Blind Deaf & Dumb for Erections

No longer able to get it up, a man tires of watching his wife with other men while masturbating.

Spending more of his hard earned money to buy another whole new outfit that she'd wear only for a few minutes to have sex with another man was always a sore point with him. If it wasn't enough with her buying a new outfit, it was her disappearing for hours on a shopping spree. He always wondered who she was with and what she was doing.

She had plenty of other clothes to wear. She had clothes she never even wore hanging there in her closets with the tags still on them. As if to celebrate the occasion and as if her having sex with another man wasn't painful enough for him, as if rubbing it in his face with a new outfit just for some other guy, she had to buy new clothes and shoes too.

An endless money pit, always buying something new and expensive instead of wearing something that she already had in her expansive closet, she spent his money as if he had inexhaustible supply of cash just to spend on her. And the sucker that he is, in the way that he allowed her to spend so much of his money, she did seemingly have an inexhaustible supply of money. Money, money, money, it was all about sex and money when living with her.

Every month he paid her five figure credit cards, Visa, Master Card, and American Express. He paid more in monthly charge card totals than some people earn in a year. How can anyone spend so much money in just one month? Then, when multiplying those numbers by twelve, she was charging six figures for clothes, shoes, golf and tennis lessons, massages at the spa, hair and makeup at the salon, gas for her car, and going out to lunch with the girls. An endless list of charges, pages of expenditures, the expense to maintain her and to keep her happy never ended.

When it takes him ten minutes to look presentable, his wife spent the last two hours getting herself ready. Two hours just to get ready for sweaty, messy, and mussed up sex. She spent two hours of her life just to be stripped naked and fucked. Between all of the beauty sleep that she requires, the two hours that it takes her to get ready, and the hours of shopping that she must do before readying herself for another man to fuck her, that's half the day that he doesn't see her at all. Then, when he does see her, she never looks the way she does now and for him as she does when getting ready for another man.

"How do I look?"

Instead of telling her that she looks beautiful again, just once, he'd love to tell her that she looks like a whore, a cunt, and the frigging bitch that she is.

"You look beautiful Natalie," said Jim kissing her on the cheek when she turned her head.

"Sorry. I don't want to ruin my lipstick," she said with a plastic smile.

Doing her hair and her makeup and picking out which new clothes to wear for her only to be stripped naked, obviously she was enjoying their open marriage more than he was. Looking so stunningly gorgeous and so crotch grabbing sexy, he forgot how much money she spent to look so naturally beautiful. Acting so coyly innocent, not for him but for someone else, she now looked how he remembered she looked when they first dated. She was such a raving beauty and still is thanks to him bankrolling her hair, makeup, skin crèmes, massages, perfumes, and wardrobe. If only he knew what he was getting into then, he never would have asked her to marry him.

* * * * *

With his wife naked and on the bed, Jim slowly masturbated while watching his wife having sex with his best friend Mike. All sworn to the same secrecy that Mike had sworn to, it was his neighbor Jerry having sex with his wife last week and, the week before, it was his employee, Larry, having sex with his wife. With her now having regular sex with Mike, Jerry, and Larry, seemingly just as there was an inexhaustible supply of money for her to spend for her to get herself ready to have sex with other men, there was an inexhaustible supply of men for her to suck and fuck. Sometimes at the spur of the moment or at the most inconvenient and unplanned time, when he just wanted to come home and relax, always there was another man in his bedroom doing to his wife what he should be doing to his wife.

"For better or for worse, 'til death do you part," he remembered taking his vows. Only, if he had to spend the rest of his miserable life watching his wife sucking and fucking other men while he feebly tried to masturbate, he'd rather be dead. A great existence for her to have her sexual fun with no consequences while spending all of his money, this was no kind of life for him. Walking around sexually frustrated before when he first couldn't get it up, now he was just frustrated with her, with himself, with everything, and with everyone, including his so called friends who routinely fucked his wife.

As if sitting on a dock at the edge of a bay, he could sense his wife slipping away. As if she was sleeping naked in a rowboat, he sat there while watching the current take her away. Always cherishing her and cherishing the love that he had for her, never wanting her to slip away before, all for the best now, he was ready for her to go.

