Many thanks to "Snooker70" and "SexyGeek" for their assistance. Snooker70 was relentless in helping me to improve the plot and making suggestions, SexyGeek also helped me a lot by doing the grammar and spelling check.
As always - if you enjoy seeing burning bitches or lengthy sex scenes, choose another author.
xx
MIKE
"Mike, honey. Do you think I'm attractive?" Damn. No matter if a woman looks as obviously hot as my wife does. No matter how often I tell her this. No matter how many guys drool after her. This question seems to be unavoidable in regular intervals.
It's been a relaxed Sunday afternoon on my deck so far. Nothing had hinted at the impeding trouble. I've been thinking about - well mostly nothing as it seems in hindsight. Nursing a cold beer. Watching the sky, my beautiful wife and a couple of birds doing some shit or other. Just like it should be. And suddenly I find myself in the middle of a nuclear mine field. My brain is in full alert mode within fractions of a second.
Of course I do find her attractive. But this question has probably always been dreaded by any cognizant husband for a good reason as a simple YES usually won't cut the mustard. The thought structure leading to this question is unfathomably complicated and way beyond any male brain. But of course I'll ignore all experience and try to get away with a simple YES anyway. And I can be absolutely honest about it. My wife Ellen is scorching hot. That makes this question so absurd and me so wary.
"You're extremely hot, Ellen." I try to sound sincere and convincing.
"Oh, thank you, honey." She smiles sweetly. "But what about my body?"
"Fantastic. You know that. You're a scorcher." I hope against better judgement that the matter might be settled with this.
"Honey, you know... I've had my night with Sue yesterday. We met in her apartment this time. You know, the new one. She has bought complete new furniture, can you believe it? The sofa alone..." I zone out for a while and watch these birds again while Ellen describes Sue's new furniture in great detail. "She has shown me her new flat and she's shown me a porn movie. Can you believe it?" I'm immediately alert again.
"What? What did you just say?" Okay, not my wittiest response. But this change of subject is too sudden for my poor brain to follow. Why is she asking me about her attractiveness, followed by a summary of Sue's furniture and then suddenly switches to porn? This has to be a new all-time high in female excursiveness. Or are these questions somehow connected? If they are, the connection remains a mystery to me. Why is she talking about porn anyway? This has always been some kind of taboo subject.
"Yes. And can you believe it - it wasn't even half bad." She's really babbling and in a happy mood seemingly. "You see - these people don't look as cheap as I've expected. Some... Well, some were actually quite hot. I... I hadn't expected that."
"Oh, you've enjoyed watching these guys?"
I wink a little while I'm asking this and try to keep the tone of that question light. But my mind is racing. She's never been into porn. She has always claimed to find it repulsive. What's happening here?
"Not only the guys, honey. The women were quite pretty too. It was really not as repulsive to watch as I've expected. And you know what - Sue then just plain told me than I'm hot enough to be a porn actress myself. Can you believe it? But I think she just tried to be nice. What do you think?"
Ah, I finally see the connection. She wants me to confirm Sue's compliment. That's okay. Now the situation can be defused pretty easily. I'm relieved that I'm probably off the hook now.
"Yeah, I totally agree. You're really hot stuff, surely hot enough to be a porn star. Hell, you'd probably be the most beautiful woman they ever had for their shit. But don't even think about it..." I'm trying to sound sincere while I'm only joking. This whole idea isn't really serious and we both know it. But if the thought pleases her, why not? Life has taught me that some women need constant reassurance. And that men's lives are definitely easier if they provide it.
"Oh, no, you moron." She laughs. She's smiling and really seems to be happy. Well, that was a strange conversation for sure. Even for Ellen's standard. Small price to pay for being with such a stone fox.
xx
MIKE - a few weeks later
After dinner I'm surprised to find Ellen in the living room, watching a movie. My eyes almost pop out of my head as I see that it's a porn movie. Not some emotional, soft-core, cuddling stuff for women. This is standard hard-core stuff. The kind of stuff men don't want to be caught watching by their wives. She watches it with a fascinated expression on her face and winks at me from time to time. Obviously, she's absolutely unperturbed by the situation. I don't have the slightest idea what's going on here. So, lacking a better plan, I proceed to stand there with my mouth hanging slightly open.
"Honey... umm... Would you mind?"
"Ah..." What is she talking about? Mind what? I have the impression that I'm not really at the front line, regarding the recent developments in our household. Then she answers the question by lifting her short skirt and starting to masturbate while she watches a couple fucking. To say that I'm stunned would be the understatement of the year. If a spaceship with two-headed M landed in our living room, I wouldn't be shocked now. Not only is she wearing a ridiculously short skirt without the most stunning thing is that she's openly masturbating while I'm watching. This is a definite first. And she's absolutely not shy about it, so I have to assume she's doing this a lot. And I've never seen her watching more than a few seconds of porn. She's certainly changed a lot in a short time and that scares me. I don't know what's happening and I don't know if I like it. I mean, I'd certainly welcome her being more uninhibited but I also dread any major change in our happy marriage and gentle, slow and considerate love life. I have always enjoyed it this way and had assumed she felt the same.
