I am Jennifer Lahey, now 30 years old. I teach literature at a small private college. This is the improbable story of how my marriage with my husband reached a crisis stage and how that was resolved.
My husband Edward and I came from the same small Midwestern town. We started to date at the start of our senior year in high school. Edward was very attractive physically and a very popular student but we had never seemed to click. He was deeply interested in sports at the point and I had little interest. I was a bit shy and took academics more seriously than he did. Then, all of a sudden, he asked me to go to a dance with him and I accepted. For whatever reasons it seemed like the right thing to do.
I had kissed boys before Edward; none of them had generated an eager response on my part. I came to be regarded by boys as too prim and proper and perhaps not worth much effort. Now, for the first time with Edward, kisses were passionate and I desperately wanted them to continue. After only a few times out together I began to allow Edward's hands to cover my breasts, at first only outside my sweaters, and then soon under my bra to tease my nipples. Then a few dates later I let his hand touch the insides of my thighs for the first time, then to stroke my pussy through my panties and then inside them. It seemed that every time we could be alone together Edward was able to give me a wonderful orgasm in this way. This was new for me and I craved it. A few times, to excite and reward him, I dared to leave my panties off altogether when we went out, once to a dance where I also danced with other boys. That did excite Edward--a lot. One night I recall vividly he fingered me to a quick orgasm with his right hand as he drove us through the town park on a dark night.
For my part I let Edward move my hand so I would feel his hard cock through his slacks. For awhile I was not ready to go further. Then one night, at a party in a friends's house, Edward and I found a spare bedroom, locked the door, and began to touch one another freely. He removed my panties and brought me off very quickly. Then I heard him unzip his pants and he moved my hand to wrap it around his dick. There was a small table lamp on in the corner and, for the first time, I could see what his penis looked like. I watched intently as I moved my hand up and down slowly and softly until I heard him say, "faster, Jennifer." I did. I liked knowing I could make him feel good and his breathing told me he was becoming more and more excited. I realized he was losing control, so I prepared for what I had heard friends talk about. Edward gasped, "I'm going to come, Jennifer!" I quickly lowered my mouth onto his cock as he shot his sperm. At first I gagged and then I struggled several times to swallow before I felt I could lift my head and look into his eyes. I was so proud and I knew I was smiling, probably blushing too. I have never heard anyone sound so grateful for something I had done. I knew I had given Edward the perfect gift.
All in all that was a wonderful senior year. We both turned eighteen during the first semester and felt we were real adults. We began to "go all the way" shortly before graduation and, like most kids our age, our desire quotient was very high and our bodies were fully capable of responding, frequently. Sex was exciting and almost always rewarding. What was there to complain about?
Of course I had recognized for several years in high school and then I did even more in college that boys found me attractive from a sexual perspective. I saw the way they looked at me, noticed them commenting to one another as I walked by. I wanted to believe that they thought I was a nice person and beautiful as well as sexy. But everyone who knew me assumed Edward and I were a committed pair and so again boys did not waste their time pursuing me. Now I wish I had dated more boys in high school and in college, had experienced more with them, that more of them had turned me on.
After graduation, Edward and I began our freshman year at the state university about forty miles away. No one in either of our families had gone to college. Edward chose business school where he majored in personal finance. From the first he knew he wanted to become a financial advisor for people, like our own families, who lacked the knowledge and experience to act in their own best financial interest. At university, I majored in literature with a minor in art history. We both became much busier during college. We worked hard in our classes. we both carried partial scholarships from the university contingent on us maintain a high grad point average. We both worked student jobs to help cover our expenses.
In college, where fewer boys knew I was with Edward, more boys asked me for dates. Again I often could feel their stares as I walked on campus or in the town. Largely ignoring the interest from other men I treated my commitment to Edward almost like a religious vocation. Despite our schedules we found time and places to be together to satisfy our sexual needs and confirm our love and respect for one another. We fully expected our friendship and our sexual satisfaction would continue unabated for all the years to come. They did for the first five or six years of our marriage.
