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Author's note:
My editor suggested that I put the last two chapters together and submit it as one. Because of my recent hiatus due to my "football injury" (haven't been able to say that since high school) I have a lot of work to catch up on. Therefore, I took his advice. This is the final chapter.
On an offhand note guys, keeping yourself in shape does not mean that you can run around with 20 year olds. Lifting weights and running on the treadmill is no substitute for raw youth. FYI
Anyways, thank you guys for reading. I have enjoyed writing this story and the feedback that it produced. Even the feedback from people who didn't like it. You took the time to give it to me, and it is greatly appreciated. Many authors don't like negative feedback. I still see it as a compliment.
I really tried to answer the emails guys. I'm almost certain I got to all of them. If I missed some, please don't take that as a sign that I didn't feel it was important.
Brief synopsis of the previous chapter:
THE PAST:
The game heated up for Josh and Naomi, and ultimately climaxed in a threesome with a man named Renaldo. This threesome, though erotic, made Josh seriously think about where this relationship was headed. He realized that they were out of control.
THE PRESENT:
The couple start therapy with Beth, who is a marriage counselor. They feel at ease with her, and begin to open up. The strain that the relationship is under is taxing for the both of them. Josh is hopeful that therapy will help them find out what went wrong. They have a ways to go...
STILL IN THE PAST
- Spring 2014 - December 2014
After Renaldo, we stepped around each other apprehensively. We avoided mentioning that event and went about our lives as if it never happened. At least we appeared to. However, each of us was dealing with what had happened in our own way.
Naomi showered me with love and attention. She practically drowned me if I am being honest. While I certainly enjoyed it, I did wonder why. She had always been a bit sparse in using the L word unless she had fucked up and needed to reassure me. That was what was so unsettling. I knew why all of the displays of affection were happening, and that inevitably brought me back to the feelings that I had over the Renaldo incident.
On my part, I dove head first into activities that gave me a little distance from her. I worked a little bit longer. Not enough to raise an eyebrow to the casual observer, but just enough so that I could delay going home while still maintaining an acceptable excuse.
I also started jogging/walking. Since her transformation a few years before, Naomi had been on me to start taking better care of myself, so this was also excusable. She did say that she would like to jog with me, but I waved that off. I told her that it would be too embarrassing to be upstaged by my wife because of my inability to keep up with her. It was a matter of male pride of course. She bought this reasoning, albeit a little too reluctantly for my taste, and didn't bother me about it again.
We did make love, but some of the fire was gone. I really have to take most of the responsibility for this. I could not help wondering if she were comparing me to Renaldo. When I watched her fucking him, it was clear that she was enjoying it. Even when I was out of the picture, it took her an entire thirty minutes to make it back to the room. Allowing her ten minutes to get dressed, that would still mean that he was fucking her for a whole fifteen to twenty minutes before she saw that I was missing.
This went on for a few weeks. I wasn't giving her the cold shoulder. I was just trying to come to grips with where we were in our lives together.
One night, I was watching "Suits" when Naomi walked in. I didn't see her so much as I felt her presence. When I turned to look at her, I saw pain written all over her face.
"What's wrong Na?" I asked. Seeing her looking like that broke through the barriers that I'd built up. The vision went straight to my heart.
"I miss you Josh. I miss us. I don't want to lose you."
I waved her over and she came over to the couch that I was on. I opened my arm and gave her room to cuddle me. Instead, she laid her head on my lap.
"I love you Na." I said as I stroked her hair. I felt her shoulders shaking before my pants got wet from her tears. I didn't say anything. I just gently caressed her hair. We stayed like that until "Suits" went off, and then we went to bed. We didn't make love that night, but we spooned and embraced until we fell asleep.
My icy fortress of solitude began to thaw after that. We slowly returned to how we were before the weekend at the spa. Within a few weeks after the night on the couch, we were enjoying the same loving partnership that we had. Everything except for our sex life was what it once was.
Understandably, we didn't attempt the game during this time period. Naomi's sex drive returned to how it had been before she opened up. I think that she was afraid of any reminders of that weekend and what it would do to me. Therefore, she avoided it. This avoidance had an overall effect on her libido. We still made love, but the fire that had been ignited in my wife - the fire that I enjoyed so much - was quelled.
In all other areas, she was the same loving wife that she had been in the past. She kissed me goodbye when we left each other. She cuddled me when we laid in bed together. We watched movies, went on dates, ate together, talked, laughed, cuddled, and made love. While it was very nice, it was also a little stale. At least to me.
I know, I know. Be happy with what you have. I was happy with what I had. But my penis wanted it all.
I began to miss the game, or at least the energy in our house when we were playing it. Yeah, we were cozy in our day-to-day lives and happy, but the extra excitement was gone. The spontaneity of the game had opened up a hidden compartment in our lives that was exciting. We had metaphorically closed that door and pretended that the room didn't exist. But we also left a lot of the fun in that room. That's the two-edged sword of excitement. It becomes addicting. I don't know if's adrenaline, or something psychological or whatever - but without a doubt when you start doing things that give you a high, you miss it when you stop.
It was close to Christmas. We were shopping for gifts. Naomi, being the ever-efficient one, had a list of things for everyone on the list. She knew the stores with the best prices. She actually had a spreadsheet of which items could be found at what stores. She knew the mall like the back of her hand. Using this knowledge, she separated the list according to which stores were in proximity of each other. I had my list and she had hers.
Being a guy, I was naturally was done shopping ages before she was. Hell, I had my list. I knew what I was going in there for. For me it was a simple matter of locating items, paying for items, putting items in the trunk. Easy peasy.
Now, my wife, well she did things a little differently. Being the quintessential woman that she was, she would locate her items, window shop for things that she would pick up on a later date, talk to the random fellow shopper about how crazy the stores were during the season, compare notes with another shopper who had kids around Henry's age, window shop in other stores, and finally call me to find out where I was. The exact opposite of easy peasy.
By the time she called me I'd already stuffed my face full of Sbarro's pepperoni pizza, a large coke, and a Cinna bon. Since this was one of the few opportunities for me to eat without the Health Nazi on my ass, I splurged.
She told me to meet her at some shoe store (not one of the stores that we needed to shop in, mind you), so I began to search for her. When I arrived, I didn't go right in. I watched her from the outside. There was a gentleman that she was talking to. He had a shoe in his hand and was pointing to various things about the shoe as he spoke, so my assumption was that he was describing the features.
It was obvious that he was hitting on her. It actually surprised me, because if I saw him in any other context I would have put money on the fact that he was gay. However, judging by the way he looked at my wife's cleavage as he spoke, he was definitely into women.
I also took a second to observe Naomi. The twinkle in her eyes. The smile. The arm touch. Oh my fucking God! She was flirting back.
