It wasn't going to happen. I was tired. I was out of breath. And no closer to orgasm than I'd been when we started.
We could keep fucking like this, but I wasn't going to come and I didn't see any sign that she would, either. The sound of the bed squeaking and our bodies connecting filled our bedroom with a deafening lack of sound.
She knew it and I knew it, yet for some reason we kept at it. Pushing, pulling and sweating futilely until we both just lay there, breathing hard and staring at ceiling.
That was the exact moment. The point where a decision had to be made. We could give it up and go our separate ways or we could try something else. But whatever it was we were doing, we couldn't do whatever this was any longer.
I propped myself up on my elbow and looked at my wife. Her staring at the ceiling as if someone was going to airdrop supplies. Or rescue her.
She was still beautiful. If anything, she was more beautiful than the girl I'd married ten years ago.
Audrey was now in her late thirties. The word most commonly used to describe her was striking. But to me, my wife's sleek look was best described by the word "expensive." Her dark hair was cropped in stylish, shorter cut with highlights that offset her pronounced high cheekbones. Her breeding exuded class and poise, even now, naked and straining beneath me.
Her lean frame was a yoga and pilates-toned torso, replete with firm muscle you could feel just under the surface. Her legs, which were always amazing, were now near perfect and led the eye towards her pert little ass cheeks.
Sure, there were little lines here and there. But her skin regimen, made up of countless expensive creams and lotions and make-up made it so you couldn't find them if you tried. And I wasn't trying to find faults or wrinkles. I was just trying to find the Audrey that still wanted me.
Finally, she rolled toward me with a sigh, her sea green eyes taking in my softening cock before raising them to meet my eyes. And that's when I knew what was different about Audrey. It was her eyes. The color was the same, maybe darker. But the playful and promising glint in them was long gone.
"Do you want to talk?" she said, with a tone that clearly implied that she did not. When had she become so guarded? When had I?
"Let's do it" I told her.
She raised an eyebrow incredulously. Slowly, carefully she said, "we just... tried."
She still could get a smile out of me. Even then. I took it as a good sign. I let a big breath. "No. That's not what I meant. Let's go see this lady. Mbayo. Let's do whatever it takes. Voodoo. Chickens. Herbs. Incense. Whatever. I'll do it."
A light came on somewhere inside of her. A small flow of tears began to leak out of her eye and she wiped it, distractedly. "Do you mean it, William?" She bit her lip and began again. "If we're going to do this, I want you to commit to it."
I nodded. This wasn't enough for her. She reached forward, grabbing my cock firmly. Her emerald eyes shot me another questioning glance, letting me know the price she was willing to pay. I felt myself stiffen in her grasp. "I will. I'll do whatever this Mbayo woman says."
Trying to have a baby had been . Honestly, it was killing us. We're certainly not the first couple to have trouble conceiving. And we wouldn't have been the first to split up over it, either. But for Audrey it had become an obsession and for myself, it had become something I didn't even want to think about.
It had been going on this way for years now. The harder we tried the more she wanted it and the more I wanted to give up. And the more we began to resent each other. And the more the joy left our bedroom.
As a clinical scientist, I had access to some of the best doctors and fertility clinics in the region, but none of them did any good. We were what was called a double risk infertility. My sperm count was abysmal and her ovaries the same. But there were exercises and pills. Timing ovulation. Supplements. Viagra. And when those didn't work there was in vitro, which resulted in a miscarriage and left us in even more pain with a side helping of financial trouble.
After the heartbreak of the miscarriage, I began to talk adoption. Audrey wouldn't listen. Her view was that she would adopt, but she wanted this baby to be hers. And nothing would stop her. She began to work out obsessively and threw herself into her work. It was as if she believed that she could outperform this problem.
At first, it was amazing watching her transformation. She had always been soft and curvy, but the years had added a few pounds here and there. Not anymore. Six days a week at the gym, sometimes twice a day and zero carb diets began to tone her and harden her into an amazon. I still thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world, but there was so much pain and determination in that lean new body of hers that it was hard to find the lust I was supposed to feel for it.
She began to push harder for more sex, but the joy was gone. Each climax was another one that failed to provide what she wanted so desperately. Each one a symbol of my failure as her partner. Each one another crushing blow to my own sense of worth.
That's when she began to pull away. The workouts became more fervent. More rigorous. She never said it, but I believe she was trying to fix herself in some way. Become so healthy that pregnancy couldn't possibly be denied her.
She began taking hormonal supplements she purchased from the health food store. When those were deemed too weak, she began buying in bulk on the internet. She dragged me into each of these homeopathic cures. Fish oil. Roots. Tinctures. Salves. All berry diets. Egg and fish only protein diets. Cleanses. Tantric sex. Crystals. Meditation. A "Fertility Cruise and Resort" package. She knew that, as a scientist, I didn't believe in any of it. And that was another thing she blamed me for.
Before my only way to stop it was too make myself too busy. As she began taking up residence in the gym, I began letting myself go. Adding pounds I didn't need. I took up smoking again. Quit. Started again. Found bars to go hang out in, found excuses not to come home to whatever regime was being enforced that month.
Audrey had an affair with her trainer. She only told me after I confessed that I'd begun having feelings for a woman at work. In one terrible evening, we both put it all out there. She'd used him to try and get pregnant, but failed. Now the shame was too much. I confessed that I'd allowed myself to become infatuated in by an attractive young woman at work who clearly was looking to earn a quick promotion.
We considered separating. But we didn't. Maybe it was harder than imagining being alone. Or maybe we just weren't done with each other. Things got better for awhile and we both put the topic of children away for awhile. But it was hard, watching our friends and family conceive with ease. Before long, Audrey was making subtle and not-so-subtle hints about new methods she'd heard about.
