I'd like to thank Matt Moreau for his feedback and help in editing this story.
If you're looking for a story with a lot a graphic sex and one which the husband kicks his wife to the curb, move on to the next one.
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My wife has either got to be the most loving and caring wife in the world or the stupidest mother-fucking slut that ever walked the face of the earth. Quite a difference between the two isn't there. I've just had it out with her and now she's upstairs crying her eyes out in what use to be our bedroom. Even though I'm leaning towards forgiving her, there's going to be a few changes around here if I do, because of what she did. Maybe if I told you what happened last Thursday you'll understand my predicament.
My name is Jim, and my wife's name is Carol. Our three kids are grown and we're now empty nesters, and loving every minute of it. I still go to work every day but Carol took an early retirement two years ago, and now does whatever suits her fancy, be it going to the gym, shopping or her dance lessons.
That brings me to my, let me rephrase that, our problem, our sex life; or lack of it. The way I look at sex is, if my heart is beating I'm ready for it 24/7 if given the opportunity. However, my wife just went through menopause and now has the sex drive of a dead rock. Her idea of frequency is once every two weeks while mine is once a day, twice a day if I get up early enough; see our dilemma?
We decided to compromise. We would make love once during the week and once on the weekend to start. I didn't like it, but it was more than I was currently getting so I agreed. That lasted two weeks, and then we were back to the same old once a week routine again.
I ranted; raved and threatened to take a lover and all she said was, "yes dear", shit I was fucked, she knew I wouldn't cheat on her. So to get rid of my frustrations, I wrote stories; you know, sex stories. After two and a half years I covered all the topics; three somes, anal, gang bangs, interracial, cuckold husbands, slut wife's, blow jobs, cream pies, masturbation, cheating husbands, you name it, I wrote about it.
They were fantasies of what I was thinking about at that time. I see a sexy girl give me a second look; I write about picking up some whore and doing all these nasty things to her. Some guy asks my wife to dance, I write about her cheating on me or us having a three with him, see what I mean? Well that's what started this whole fucking problem.
You see, I do most of my writing at work during my lunch break. My wife is a real prude or should I say straight laced when it comes to sex and especially porn, so I made sure she knew nothing of what I was doing. Sometimes however, if I've had nothing doing at night and was she's tied up, I do some of my writing in the evening in our den.
I had just finished a story, "58 going on 16", and was doing my final editing on it. The story centers around a man who loves his wife but is getting no sex at home, sound familiar? He gets tired of the pity sex his wife is giving him and goes out and finds three lovers. He no longer bugs his wife for sex because he's now getting all he can handle on the side. At the end of the story he ponders dumping his wife. He still loves her but is starting to have deep feelings for one of his "friends with benefits." I leave it open ended with the final words; "what would you do if you were in my shoes?"
I had just submitted the story to the Dark Wanderer and Lit erotica when Carol walked into the room. I shut my laptop and smiled at her thinking, "damm that was close."
"You coming to bed anytime soon?" she asks with that smile that tells me I'm going to get lucky tonight if I act fast.
"Lead on my love" I replied grabbing her hand and almost running up the stairs to our room. I'd love to tell you we had hot steamy sex with her screaming for me to "fuck me harder", but that's not how it goes in my house. Hell, my wife's idea of kinky sex is straight vanilla sex with the lights on.
This is how our lovemaking plays out. Carol waits for me to take off her t-shirt and pj bottoms; I'm already nude by now. We kiss for about ten minutes, with me leading the way. She caresses my dick like it's something she feels obligated to do while just lying back enjoying what I'm doing to her.
I play with her tits for about five minutes, almost to the second, before going down on her pussy to give it a real tongue-lashing; she loves me giving her oral sex. Carol has a small hidden clit and it takes me usually from five to ten minutes to get her off the first time, I don't care because I'm an oral type of guy.
I lick her whole pussy, suck on her now erect clit and even ream her ass with my tongue. Carol will never admit it, but moans more when I ream her ass than she does when I eat her pussy. I now either climb between her legs in the missionary style or get her from the side, almost like a modified spooning; and we go at it. I massage her clit while I pound her pussy waiting for her to get off again.
I keep this up until I drop my loads into her cunt and before she starts complaining about me lying on her legs or that they're cramping from being wrapped around my waist too long. I then roll over on my side and reach for her. She on the other hand is up in a flash, running to the bathroom to get cleaned up.
Carol comes back to the bed and I immediately ask her if she's ready for round two. "You're so cute", she says kissing me on the forehead before picking up her book from the nightstand.
