My wife Mary is a good looking woman considering that we recently celebrated our fortieth anniversary. True, she has a slight midriff problem as most women in their late fifties have, but she has other good qualities. Like her breast are still a mostly perky at a full C cup with perky nipples that still point outward instead of sagging. Then again her long strong legs that go all the way up to her wide hips and round ass are always worth watching as they go by.
After our kids were born she stayed home and took care of them. Although, as soon our Danny, the youngest, put his foot on the school bus step though, she started working again. Over the years she has put in enough years that she could work from home most days and only go in when they have a special project.
Where I am a computer tech that travels throughout the southeast, installing and training our users. This takes me away from home at least two nights if not a full week each month. It was great when I was younger and thinner. Between work and the job jar of projects, waiting for me at home, never bothered me. Now, with the extra weight of years eating out at buffets, all I seem to want to do is vegetate when I get home. This is not to say I am terribly over of weight, but I am not the trim 147 pounds of when we first met. I look more like a strong, broad shouldered, couch potato.
My sex drive has dropped some even though Mary's seems to have increased over the years. For some reason she always seems to be the one that initiates it. Usually I enjoy the play, but often I just roll over in bed and try sleep. She thinks I need my testosterone checked. I just feel that another hour of sleep would fix the problem. Eventually, she would give in and let me roll over without an argument.
We have been together for what seems to be forever. Everything, just going along as usual. The only surprise might be a new recipe that she had found on the internet or a shirt that she bought while I was on a trip. She did try to spice things up over the last couple of months by buying a couple of thin low necked shirts that were more of a bathing suit cover than a shirt. Then Spandex instead of jeans started mixing in with the shirts it got a bit more interesting. It still didn't ignite as much of a fire as she had hoped.
At sixty-one I was just not in shape enough to be trudging wires through the rafters for the computer systems. Putting in a full day at work was taking its toll and at the end of an eight hour day I was tired, much less a ten to twelve hour day when on the road. Our sex life was suffering because of it. A hug and a kiss before I flopped onto the couch was about all that I did any more. I did keep the job jar nearly empty, but that didn't waken the monster within.
She did keep up with the sexy outfits, and even go bra-less more often. This really took away any imagination as to what her breasts looked like with most of the shirts. The pants so tight showed off her long well shaped legs to such an immodest degree. Some days when I got home late, I could see that she must have been playing with herself because of her swelled labia causing a very hot, wet, camel toe.
One night when I went for my nightly kiss hello, I reached between her legs and let my finger drag between the moist folds of her pants. My finger got very wet even though she jumped back saying, "There will be none of that my tired man." It was then, that I realized my fifty-eight year old partner was not only wet, but she was going commando. I never thought about her wanting to go without wearing any underwear.
Smiling at her I raised my finger up to my lips and sticking out my tongue I licked it and said, "A little moist tonight." Her eyes went wide moments before she spun around and rushed back into the kitchen. I was going to tease her some more, but was dumb founded as I watched her in almost a panic rush off. I hadn't moved my hand from my face and looking at my finger noticed it was far more pungent than normal. She is always so clean and fresh smelling I started to wonder if she was okay.
