This one's a little bit different for me. It just spirals down the rabbit hole and gets stranger as you go. Some of you will hate the ending. It's much shorter than last weeks's story too. Before we get into it, I wanted to says thanks to all of you who wrote to me about last week's story "Saving Savannah" and of course as usual I need to thank Mikothebaby for her relentless pursuit of editing perfection. For those of you who don't think having a good editor makes a difference, go back and look at some of my stories before I worked with her. Last week's story was 64 pages long typed out, but there were no complaints at all about editing mistakes, only about my hair-brained story. SS06
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SEX, SEX, SEX! It's so strange that most of the problems in my marriage all revolved around something that we spend so little of our lives doing. According to recent studies, the average man or woman who lives to the ripe old age of seventy, spends approximately six months of that lifetime having sex. As much as we wish it was more, that's all the time we spend on sex. The average man spends a whopping total of three and a half years going to the bathroom, 18 months doing household chores, three years driving and ten years watching TV, but only six months having sex.
Try as I might, I found no statistics on the numbers of marriages that end over bathroom habits, household chores, or watching TV. But we all know the staggering number of unions that have dissolved or nearly dissolved over sexual incompatibility.
Mine was one of those. But don't feel sorry for me, my life is better and richer for it. My name is Stephen Turner. I'm five foot ten. I have sandy brown hair and green eyes. I'm average in most categories, although I like to think of myself as more logical and a bit smarter than average.
Perhaps what I've always thought of as my greatest strength though, is actually a weakness. My weakness for what seems to be logical allowed me to be manipulated into a situation that I'd have otherwise hated. And over time, I still came to hate it anyway.
How do I put this? My wife Serena and I were swingers. Okay, about now half of you are saying yeah! And the rest of you are saying ugh! The half saying yeah, are imagining me out there on a regular basis screwing lots of available attractive women and enjoying myself immensely. The influx and turnover of some super elite swing club constantly bringing me new partners. You'd imagine that this leads to a very rich and varied sex life and you'd be wrong. Kind of...
The others of you are imagining me having to also watch other men screwing my wife and doing so on a regular basis and how this in effect makes me some kind of cuckold and lead to the breakdown of our love for each other and the end of the marriage. And you'd be wrong too. Kind of...
I really believe that the main reason for the problems I had with Serena was just that we grew apart. People change over time, and we just got to the place where Serena and I couldn't reach each other anymore. As you listen to my story, I'm sure you'll see that I'm telling the truth.
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Serena
Stephen, though I love him totally, is full of shit. Our marriage should never have even been in jeopardy. And if I have my way, I'm going to get all of his love back. The reason for our marriage problems didn't have anything to do with sex. It was all about two things. The first thing that broke us up is that men have poor communication skills. Instead of Stephen being honest with me about the situation from the very beginning, he chose to hold his feelings in. Am I supposed to be some kind of mind reader? And the second thing that broke us up is that Stephen was seduced by that awful whore into cheating on me. That awful woman stole my husband right out from under my nose and in a way the bitch paid for it. As you listen to the true story, I'm sure you'll see it my way.
Since I'm the one who's talking right now, I may as well start things out. Both Steve and I are the products of broken marriages. My dad and mom, as was the norm during their younger days, married in their twenties. I guess dad started cheating on mom early on. His job caused him to travel frequently and dad was a pussy hound to begin with. My dad was a salesman. His company manufactured and sold ladies underwear. It was his job to go out and sell their products to stores and large chains of stores.
Dad was an expert on panties and I guess he had some kind of lingerie fetish as well. I remember him telling mom on lots of occasions that panties weren't necessarily the greatest thing on earth, but they were next to it. He'd always laugh after that, though mom didn't. It took me years to realize what he meant.
Anyway, those long trips on the road eventually led to Dad's cheating, whether it was out of loneliness or just the inability to control his lust. Mom put up with it for years until she just couldn't take it anymore. She stood by him until I left for college. I think she did that out of wanting me to have a secure and stable home life more than anything else. The funny part about it is that dad had quit cheating years before she filed for the divorce. He was devastated when she left him and whether or not he deserved it, I only remember that my dad's last few years of life were miserable ones.
Mom didn't fare much better. She remarried a few years after she broke up with dad. My step father was a really nice man. He was older than mom and had been a widower when they met. I guess I expected the two of them to settle down and have a nice life together. Though my heart ached for my dad, a little part of me was glad my mom could find happiness. It didn't last for very long though, because before two years had even passed there were problems in her new marriage. This time my mom was at fault. She'd married a man that she thought she loved, but the problem was that he, being much older, didn't have the need or capacity for sex that my mom needed.
My dad had always been a randy old bastard and that was the problem. Once mom reached her late thirties and hit her sexual peak, her new husband just couldn't keep up with her. And mom also wanted some kind of revenge for the way that dad had cheated on her. Only she was getting her revenge on a man who had nothing to do with it. I felt really bad for him, because as I said, he was a really nice man. Mom engaged in a series of trysts and was caught several times before he just gave her some money and asked her to leave.