"At least give me a kiss goodnight," I say as Carol gives me a quick peck and begins reading her book. Sound familiar, I hope fucking not, or you're in the same boat I'm in. I sometimes talk her into letting me do her from behind but those times are few and far in between and I can't even remember the last time I had a blowjob. So now you know why I write these stories as an outlet for my sexual frustration. I use to say I'd never cheat on Carol, but now I'm not so sure if the situation presented itself.
Well, we both went to sleep, well I did any way, and I never realized that I'd left my e-mails to where I'd submitted the stories to still up on my computer. Carol went downstairs, got a glass of ice water from the refrig and walked around the house as she drank it. When she entered the den she noticed my computer still on. She flipped up the screen on my laptop and started looking at what I'd been doing.
"Dark Wanderer and Lit erotica?" She said to herself, "what the hell are they and what is Jim sending to them?" she said as she clicked on the websites.
I would like to have been a mouse in the corner when they came up, just to see the look on her face. She found my handle in the e-mail and clicked on all the stories I'd submitted, all fifty-nine of them.
She brought up a couple of my oldest ones and read two of them. He eyes about popped out of her head. "These can't be my Jim's", she said to herself; "he would never even think those kind of thoughts," she thought trying to reassure her. But there they were in all their glory and Carol was confused at best.
She wrote down the two websites, closed the screen on the computer and slowly headed back upstairs. She paused a minute before climbing back into bed looking at her sleeping husband. Carol shook her head, climbed in bed next to her husband and then tossed and turned for the rest of the night.
Carol was up having coffee when Jim came down the stairs. "You're up early, what's the occasion?" he asked.
"I have a few things I need to look into today and I want to get an early start" she replied.
"Anything I can help you with?" Jim asked as he finished his coffee.
"No, this is something I need to check out for myself" she said looking at Jim now in whole new light.
"Well if you change your mind let me know," I said giving her a peck and heading out the kitchen door to his car.
Carol waited for Jim to get out the driveway and down the block before she raced over to her computer. She pulled up Lit erotica, looked under authors, clicked on Jim's handle and watched all fifty plus stories appear before her eyes.
All she could say is, "oh my god, as she started looking at just the titles." "There had to be some mistake, these couldn't all be Jim's", she thought to herself; but they were and she stared to read them; starting with the oldest first.
After two hours she stopped, her eyes were getting sore from concentrating on every word as each story developed. The story lines were good, but there was so much graphic sex, she'd never read stories like that before. "Is this what Jim really wants, and from his wife?" she wondered.
After lunch she went back to computer and read four more. At one point, during one of the more graphic love sections, she'd put her hand between her legs and found herself wet, "holy shit, these stories are turning me on," she said to herself with almost a disgust. She remembered her mom telling her that good girls didn't think about things like that, only sluts did.
By 4:00 she'd taken a cold shower, to cool herself down, and was forcing herself to think about what she'd be making for dinner. As she was preparing the salad all she could think about was those stories. "I don't even know my husband anymore", she thought to herself, "I thought we had a pretty good sex life; I guess I'm the only one who thought that."
Dinner was quieter than usual, when Jim asked Carol how her day went and if she needed help on her project.
"I'm not finished, and I think it's going to take me longer than I thought" she told him.
"Well my offer still stands if you want my help" I replied.
"No thanks hon, I think I'll do this myself because I'm learning a lot as I dig deeper into it."
They both went to bed around 10:00 and for some reason Carol wanted to cuddle instead of reading tonight. With Carol in his arms they both fell asleep and stayed that way until the following morning.
"Damm my arm is sore", Jim, said as he eased it out from under Carol. She'd slept the entire night with my arm under her and now there was hell to pay as I rubbed it to get the blood flowing through it again We hadn't slept that way in years and it was kind of nice for a change. I showered, shaved and was out the door before Carol stirred.
It was almost 9:00 before Carol dragged her ass out of bed. She sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee thinking about what she'd seen yesterday. Cup in hand she strolled over to her computer, fired it up and spent the next four hours reading Jim's stories. This is the way she spent the next two days.
It was Friday midday when Carol read Jim's last story; 58 going on 16. She could almost feel his frustration as she read the story. "He has all these cravings and wants going unsatisfied and here I am, shutting him down at every turn", she said with almost a tear in her eye. "I wonder why in all these years he never just came out and demanded a better sex life", and then remembered he had already, more than once. Then she got scared, "I wonder if he's cheating on me or is thinking about it?"
That night Carol made Jim his favorite dinner and even chilled a bottle of wine. She was dressed nicer than usual and greeted him at the door with a big kiss.
"All right, what'd you buy today?" I said looking at the table.
