As I walked in the door after my day at work, I heard my wife, Melissa, crying. It sounded as if it was coming from the bedroom of our home. Melissa and I have been married for 7 years, and it has been a happy marriage. But, she can be emotional at times.
As I peeked through a small crack in the bedroom door, I saw her standing at the mirror, her back to me but her image in the mirror visible. She was dressed in a pair a Capri pants that I didn't recognize so I assumed they were a new purchase she had made. She wore a bra but no blouse. I didn't see her face in her reflection as it was angled slightly downward, positioned primarily to facilitate dressing in the morning
I opened the door fully with some trepidation, "What's wrong, Hon?" I inquired. I am not sure she knew I had even come home yet. She turned her head, her eye mascara make-up smeared from tears that were obvious as they streaked down her face in those telltale lines of sorrow.
"Look at me. Arthur, I'm just fat. Just call me fat because that's what I am. And when I put on these capri pants......., I look like a beached whale."
I try to placate her during her time of distress, but both she and I both knew that this was true. Wearing the capri pants only emphasized her bulky thighs, and her tummy which flopped over her belt at her waist. She had been gaining weight over the last 7 months especially, but has been creeping up for several years.
When we were first married, she was extremely shapely which made her so desirable I could not keep my hands off her. And, oh, how she would tease me, endlessly. Her legs were trim, her buttocks firm, stomach flat and muscular. She would dress to excite me wearing skirts well above her knees, and those legs always glistening in a pair of glossy suntan pantyhose that she knew drove me crazy with desire. She would choose only the sexiest of bras, lacey, deep cut cleavage, abbreviated cup and brief, colorful thong panties
always a thong, the back pulled tightly between her cheeks
.
But those days were only a memory, like the memory of a favorite centerfold in the old Penthouse magazine days (
we all have a centerfold hidden away somewhere to help culminate a satisfying masturbation)
. She has tried multiple diets, and continued attending the gym, but her frustration culminated today. Her appearance in the new pair of capri pants brought the realization to a head.
"Nothing works Arthur, nothing will make me shapely as I was when we married. I feel so embarrassed by the way I look, I don't want to leave the house. When I go to the gym, I know everybody is staring at me, whispering and snickering." She looked back at the mirror, adjusted the waist of her pants. She looked at me with this somber look. "Do you still love me Arthur?". Melissa continued to sob, and I was left speechless, but concurred silently that her appearance has made her physically less desirable.
As I said we had been married for 7 years, and while she was preoccupied with her style and attractiveness early on, often teasing me with her dress but, our sex life was anything but adventuresome. Typical missionary sex once a week, no more no less. She was never attracted to oral sex, and when I went down on her pussy, she would grab my ear firmly, twisting it as she pulled me back up from between her thighs. And anal, that was unthinkable. She had one of those very intricate triple treat vibrator by her bedside in the dresser, but I had never seen her use it. I smelled it occasionally to see if I detected a whiff of her female aroma, but encountered the smell of her perfumed soap instead. I checked once, the batteries were absent. It was probably a purchase she had made early on and it has remained in her drawer since.
She was right, now she became more plump, her physical desirability had faded, even to where I was contemplating some video sex as a diversion, despite its artificiality .Then, in a sudden fit, she tore off the new clothes that she had just purchased, threw the pants on the floor, and flopped back on the bed in her mommy briefs and full figure bra. "If I can't lose weight, I'm just going to kill myself. I don't deserve to live like this." The extent of her distress now was more evident.
"Will work on it together, I know you can do it." I said with a reassuring voice, but knowing that I had no new ideas.
*******************
It was 2 weeks later, and nothing had changed. She was crying almost every night when we went to bed as she donned her flannel nightgown. She didn't even want to cuddle in response to my reassurance. "You're lying, Arthur, you're fucking lying and I hate it." This was followed by the inevitable question in a soulful voice, "do you still love me, Arthur?" She remained isolated each night, not even a kiss before she turned on her side and fell asleep
Then, about 10 days later, she crawled into bed nude. No cuddling in a fetal position which has been her usual evening repose. As for me, I was reading my book which now preoccupied my bedtime hours. I was taken aback by her warm physical presence in bed.
Then I felt her hand on my cock. Her grip was soft, weakly grasping my flaccid member. I know something had changed, for her to actually initiate sex is unheard of. It was too early for there to be any noticeable change in her weight so I was unsure of her motive. Did she just feel obligated after a 4 week abstinence? I felt my growth in my cock as she dragged her fingernails over the shaft and squeezed her thumb and index finger surrounding the edge of my head.
Melissa snuggled up to me, a waif of perfume now obvious as it hung in the air above us. In a barely audible low voice, she spoke. "Arthur, I heard about a new way to lose weight. " Oh oh, another trial and another failure to bear, I thought to myself.
But she continued "On the website, it sounds like women are extremely successful in lose 5-10 pounds quickly and even more over time, but I'm going to need your help." Melissa voice was becoming more excited than I had seen her in months.