Their marriage was not unlike many others. They met in college, married young and saw their two sons mature and leave home for college. Lori was just shy of fifty and Tom had passed the half century mark a year earlier. Before babies, before mortgages, before the pressures of moving up the corporate ladder their sex life was anything but routine.
Lori would meet him at the door in some new lingerie or in nothing at all. They would fuck in the doorway of the apartment, too excited to waste time moving to the bedroom. She dressed to please him and that pleased other men. Skirts worn shorter than the norm and often braless tits undulating under tight sweaters. They were happy and horny.
Then the overtime at work began and her first pregnancy. Tom quit playing basketball with his friends spreading his time out between work and family. The pounds came slowly but by the time their second son was born he was not the Adonis she had married. She cut her hair short because it took less time to dry, wore flats instead of heels and sweats instead of clingy clothes. She now met him at the door with a crying toddler and they both fell asleep with little more than a kiss between them. Love was still there but the fire had been doused by the pressures of growing up. Doused but not extinguished. There was still sex when the time could be found. During a nap, early on a Sunday morning. His work took them away from relatives so the boys were with them most all the time.
Tom insisted she didn't work and though he was climbing the corporate ladder vacations were short and far between, usually back to their home town to visit grandparents. A story many have heard and perhaps some have lived. When their youngest left for college, Lori woke one morning and after stepping out of the shower she examined herself in the mirror.
At five foot five she was still in good shape, a bit rounder than before but her breasts and ass still made her proud. She noticed how hairy her pussy was and remembered how she use to trim it short for Tom. Her hair was neat but not well groomed because she went to a discount hair saloon, not to save money but because it was quicker. Realization set in and Lori decided at that moment to spend the time she had on the boys for the last twenty some odd years on herself.
Appointments were made, goals were set and over a year Lori proudly examined herself in the mirror each morning. She was toned, her hair on her head and between her legs was nicely cut and her nails were no longer chipped but well manicured. She found pleasure in looking at herself and masturbated more than she had in years. Often her sessions were fueled by imaginary men using and displaying her for their pleasure and amusement. Lori would often feel guilty about these thoughts yet her imagination continued to fine tune and hone these fantasies.
She started a campaign to rejuvenate Tom and he started to find time for himself. They were both near or past that milestone of fifty years of age but were accepting it with open arms. The only thing that didn't improve was the sex. It was still routine and infrequent, not by Lori's choice. Tom loved his wife's new look but wanted only to view her from afar. He would encourage her to dress sexily but focus his attention on the men who would ogle her and when they finally would be intimate he would climax quickly while thinking of her with other men. Their fantasies were alike but neither of them voiced them aloud.
One evening after a nice dinner out and some good wine Lori brought up their sex life. "Tom, am I still attractive, still sexy to you?" she whispered, "I feel with the freedom we now have we would, you know, make love more often. I am hornier than since we were first married. Don't I appeal to you?"
"You are more beautiful than when I met you. I love you very much, but I just don't have the same feelings, you know about sex and when I do, I think about things which are kind of weird and I feel guilty," he stammered.
"Other women, is that it, Tom?"
"No, no, I only think of you, I swear. It is just that, well, I know it is only fantasy, but I think of you. Never mind. I don't want to talk about it."
"Tom, please we need to discuss it. I masturbate during the day and I have thoughts. Maybe if we shared our fantasies we could enjoy each other more. We don't want to risk what we have but if it is just fantasy what harm can it be?"
"Lori, you know how I've always liked it when you dress sexy and men look at you. It turns me on, knowing they find you sexy. I think a lot of you with other men."
Lori smiled and said, "You mean sharing me with another man, someone we know?"
"No, not like that, I think of strange men using you. Treating you like a slut, a whore. I'm sorry Lori, when we have sex I am thinking of me watching you with a man or men. Doing whatever they tell you, using your mouth and pussy. Then when they are done, and when they are gone, that's when I make love to your soiled and sweaty body. I, I'm sorry."
"Oh Tom don't feel guilty. We should have talked about this months...years ago. When I am alone I think about those same thoughts. Well not exactly, I don't think about you just watching, but I think about you and other men using me, exposing me in public. Making me humiliate myself. I feel bad after, but when I cum thinking of those things I cum harder than ever."
