It started with an innocuous post on Facebook.
My wife was going through the change and was constantly hot at night in bed. Literally, not figuratively unfortunately for me.
I had suggested sleeping naked to her, but she dismissed that comment as nothing more than me seeking an opportunity to grope her more often. I can't say the thought had not crossed my mind as a possible fringe benefit.
Instead she slept with not one, but two fans. One tower fan cycling back and forth along her body on her side of the bed, and a small desk type fan on her bedside table focussed on her head.
The change did have an affect on her, as the various articles I had read suggested it could do. As she was constantly warm, she did not cuddle up to me in bed anymore, because my body heat made her unbearably hot. Our sex life, though never great, had ground to a halt. I could not decide if this was symptomatic of the change in its own right, or if it was because of the lack of cuddling, which had often been a prelude to sex previously, as it created an intimacy that led to foreplay.
The fans also had an affect on me. I was bloody freezing half the night, as she dispensed with the duvet; also removing it from my slumbering form and exposing me to the cool air circulated by the rotating blades. My sleep pattern suffered. And I constantly felt like I had a cold or virus.
After a few months, I came across a couple of those sponsored posts on Facebook, purely by accident. One was actually about the affects of using fans in summer to keep you cool as you slept. It did not make good reading. I showed it to Julie, and asked her to stop using them as I was struggling, and the article seemed to explain why. She refused, and told me to sleep in the spare room. Another kick in the balls to our sex life, if not our marriage.
I was not prepared to do that. I did not want us to drift apart, even if she could not see that this was what was actually happening.
A few days later I came across another sponsored article about the 10 benefits of sleeping naked. I made Julie read it.
Of course one of the benefits was an improved sex life. And she immediately latched on to this point as my motivation for suggesting it again, being all too aware herself we had not fucked in months.
For once I got angry at her. I laid it all out for her, telling her why I would not sleep in the spare room, even though her use of fans was making me ill and even though I could not sleep properly, and also pointed out the other nine benefits, one of which was better temperature regulation of the body.
Reluctantly she agreed to try it, but warned me against using it as an excuse to touch her up.
For three days I was acutely conscious of her sexy, naked form lying next to me, and for those three days I barely slept either because I could not stop thinking about touching her and fucking her hard. It was purgatory being caught between a deep lust, and not wanting to try anything, as I would prove her right. I decided she would come around in time, as she got used to sleeping nude.
On the fourth night, something miraculous happened.
I was lay on my side facing away from her. Also naked. I had to agree to do the same for the sake of fairness.
I felt her turn and shuffle in to my back. I held my breath not knowing if she was conscious of her actions, or if she was still asleep.
Her soft, warm mounds pressed in to my back and I could feel the tickle of her pubic hairs on my arse cheeks. My cock ached in frustration. Still I did nothing. I lay there with my dick rock hard until presumably, she got too warm and turned away from me.
I should have followed her, and wrapped myself around her, but I was still reticent about how she would react. Instead I slipped in to the en suite and cracked one off. It didn't take long!
Three days later, a similar thing happened again, but this time she went a step further. A step she rarely took in all our married life.
I felt her warm skin press in to my back, her arm looped over my hip, dangling in front of my crotch.
My dick hardened at the feel of her breasts and pussy against my skin. After a minute or two of stillness, her arm moved slightly, and I felt the tips of her fingers, her false nails really, gently slide up and down my length. I thought I heard her sigh as she continued to trail her fingers back and forth. I was frozen to the spot, I didn't want to move in case I broke the spell and she awoke from some kind of daze oblivious to her actions.
I'm glad I didn't. 30 or 40 seconds later, her finger tips encircled the tip of my cock and took a gentle hold of it, before slowly and deliberately pulling the skin up and down to tug me off.
I knew she was not sleeping now, as her hand began to move faster, more urgently. Still I said nothing. But she did.
"I need you to fuck me Chris...please fuck me."
Unfortunately for her, such was my excitement at her hand yanking my dick after such a long time without any kind of intimacy, that I came before she could let go and rollover, so I could enter her.
I apologised and told her if she waited a little while, we could go again, but she sulked and said the moment had gone now. She turned her back to me so I got the message; and to be honest I was a little pissed at her too, I mean you can't sex starve a bloke then expect performance on demand. Can you?
I got my second shock later that night, when my sleep was disturbed by the perception of movement in the bed, small ripples of action transferred through the mattress to my body, and then, as I slipped back to semi-consciousness from my slumber, the soft moans and whispered words associated with a sex act.
As I lay there, facing away from her, it was obvious my wife was fingering herself while fantasising about something or other...or even someone or other. The second thought gave rise to both jealousy and erotic visions in equal measure I noticed.
I heard her cum. I also felt her cum too in a way. Her fingers stopped working her clit and her hips stopped wiggling at their touch, as she was temporarily paralysed by her orgasm shredding her nerve endings. The lack of motion a confirmation that she was done. The shallow panting breaths an indication of her orgasms intensity.
It took me a long time to drift off back to sleep, as my mind was full of thoughts about what my wife was thinking off as she pleasured her cunt, and what whispered words she was muttering from her lips as she reached orgasm.
I had never witnessed her play with herself, and her pleasuring me was also so rare I could not remember the last time she gripped my cock and made me shoot my load.
Another 3 days went by, and nothing much happened. That I noticed anyway.
On the fourth night, I was woken by her touch again. The same hand reaching for my cock and teasing it hard. She was smarter this time once she got it hard.
"Chris, Chris...I want you to fuck me." She said matter of factly.
She rolled over and presented her shapely, smooth skinned, toned arse to me, in the spoons position. I turned over, my shaft more than ready and willing to penetrate her, and slipped inside her warm, very wet pussy.
