone to bed and slipped in next to me without waking me. In the morning, Bella was unusually quiet, surprisingly energetic and smiling a lot. For the first time in years, she woke me with a slow stroking of my aging penis. Even though I couldn't get an erection, the touching was as pleasant as it was unexpected. After about ten minutes, she kissed me with intent and went to take a shower.
At breakfast, she was all spry and smiling. She prepared an outstanding breakfast and we ate together in the sunroom off the kitchen. I loved this Bella. I suspected her buoyancy was related to her time with the ladies the night before but I was reluctant to ask pointed questions since I didn't want to spoil her mood. Finally, I said, "Sorry I was asleep when you got home last night. Did you have fun?"
"Oh, Luther, I had a wonderful time."
"Do you want to tell me about it?"
"I want to share everything that happened with you. I know you'll understand."
The way she said it would have disturbed any husband. The nature of our relationship prevented me from responding with alarm but I was on alert as she continued.
"Iris took us to a really nice restaurant. Avoli Osteria, downtown. You know it. The food was out of this world and Iris wouldn't let any of us split the bill. After dinner, Iris drove us to a club on the edge of town. I didn't know it before we went inside but it was a strip club."
"A strip club," I remarked. "Why would Iris take you someplace where women took off their clothes for a room full of horny men?"