'Bye Natalie. Bye. Have a safe trip,' he imagined himself saying to her.

He thought of Paul Simon's song, Slip Sliding Away. "Slip sliding away, slip sliding away. You know the nearer your destination, the more you slip sliding away. Whoa and I know a man, he came from my hometown. He wore his passion for his woman like a thorny crown. He said Dolores, I live in fear. My love for you is so overpowering, I'm afraid that I will disappear."

In love with her, overwhelmed by her, swallowed up whole by her, as soon as he accepted Natalie in his life, he no longer existed. Her bitch, he no longer had a life. Everything was all about her. If only he had the courage to leave her but forever in her power, he should have slipped, slid away long ago. All that he has to do to change his mind of leaving her is just to look at her face, her body, and to gaze in her big, blue eyes.

Now when he looked at her, he couldn't help himself from thinking of the Eagle's old song, Witchy Woman. "Raven hair and ruby lips, sparks fly from her fingertips. Echoed voices in the night, she's a restless spirit on an endless flight. Woo hoo witchy woman, see how high she flies. Woo hoo witchy woman, she got the moon in her eye." When he looked at her, in that instant, he knew she was gone.

Already sick and tired of her, why he was still with her was a mystery to him. No longer looking at him with love and in the way she used to look at him, she no longer laughs at his stupid jokes. She barely talks to him. Talking more to her neighbors and to her friends, spending hours on the phone talking to her mother or her sister about God knows what, she clams up whenever he walks in the room. Obvious now with nothing in common that he thought they had in common before, instead of talking to him, she reads book after book. At least hoping she'd talk to him about what she's reading or just read, she doesn't even talk to him about that. Who reads a book and doesn't share what she just read?

* * * * *

The odd thing is that even when he was able to get an erection, he was lucky to have sex with Natalie once a month. Always too busy, too tired, too sleepy, or she had a headache, a backache, or an ass ache, she never availed herself to him in the way that she avails herself to others. For someone who took two hours to get ready, what was she getting ready for if not for him? She never took that amount of time to get ready for him in the way that she takes that amount of time to get ready for others.

Now here she is fucking and sucking men every week, sometimes even twice a week, and he's fool enough to sit there and watch her. As if two boats drifting further apart, with her sudden and seemingly insatiable sexual appetite and with his sex drive diminishing, her sex drive is increasing. Sometimes, instead of using their friends, neighbors, and co-workers for sex, they just go to a bar outside of the city to pick up a man to bring home for his wife to suck and fuck. It's all about her being satisfied, sexually and otherwise. It's all about her and never about him.

In the hot way that his wife looks, it was easy to find a man who'd want to have sex with her. Tall, blonde, busty, and beautiful, what man, old or young wouldn't want to do her? He still wants to have sex with her, if only he could. Now that she's free to have sex with other men, she's done them all. Older men, younger men, and black men. She enjoys having sex with black men the best.

"Black men are better lovers," she admitted to him over breakfast the next morning after sucking and fucking a big, black man. "Black men seem more appreciative to have sex with a white woman, especially a blonde with big tits and a tight ass," she said with an annoying little laugh.

Afraid to broach the subject with her before when he could have erections, knowing she never would, her comment made him wonder if she had anal sex with her black lover. He always wanted to stick his cock up her ass but knowing her and by the comments she made that anal sex was animalistic, she'd never want to have anal sex with him. Now she's insinuating that she had anal sex with a big black man last night. How dare she? If she's trying to make him jealous, she just did. If she trying to make him angry, she accomplished that too.

'Frigging whore. Fucking cunt,' he thought to himself. Something he'd never say to her face for fear that she'd hire a divorce attorney and strip him clean of as much money as she could, he thought to himself now.