I'm feeling out of place and insecure, not knowing what she expects me to do now. Retreat is not an option, so I just sit next to her, trying to appear interested in the movie. And trying desperately not to appear narrow-minded and embarrassed by her behavior. Well, maybe I'm a little strange, but porn never really appealed to me that much. It always seemed too ridiculous and cheap to be erotic or even believable. Although this particular movie doesn't look as cheap as the one I've watched years ago at Marty's bachelor party. Actually, for a porn movie it looks quite classy.
She continues to masturbate and looks at me expectantly.
"Well?" She asks.
"Erm... well what?"
"Honey, don't you want to fuck me?" Whoah, did she say fuck? That's another novelty for her. But I surely don't mind to follow her suggestion. Not because the movie turns me on but because she does.
The slightly annoying thing is though, she's not really with me while I "fuck" her. She keeps looking at the screen where some muscular, Hispanic guy is pounding a petite blonde hottie from behind. I notice that the blonde's tits absolutely don't respond to the movement of her body while they're hanging down from her chest. They look like they have the consistency of hard rubber. They're probably bullet-proof too.
But Ellen seems to be beyond such minor technicalities and watches the scene mesmerized, obviously unable or unwilling to look away even shortly. I feel a little neglected, so I start pounding her harder to bring her back to reality. This is not our usual way of tender love-making and I'm not even sure if I really succeed in distracting her. At least she looks at me from time to time now, but mainly keeps watching the screen. I begin to feel like some self-acting dildo with an enormous and slightly unnecessary attachment on it. Finally she has a small orgasm. And eventually the guy blows his load into the blonde's face and the next scene with different actors comes up. The story line and the acting skills are preposterously poor and seem to help to divert Ellen's attention back to me. But she's not really into it and merely waits for me to finish. I feel a little sad, which is something I've never experienced before during sex. I even have problems to finish.
After the sex, she looks quite satisfied and unperturbed. But she doesn't want to kiss and cuddle and seems lost in thought. I'm not sure if this whole thing has been an improvement for our sex life. Somehow I doubt it.
"Ah, that was hot. Don't you think, honey?"
"Ah, no, Ellen. Not at all. Ellen... to be honest, I felt a little neglected. You... you obviously wanted to watch that Hispanic guy while I fucked you. Maybe you even imagined being fucked by him. You know, that porn shit really didn't make things better for me."
"Don't be silly, honey." And with that, the matter seems to be settled for her. No explanation, no reflection about my doubts. Just a curt "don't be silly".
Shouldn't our roles be reversed, I think? Usually the man would be the porn addict and prefer hard, mechanical sex. While the woman craves cuddling and intimacy during and after the sex and unsuccessfully tries to talk about her feelings. If this role reversal means that we lead some kind of modern marriage, I can do without it for sure.
xx
MIKE
Several days later, I initiate sex by caressing and kissing her on our bed.
"Oh, wait a moment, honey," she says and switches on the TV. Again, she starts a porn movie, although a different one. But I notice the same Hispanic guy. The opening credits, which look like they've been created using some 80s home computer, announce his name as Ramon Gutierrez. Which at least seems a little more credible than the other Rock Steels and Candy Luvs.
"Ellen... honey, I don't think this is sexy. I don't really... It destroys our intimacy and my mood. Their groaning in the background is just ridiculous."
She reacts by switching off the sound and looks at me expectantly.
"Better, yes. But not as good as it could be."
"Mike, honey, accept it for me, please. It will spice up our sex life. You will see."
I'm not sure, but I keep my mouth shut. After all, it's me who wants to have sex, so I can't be picky. I just hope that this Ramon guy will not become a permanent addition to our sex life. And that we can return to our old way of gentle love making some day.
xx
MIKE
Again, we have to watch a Ramon Gutierrez movie while we're having sex. And it's definitely sex we're having, we're not making love any more. I'm seriously worried now. For weeks, we didn't have sex once without the guy's twisted face in the background while he unsuccessfully tries to look as if he's in the throes of passion. It seems she does not only have a porn addiction but also a very specific crush on that Ramon guy. Shit.
Sex is merely a chore for me now. I don't want to lose her, so I keep doing my husbandly duties. But I certainly don't enjoy being the replacement cock while she imagines having sex with this guy. I even have problems to finish on some days.
"Mike, honey... do you really think I would be pretty enough to star in such a movie? You have already told me, but I think you just wanted to flatter me."
"Oh, you surely are."
"Aren't my tits too small?"
"No, they're perfect. They're beautiful. And most of all - they're real. Not the glued on balls these bimbos have. But don't even think about it." This time I'm not so sure if my warning is just a joke. And my tone is not as light any more. I really don't know where this whole situation is leading to.
She smiles happily, totally oblivious of my concerns and fears. "Thank you. You're really cute." Cute? Not handsome? Or manly? Just cute?
"So, do you think I'm handsome enough to do it too?" I ask this just to annoy her and to remind her that two can play this game.
"Oh, yes, you certainly are. But your cock is too small."