We married, both of us 22, a month after graduation and rented an apartment near the university. Edward went to work for a small financial planning firm. I wanted ultimately to teach at the college level so I immediately began work on a Master's degree hoping to continue for a Ph.D. While I worked on my degrees I also worked part time as a tutor for the athletic department, helping both young men and women remain eligible for their sport and their scholarship.
Edward helped support my graduate work through the four long years it took for me to complete my course work, write a dissertation, and receive my doctorate in American and British Literature. After three years of good experience at the financial planning company he started his own firm and was soon doing quite well. He was competent, friendly and a straight shooter who put his clients welfare first.
I found a first teaching position as an assistant professor in a small liberal arts college in a town twenty-five miles north of the where we lived. I became a popular teacher and I began work on a first book drawing heavily on the research I did for my dissertation. Although we were both very busy with our careers we bought an older fixer upper near the university in a neighborhood where many faculty members lived. Gradually, over several years, we transformed that house into a very elegant place with tasteful furnishings and art to my own taste. A landscape designer helped us with the final stage. I was very pleased with what we had done. Edward was not very interested in quality design or stylish furniture or the art on the walls though he appreciated the higher value that came with the changes.
After six years of marriage we were proud of what we had accomplished professionally and personally. Now we could afford to give parties, eat out, have nice clothes, travel, and more. We were successful beyond our expectations. Only one aspect of our lives was becoming less than fully satisfying.
Gradually, very gradually, worrisome issues began to arise that negatively impacted our sexual relationship--and then extended beyond that. For one thing, while we said we wanted to expand our still limited circle of close friends, we discovered that our different tastes in people became much more obvious. Not surprisingly I enjoyed most of all my colleagues in the college where I taught and other academics I had met in the university. These were people interested in literature, art, and history in particular; by and large they were people who kept current on cultural, social and political issues and trends. Also not surprisingly, Edward's friendships mostly grew from his growing business relationships and with local people primarily engaged with local issues. Predictably perhaps, my favorite people and Edward's preferred crowd often did not mix comfortably and so we gradually had fewer parties than we had expected and we likewise had very different levels of enthusiasm in responding to invitations from others. Sometimes, and increasingly, we went our separate ways in our socializing.
Edward was very busy, often preoccupied with his business. For whatever reasons, he became more demanding and less patient with me at home. He expected more wifely attention to our house, our meals, what he regarded as my household responsibilities. We did not agree on this. I wanted us to hire house and lawn care services, to eat out more or to bring home prepared meals, to hire staff to help when we did choose to give a party, to travel more beyond the midwest. If we managed our incomes carefully we could afford all of these. Much of what I thought of as essentials Edward considered unnecessary, luxuries even.
During the several years after I began to teach, I made a number of new close friends at my college and in the university whose interests meshed with my own. I enjoyed my social and intellectual life with them and felt that I was becoming more my own person, not always as one part of a couple, and not the junior partner. My friends usually were the guests I wanted to invite to my house and it was their invitations that I wanted to accept. Edward often felt left out in these situations. His local friends and my academic friends did not mix well--even though many of his clients were in fact academics.
Along with this increasing separateness in our social and intellection interests our sex life had become stale and, for me, increasingly uncomfortable. Edward expected me always to be ready for sex when he wanted it and he became more demanding and directive in the kind of sex he wanted from me, perhaps needing proof that he was in control. He was less generous than before in responding to my needs, so my expectation for satisfaction rapidly decreased. My response, the only one I could think of then, was to show less interest in sex. While I needed sex much more than I admitted to him, I knew Edward began to feel it was sex with him that I was not interested in. This began to make him jealous and suspicious because he thought my lack of interest in sex at home might indicate that my sexual interests were in other directions, in some other particular man or men. This was not the case then, but I could see that Edward might become paranoid at my lack of responsiveness to what seemed to me his insensitive demands.