How dare she? How could she be so insensitive to his wants and needs to give all that she gives to a stranger when she never sexually accommodated him in that way, even when he extravagantly supports her? And how could he have been so stupid not to take all that he wanted and needed to have from her. Now that he can't, he should have just used and abused her then in the way that she's using and abusing him now. She was his wife in his bed, he should have just flipped her over and pounded her tight, little ass with his big, hard cock in the way that he imagined her big, black boyfriend pounding her ass with his big, black cock.

Yet, even now, now that he could no longer be a virile man and now that he no longer wanted her in that way, no longer caring, instead of asking her the question that he wanted to ask of her about her having anal sex with a black man, he feigned his disinterest.

"You don't say," he said picking up the newspaper to read.

"Yes," she said looking at him while slowly eating a banana as if she was sucking a cock. She was teasing him. Knowing that he couldn't get an erection and knowing that he was sexual frustrated, he couldn't believe she was teasing him. God she's such a maniacal bitch. "Definitely black men have bigger cocks," she said with a mouthful of chewed banana that give him an image of her having a mouthful of her lover's cum.

Never thinking that he ever would and not thinking that he ever could, he was beginning to hate her. Maybe her cooking is the reason for his diabetes, not that she ever cooked. Definitely being that they ate out so much and ordered takeout when not eating out, no doubt, all of that rich, carb laden and sugar sweetened food attributed to his diabetes. Knowing he had a weakness for soda and didn't have the self-control to make the switch himself, he asked her to buy diet soda but she never did. It's as if she hoped to encourage his diabetes to worsen.

Maybe that blood pressure pill his doctor prescribed is the reason for his impotency, damn side effects. Being that they see the same doctor, maybe she's in cahoots with his doctor for him to keep his testosterone low and his cock soft. Maybe she puts impotency powder, saltpeter, in his food that was prescribed to her by his doctor. In the way that he thought crazy things, he was beginning to wonder if his impotency was affecting his mind. Definitely her having so much sex with others while spending his money was making him insane. Yet, even after trying testosterone supplements and Viagra, what worked before, no longer worked now and he wondered if there wasn't some truth to what he thought about her trying to purposely make him impotent by the foods he eats and the pills he takes.

"You make me wish I was a black man," he said with a sad, little laugh while wanting to add with a big, hard cock that I could stick up your tight, little ass, you cunt.

Even though he wanted to say that, he didn't dare say that but he figured that she knew it was there on his mind and on the tip of his tongue. Just as he suspected that she took it up the ass, she wasn't admitting that she took some strange, black man's cock up her ass.

"You a black man?" She laughed. "Don't be silly," she said with him thinking that she was about to pay him a compliment before crushing him. "Your cock is too small for you to be a black man," she said with her annoying, fucking laugh.

For the first time in his nearly fifteen years of marriage to her, he wanted to slap her across her face. Punching her in her stomach and kicking her in her cunt, he visualized beating the snot out of her before stripping her naked, turning her around, bending her over and fucking her hard up her ass hole.

'God, she's such a miserable bitch of a fucking asshole of a cunt,' he thought to himself.

Maybe if he treated her in the way she treated him, maybe if he acted more the man instead of the grateful husband to be married to someone who looks like her, he'd get an erection. Maybe he should have laid the law down with her long ago when she just had to have this instead of that, even when that always cost more than this. Selfish, self-centered, and spoiled, finally he was seeing her for who she was.

Instead of being so beautiful, she was ugly. What she was on the inside was finally revealing itself on the outside. Who she was inside distorted her face in a cartoonish image of what he never saw before until now. As if she was the witch in Snow White and the Huntsman, every time she opened her mouth to demand something more, she grew uglier.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"

* * * * *

It all started when he was no longer able to maintain an erection long enough and hard enough to penetrate her deep enough and long enough to sexually satisfy his wife. She didn't help the matter with her hurtful comments and by her calling him names, limp dick, squishy, and rubber man. Instead of satisfying her with his cock, putting aside his own sexual satisfaction for her sexual satisfaction, he satisfied her with his finger and with his tongue. Then, after a while, instead of being satisfied with that, wanting more, always wanting more, and whatever he gave her wasn't enough, she'd just roll over and go to sleep. Yet, just as he wasn't sleeping either, he knew that she wasn't sleeping. He knew that she was as sexually frustrated as he was.

