This story will have at least three parts. Somewhere in the three parts these things will show up: (they are not listed in order of appearance) new bras, menopause, a funeral, dildos, honesty, a 4some, mfmf, mmf, mfm, mm, a cruise, a crocodile, trading husbands/wives, sex toys, suckling, nudity, harnesses, coitus and oral sex.
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"Honey, we need to talk."
Every time she ever said those words it meant something was wrong, from her perspective. I was sitting at the table eating breakfast. A breakfast I made for myself, I might add. She sat down with me, carrying her cup of coffee and a burnt piece of toast.
"Ok," I said, "You talk, I'll listen."
"You know I love you, right?" She leaned towards me as she asked. I took a bite of eggs and nodded. I'd heard her tell me she loves me for twenty years. She could have ended our marriage hundreds if not thousands of times, and she didn't. Every infraction from forgetting her birthday to almost burning down the house during a bar-b-que could have triggered a divorce, but she didn't divorce me. Ok, she loves me.
"I'm about done with sex." She leaned forward to tell me she loves me and leans back to tell me were done having sex. What's that about? We had sex last night! I put my fork down and looked her in the face.
"Can I get you to explain that last statement? Please."
"We're both getting older. I don't look as good as I used to and my body doesn't respond the way it used to. I don't get turned on the way I used to."
"We did it last night. I didn't go to sleep thinking damn, she's ugly. What happened to the babe I married twenty years ago? I went to sleep thinking I'm still the luckiest man I know."
"Thank you." She took a big breath. "Ok, I don't want you to take this the wrong way. For the last year or so when we've had sex, I didn't have an orgasm. You're just not able to last long enough to get me there. I still like how it feels to do it, but I lay there after you're asleep frustrated. Last night I played with myself after you were asleep."
"You wait a year to tell me about this? What the hell? Would you wait a year to tell me the faucet leaked or the furnace didn't light? There's nothing in the world I can do about something that started a year ago!"
"This is why I didn't say anything. I knew you'd take it the wrong way."
"Oh. So tell me the right way to hear that for at least the last year I've failed as your lover. That last night you were frustrated and had to diddle yourself because I didn't satisfy you!"
"I still love you. I still love living with you, being your wife."
"I hear you. Sex with me is so exciting that you'd prefer to give it up completely rather than find a way to have it work for both of us. Is that about it?"
""You do the best you can, it just doesn't get me there anymore. The problem is mine, not yours."
"If I couldn't get hard, would you help me get hard or would you say, "That's your problem?"
"I've helped you get hard plenty of times. I like doing it."
"Now you tell me you have a problem getting an orgasm, but you don't want my help. In fact you want to quit having sex because you don't have orgasms any more. The message I get is that unless you have an orgasm it isn't worth the effort to spread your legs for me. You came to tell me that my sex life is over because I didn't give you an orgasm in the last year!"
"I hate going to sleep frustrated and I hate having to play with myself to get there."
"Ok. How about if I play with you until you get there and then I get between your legs until I get there too? Wouldn't that work?"
"It takes a long time for me to get there."
"I don't care! We can go to the bedroom right after dinner or right after Jeopardy. I'm not on a schedule that can't change! Hell, woman, give me two hours of eating pussy! I'll count it as exercise and love every minute of it!"
"But that's nasty."
"No. Nasty is being unsatisfied for a year and keeping it a secret! Nasty is giving up!"
"Ok. Next time you have the urge and want to have sex we'll try something different. Maybe we can work it out. I just don't want you to think it's your fault if I don't have an orgasm."
"I won't. I'll blame you and yell at you loud enough that the neighbors know you didn't cum! Be serious. If there's a problem, it's shared. Blame has nothing to do with it."
She kissed my cheek and left the table. My eggs were cold, her coffee was cold and her burnt toast could be used as a shingle. By the time I was dressed and ready for my day our sexual problem had been pushed into the background. Not very far in the background, but into the background. My brother called and they were having a problem with their plumbing. I'd spent thirty years as a plumber, so he called me.
I spent half the day under his house. While I moved things in his basement to get to the clean out where I believed the obstruction could be cleared, I found a box. When I moved it the lid opened and I was amazed. The box was filled with sex things. With a major effort I set the box aside and went back to work on the plumbing. What I wanted to do was to explore the contents of the box.
I kept wondering why my brother had a box of sex things in his basement. I opened the clean out and got the pipes cleared. I called to my brother upstairs and had him run water through the pipes to make sure we solved to problem. As the water ran I heard the phone ring upstairs. A few minutes later he came down the stairs and let me know he owed me one and that he had to go to his job at the credit union. I said I'd put things back where they belonged and lock up before I went home.
He thanked me and said there were cold beers in the fridge.
I heard the back door open and close, his car start and drive away. I put the basement back together and sat down with "the box". On the top of everything in the box was a dildo. It was about ten inches long and much bigger around than my cock had ever been, even in my dreams. It was in a Zip-Lock bag, telling me it had been used and cleaned and stored in a bag to keep it clean. I set it aside, wondering how Marcie liked that big purple dong in her.
There were two different lubes. One in a jar and one in a tube like toothpaste. I set them aside. In a smaller box I found two smaller dildos. Both with batteries and a switch that was marked lo-off-hi. One had a small appendage that I gathered was to stimulate her clit while the larger part was inside her.
I wondered how my brother convinced Marcie to use these things. Then I wondered if she used them because my brother was as lousy a lover as I had just found out I was.
I found two small tubes about two inches long with suction devices sticking out to the side. I wondered what they were for and then it hit me, they were for applying suction to Marcie's nipples! At that realization my penis began to swell. I had a vision of Marcie standing in front of me with the two suction things attached to her breasts and me watching and listening to her moan.
At the bottom of the box was a catalog filled with sex toys and things. I looked through it and found something that caught my interest. There was a strap on dildo and at first I thought it was for lesbians, but I noticed it was hollow and the ad said it was for men who didn't last as long as they wanted to last! I got a piece of paper and turned the catalog over to get their address. I wanted to order that strap-on!
I wrote the web address down and noticed the catalog had been sent to Marcie! This box of toys wasn't my brother's; it was his wife's! I was shocked for a second or forty and then realized Marcie dressed a bit sexier than Sue, joked a little more blue than Sue and my brother still blushed more often than I did.
A stair creaked and I looked towards the stairs. Marcie was standing there looking at me, smiling. I know I blushed and tried to speak, but nothing came out.
