Sylvia and I were cuddling in bed after having made love. We had spent the day apart, me tending to the yard and repairs around the house or on the cars and she at the gym. She suggested we go on a date as the next night was Sunday and she would be in bed early because Monday was a work day. Our date was enjoyable, but it did seem crammed with an awful lot. By the time we got home we were tired, but she insisted we make love. I couldn't nor wanted to turn her down. We spent precious few hours together during the week so she didn't want the opportunity Saturday night provided us to not be taken. Sundays were always too busy with church and watching our grandchildren play sports or giving their parents a break by having their kids at our house. It was nice, but exhausting, and by the time Sunday evening rolled around we were both ready for bed.
We were empty nesters who still worked. She left the house before I even woke up and I returned from work several hours after she was asleep. Our us time was rare. She surprised me one day when she suggested with us having so much space she would get a much better sleep if we had separate bedrooms. I had no idea I had been disrupting her sleep for the months I had been on my new shift. I agreed after she pointed out I snored louder these days and while I was quiet coming to bed I was no ninja. It was weird to be vacating the bedroom we had shared through three decades of marriage. She sensed I was a bit uncomfortable with my decision and told me as she lovingly manipulated my manhood that during my days off we would share the same bed. I felt better about my decision as she coaxed a rather explosive eruption out of my cock.
We had several spare beds and pieces of furniture so it was only a matter of time to make me a bedroom. She had given this lots of thought as she shot down my suggestions on which previous bedroom would be mine. We had converted one bedroom on the upper floor where the master bedroom was into a guest room. She pointed out how much effort she had put into making it a really nice guest bedroom. The other now empty bedroom nearest our bedroom she had me convert into a laundry room. Since I was home most of the day she thought it best I do the laundry. She had a point so I took charge of washing her clothes, hanging the ones she didn't want in the dryer, ironing, and after I had proven my competency, given the task of hand washing her delicates, which involved more hanging.
The one bedroom left on that floor was now our grandkids' play and sleep over room. Most of the time they insisted on sharing our bed and we just didn't have the heart to tell them no.
She suggested I make my bedroom in the basement. The basement was nice, offered plenty of room, had its own bathroom, and was far enough away that my activities or snoring wouldn't disturb her. We spent the better part of a weekend fixing it up. She even bought me a big tv and set up the recliner so I could do my two favorite pastimes, read and watch sports.
For several months I spent Monday through Friday sleeping in the basement and Saturday and Sunday back in the master bedroom with her. She said she was getting much better sleep.
Due to my schedule I already did the house cleaning and since she considered the cars and yard man work I was responsible for those activities. I didn't mind because I actually enjoyed cleaning the house, doing the dishes, laundering and ironing, maintaining the cars, and yard work.
After one particularly enjoyable Saturday she asked if I minded sleeping in the basement on Sundays. She pointed out it wasn't my snoring but the game on the tv. I told her I could watch the game in the living room then come to bed after it was over.
She said that wouldn't work because I'd wake her up when I got in bed. For someone who wasn't a light sleeper she carried on like she was. She then said I shouldn't have to move twice on her account as I could watch the tv in my recliner or from my bed in the basement.
I agreed to her request and we were soon sleeping apart six days out of seven. She told me one subsequent Saturday that she had read an article about the growing trend of couples having separate bedrooms and that her ladies' group discussed it. She asked if it embarrassed me to be the topic of discussion. I told her it didn't. She said good because she had discussed our sleeping arrangements with them. She said she also praised my skills as housekeeper, yard boy, and auto mechanic.
One of her friends asked, "Sylvia, what do you do if Frank does everything?"
She said, "Absolutely Nothing."
Instead of feeling stung at being on the short end of the stick I defended our arrangement telling her she deserved a break after all the years she spent pampering the kids.
She asked, "So you don't feel cheated?"
I answered, "Not at all. I've always been a bit of a homebody."
She pointed out we still had our date night Saturdays together and with a mischievous grin said, "And you know what happens after the date."
They got the picture knowing we were having sex Saturday nights. It actually became a standing joke in our circle of friends when Sylvia and I would cut out a little early on a Saturday evening.
While I was sleeping in the basement I was doing everything else in the master bedroom. I had half the closet and my toiletries in the bathroom.
Over a candlelit dinner where we shared a bottle of wine Sylvia rubbed my hand ever so gently as she talked about how well I took care of her. My chest swelled with pride. She talked about how the seasons were about to change and she would be breaking out her winter clothes which she stored in another bedroom closet and how she hated having to swap them out because there were days when it was still rather warm. I saw where she was headed and being the gallant I am I suggested moving my clothes and toiletries to my bedroom in the basement.
Needless to say Super Sex Saturday was pretty damn incredible that night.
A few months later after talking about my snoring she guilted me into vacating the bed after another fun Saturday. We were snuggling. She was falling asleep as I spooned against her when she mumbled about hoping I wouldn't snore too loud. I didn't want to be the cause of her having a bad sleep so I let her fall asleep before exiting the bed and heading to the basement.
She made my favorite dinner that Sunday to show how much she appreciated my thoughtfulness. I assured her it was no problem. She said, "That was my best sleep ever. Expertly satisfied then drifting off as you held me. I felt so loved."
I thanked her for the praise and told her it's because I loved her.
While she had shared our sleeping arrangements with her close circle of friends, she was a bit more reticent doing so with our kids and family. She worried our kids would think something was wrong.
I understood her concern and some of her friends had reacted quite negatively to our arrangement, but I told her to ignore them. What worked for our marriage was of no concern to them. I told her I was going to tell our kids and would break the news to our families when they visited. After hearing me explain the reasons why our kids thought it made perfect sense.
I didn't do yard work in the winter or too much with the cars as it was too cold outside so Sylvia picked out some colors and had me paint the walls of the master bedroom and bath. She then suggested we take our income tax refund and spend it on a new bedroom set and mattresses. After the furniture arrived she bought comforters in colors that reflected her tastes.
By spring, our master bedroom was referred to as Sylvia's bedroom and my bedroom as Frank's bedroom. The weather was getting nicer and the days longer, but I wasn't around to enjoy them with her.
Our date night stayed the same, but Super Sex Saturday changed. Due to menopause, Sylvia complained penetrative sex just wasn't as enjoyable as it was earlier in our marriage. We tried lubricating gels, but she didn't find them to her liking. As much as I liked being intimate with her via intercourse I didn't want it if it hurt her.
Sylvia was never very keen on performing fellatio as she said my dick was a bit wide for her mouth. With her vagina now off limits to my cock and tubes of gel at her disposal Sylvia taught herself how to give world class handjobs. They were wonderful I told her and a huge surprise. She liked me to be flat on my back. She would sit between my open legs, lubricate my penis and over the course of fifteen to twenty minutes bring me to the point of climaxing a dozen times before allowing me to release.
It was late spring when we were having super sex Saturday that she told me how lonely her weeks were. Saturdays she said were the only bright spot in her week. My initial reaction was tremendous guilt. I told her I could find another job with a schedule that lined up with hers.