Only, truth be known, with his impotency worsening, he wasn't sexually frustrated at all. After years of not being able to perform, summoning up the energy to have sex with her was just another bothersome nuisance, as if summoning up the energy to rake leaves or shovel snow. Now because of his impotency worsening, he no longer cared if he had sex with her ever again. If it wasn't for his wife holding up the mirror of his impotency to his face, he wouldn't even think about having sex with her or with anyone, even her hot mother and/or her sexy sister. Although, if only for comparison sake, just once, he'd love to see her mother and sister naked.

No longer wasting his precious time looking at dirty photos of naked women or reading dirty stories loaded with X-rated sexual content about having sex with mothers-in-law and sisters-in-law, with that part of his life as dead as his limp dick, he was free to do other things. Only, he didn't do anything else other than setting up sexual dates for his wife while thinking of, feeling bad, and feeling guilty about his impotency. Even though none of it was his fault, down deep where he didn't show how he felt, it bothered him that he was no longer a virile man. Wishing that his cock wasn't so limp, so small, and his testicles weren't shrinking, he spent his time wishing that he could give his wife hot sex. For all the times she's fucked him up his ass by spending his money and making him feel bad by the attention she gives her lovers, just once he'd love to fuck her up her ass too.

Wishing there was such a thing as a penis implant in the way that there were breast implants, he'd give anything to give his wife an orgasm with his cock again. No doubt there is something to give him an erection but he wouldn't want some urologist sticking a steel rod in his cock. As if he was a robot with a bionic cock, he wouldn't want to have a constant erection. Besides, even if he had a steel, artificially hardened cock, he wouldn't have that sexual feeling that goes along with having a natural erection. The electrical connection between his brain and his cock is forever severed.

* * * * *

Her having sex with other men was their alternative plan for her to satisfy her sexual needs. With Jim impotent from diabetes, he no longer had very much of a sex drive. Once something he'd do for the sake of keeping her sexually satisfied, he wasn't even interested in giving his wife oral sex. Even when she tried giving him oral sex, he couldn't get hard enough to cum. He always had to finish himself off while she watched. Then, after a while, he couldn't even masturbate himself to an orgasm, that is, without watching her sucking and fucking another man. Now, even when watching her with other men, sometimes he managed to cum, but recently he couldn't even do that. When not even being able to masturbate himself, feeling more like the name she called him, he felt more like rubber man. He felt like such a failure.

He could tell, from out of all her lovers, about a dozen different and new ones in the past two years that she liked Mike the best. She sucked his cock as if she was a cheap dance hall whore. With her arms in the air as if she was riding the mechanical bull at the bar and her tits bouncing up and down and side to side when fucking him, he hasn't seen Natalie fucking like that since their Honeymoon. Obviously Mike really enjoyed having sex with his wife too in the way that after pounding her pussy, he made love to her in the way that he used to do and the way that it pains his heart to watch someone else do that to his wife, the once love of his life.

"The arrangement was for him to fuck you and not to make love with you," he said to her later when he saw that dreamy look on her face that told him she was enjoying having sex with Mike more than she should.

He wished his wife didn't have to do this to him. He wished he didn't have to watch his wife having sex with other men. He wished his wife had refused his offer to have sex with other men. Yet, what was he supposed to do when he couldn't get and maintain an erection hard enough and long enough to part her pussy? He's tried Viagra. He's tried Andro-gel, a testosterone supplement. Both of those worked for a while years ago but not now that he's older, paying for the expensive prescriptions are just a waste of money. With nothing working for him now, he's given up rubbing crèmes on his shoulder and popping little blue pills.

His doctor told him that if he lost weight the diabetes would lessen, along with the side effects of impotency too. He's lost thirty pounds with exercise and dieting but now stuck at a plateau, he hasn't lost another pound in two years. Matter of fact, giving up trying to lose weight, he's gained a few pounds after agreeing to allow his wife to have sex with other men. The only thing that he could think of to keep his wife happy and for her not to leave him was to allow her to have sex with other men.