I can no longer say that remember it as if it were yesterday, it has been a few years now. So this is as best as I remember a time that our lives really changed. I thought everything was going pretty well in our new family. Two gorgeous children. OK, yes, a mother's eyes are always biased. In my eyes our daughters are perfect in every way. Growing. Exploring. Becoming ideal little humans. A father who was doting on our lovely girls. Working hard work every day, striving to succeed. He already had a Bachelor's degree with Honours, and ploughed through an MBA while working a day job. His Doctorate soon after that, in the same fashion. Again, all while working - and like nothing could deter him. I'm beyond proud of him. He was, is, smart and driven.
Coming home night after night and making sure we all had everything we needed. Helping with the dishes, the girls, being present, and disappearing to study only after making sure that we could want for nothing else that evening. Desire for nothing else. Well I wished for more time with him, having to wait until late at night for intimacy was a strain, but there was a clear shared goal. Set us up for a comfortable life. Eventually he reached a position where he was known globally in his industry. The trappings of his efforts gave us luxury and lifestyle that most could never understand. Such as what it is like to be able to buy a new Mercedes just because it had 360 degree cameras. Or buy an 80 inch TV and outdoor speakers so that our girls might watch the Disney channel while in the pool.
That was my world. Extreme feminists might say I was devoid. Trapped by the patriarchy, as they say. That I was missing something and I was lesser. Lesser as I didn't strive for the career, the socially blessed fulfilment. Lesser as I didn't strive to make my mark on the world. To be honest, I thought I had already made my mark. I have two fantastic young girls. It was July of 2013, that made my eldest 10, my youngest 5. And they were my everything. They were my mark on the world. My indelible etching on the silver plate that makes up ones life. Did it come at a cost? Sure, I had post-natal depression, many women do and not enough women realize it. Having children remodelled my body. A bit more weight here and there which wouldn't move, and my hips a bit wider after pregnancy. Neither eating "right" nor time on the treadmill would change it. My boobs were less perky but my cup size definitely went up to a D. Spending money on new bras and sports tops was the new trend. I didn't hate my mummy body, but I was still well aware that I probably wouldn't pull off the tight little black dress anymore. I grew to love my womanly curves. Many lucky ladies do eventually find that love for their post baby body for all that it represents. Being a mother.
On one cool late Friday evening my Husband, Terry, and I were relaxing in the pool. Our girls were asleep which gave us some rare time together. The pool was heated which made sure we stayed submerged to our necks. The only exception would be to reach out of the water for a sip of our drinks. Baileys for me. Whiskey for Terry. We never really drank to excess. Just to take that edge off.
No matter where he drifted in the pool I wasn't far away. I needed the occasional contact from him. It wasn't intentional, I just gravitated to the physical connection with the father of my babies. My husband. While I was brought up brought up as a good Catholic girl, I loved my man and didn't see it as a chore. Nor the mandated "role of a woman" as if it was something distasteful or for upon me. It was just who I was and because I wanted to be exactly that for Terry, for our daughters. This was my fulfilment.
Tonight my man seemed distracted. Seemed to drift away from me in the pool. Not physically but he seemed not to be present like normal. I felt I knew him better than anyone. His mind was elsewhere and I wanted him to refocus to the here and now. As soon as he was in arms reach due to my stealthy aquatic manoeuvres I snaked my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He kissed back, but his body didn't respond as it had normally. Usually he pulled me hard to him. Normally I would feel his hardness pressing into my yummy mummy tummy.
That evening his body didn't respond. I reached down and cupped his groin. Terry isn't the most well-endowed. Certainly smaller than all my boyfriends in college. But I didn't marry him for that. I married him because he was kind, considerate, respectful, protective, caring, and compassionate. The real qualities of a man. I suspect he knew he was below average in size. Don't all guys? Don't they all secretly measure themselves? I certainly noted and compared my cup size to my friends during puberty. I never pointed out that he was smaller. What's the point? He certainly still managed to give me two perfect baby girls! And as for intimacy he was unlike many almost every guy I had dated. Terry loved to give oral. I cupped his groin, there was no response. This was a sure tell that his mind was fixated elsewhere.
"What's up, baby?" I asked.
He looked into my eyes and sighed. He paused, just staring into my eyes. He pulled me tight to him.
"I have a fantasy," he said. "Have you ever thought about sex with another man?" He asked. I think he blushed, it was hard to tell from the pool lighting.
Wow. Honesty time! Of course I have thought about a Mel Gibson or a Dwayne Johnson showing me what they can do. Especially while Terry is at work and the girls are at school or daycare. But when that happens I'm alone in our bedroom with the blinds drawn and my favourite vibrator fully charged and at the ready.
No point lying to the man who I adore.
"Well, sure. From time to time I masturbate and think about hot guys." I responded. "No one we have ever actually met."
"I'm glad you do." He spoke, relieved. "I do too." Terry added.
"I'm not surprised." I whispered. "Who is it for you? Kate Beckinsale? Selina Gomez?" I asked.
This is where I was about to be stunned. While he held me tight, I felt him harden a little into my tummy. So, thinking I might as well enjoy this, I wrapped my legs around him and the buoyancy with his strength held me up. I felt that hardness press between my legs.
Then his confession came. "That's not what I mean..." He paused, "...I imagine you having sex with other men. Men that you are eager to take to bed. Men that make you cum so much that you pass out."
I was stunned. I searched his eyes and then I felt it. I felt him. His cock was hardening and starting to press on my pussy. I had no words.
