Jennifer's Story.
My husband, James, has a higher libido than I have, that's just a fact. We have been married for many years and have enjoyed a full and varied sex life, but now our libidos are changing. His is increasing and mine, well let's just say mine isn't. Don't get me wrong, I still enjoy sex, but somewhat less frequently than before.
I know he has had to suppress his desires more and more, just because I am not in the mood. So why not just give him a blow job? Or a hand job? A few minutes work and hop, job done. To be honest, when I'm not in the mood, I really am not in the mood. So I hit upon an idea.
We often fantasise when having sex and even now we get off on each-other's fantasies. His are much more graphic than mine. Mine tend to be all romantic and slushy whereas his, well some of his can be a bit wild, but that's what fantasies are for.
It occurred to me, why not make a fantasy a reality? OK not one of his really whacky ones, but a simple straightforward one. Why not allow him to satisfy his desires somewhere else?
I know what you're thinking. NO! NO! NO! But why? Where is the problem? I'm getting all I need and he isn't. It's the obvious answer. Monogamy, I am quite sure, is learned behaviour. Will I be jealous? I don't know, but I do not expect to be. If I thought I'd be jealous I should summon the enthusiasm to make love more often.
Our culture sets very arbitrary limits. You can eat with friends, dance with friends, play tennis with friends, do pretty much anything you like with friends, but you cannot have sex with friends: strange when you think about it.
Anyway what actually constitutes sex? A peck on the cheek was considered risqué in the sixties. An arm round the waste through a doorway? Hardly. A pat on the bum? A bit more daring. Touching a breast through clothing? Hardly grounds for saying a marriage has broken down irretrievably.
There is a long sliding scale and sure, once a penis is inside a vagina there is little doubt that the participants are having sex. But what about stroking a crotch through clothing? Sexual certainly, but is it sex? Try the same test with masturbation or oral. Somewhere along the line is sex and that probably varies from person to person.
Anyway I had already decided that he could have whatever definition of sex he chose with another woman. A man would probably be a bit too difficult to understand, but with whom? A prostitute? Too tacky. Some bimbo with pneumatic boobs? Hardly, anyway where would I find one?
No, I decided that this had to be a relationship, purely for sex, with someone I approved of. No candle lit dinners, no walking hand in hand through the park, no staring into each others eyes, just basically fucking each other for the sheer physical joy of fucking.
My problem was where to find such a person. We have plenty of friends, some of whom are a little too attentive to him, but I bet if I said.
"If you'd really like to fuck my husband, please go ahead." I would get some very funny looks and probably be banned from the bridge club. No it had to be more contrived so........the internet!
I went through any number of sites, checking on the format, the words used and so on and rejected most out of hand. However I found one that quite appealed, with senior in the title. I spent ages wording my advert very carefully.
WANTED
Sex friend for my sixty five year old husband. Must have high libido, be sexually adventurous and experienced, preferably slightly kinky. A dominant tendency would be an advantage. Age approx the same. Would suit lady wanting uncomplicated sex without any social attachment. No fees either way. Reply with photo (fully clothed please) and brief description of likes and dislikes. etc.
And I didn't have long to wait for a reply, they came flooding in! Mostly they were thinly disguised adverts from prostitutes, but a few were from "Attached lady" or "Single mature" and so on. I waded through these and made a shortlist eliminating the ones that obviously had baggage. I was unsure about 'attached' as it smacked of intrigue so I won't bore you with the details, but I chose carefully and arranged to meet Jessica at Costa for a coffee and a chat.
How we found each other, I cannot really remember exactly. It was all rather James Bond, and a copy of Good Housekeeping was involved. We started to chat, just like the strangers we were, and I liked her immediately, particularly as we shared a similar sense of humour.
Her shoulder length hair, once dark, was now a tasteful blond colour and she wore rectangular framed glasses that neatly set off her still pretty face. I couldn't help but size her up, after all it's not every day you interview someone to shag your husband. We were of about the same height, but she had a more curvaceous figure, and was clearly bigger in the breast department.
She was definitely a no nonsense person, with a forceful personality, and that made it easy to explain my problem and the full details of what was involved.
"I understand exactly what you mean." She said. "I've been on my own for a few years now. Had a few flings, as they say, but it all got too complicated. They all wanted to go out to lunch or, heaven forfend, move in. There is no way I am ever going to do another man's laundry or cook for him. No, I just want an uncomplicated physical arrangement. It's ironic that I now want what all those young men of my youth wanted, way back then, a good shag and goodnight!
"Socially, a romantic liaison is far too complicated. Can you imagine how difficult it would be to tell my twelve year old granddaughter that granny has a boyfriend? Let alone the thought that I should have to tell my grown up children that I have a live in lover!
"No, since I have been on my own I have learned to enjoy being on my own except for the lack of the physical. If the physical is what he needs, and I can see you are a very far sighted woman, then that's right up my street. All we need is compatibility."
"I suppose the next step is an introduction and then you two take it from there."
James' story.
So I'm groping around under the duvet, she's naked and I like that, but she has slept naked for the last forty years so it's no surprise. My hands run over her naked form. It's still delicious even after all these years. My hand comes to rest on a full breast, not as taught as it once was certainly, but still erotic, still enough to stir a slight movement in the erection department. Her comment comes as no surprise, at least the first bit doesn't.
"I'm really not in the mood sweetie, but I promise you a surprise tomorrow." A surprise tomorrow, are we making bookings? Or is it rather something not at all sexual?
So the bacon is grilled, the coffee made, and the eggs are gently doing in the pan. I like to cook breakfast.
"Sweetie, remember last night?" She says appearing on the stairs, her sensuous body barely concealed by a diaphanous peignoir. I so wish she didn't look so fucking sexy in the morning, just when my testosterone peaks.
"Of course." Hoping this is an invitation back to bed after breakfast. Well one can hope! Sadly, instead of my libido taking a downward turn with passing years, it has done quite the reverse. My wife is more normal.
"Well, I've been thinking. In fact I've done more than that and I've come to the conclusion that since your libido is much higher than mine we should do something about it."
"Not bromide in me tea." I quipped.
