It was supposed to be a great weekend. But then I was supposed to have the perfect wife! All I wanted was a chance to fish a little, drink some beer, and just relax. I had a good job, but it was very stressful. I had planned this little escape for a month and Nan had known about it from the beginning.
It all started on Friday night, just as I was getting all my gear together for my trip to the mountains. Nan came out to the garage and dropped her little bomb.
âMy mother called. She said Aunt Maureen is not doing well and that we should see her soon, if we ever wanted to see her again.â
I should have been more sensitive. I know that now. I just blurted, âI really donât feel any need to ever see her again, so this is no problem. Besides, she has had a foot in the grave since I met you, and before that, from what your dad says.â
I received no response. Bad sign, I thought to myself. I looked at Nan. She had that look that is hard to describe, but all married men know. It was a combination of anger and the need to punish, to demonstrate control. It is the look that is supposed to make a guy drop to his knees and beg to be forgiven, so they can refuse and torture you for an undetermined number of days, or weeks. This was going to be a problem. That was obvious.
Why should a man fear a woman that barely tips the scales at 100 pounds and is just 2 inches over five feet? I have my own theory, the same one most men subscribe to. Womenâs power stems from that little triangle between their legs. That is the club they hold over you. It is the Kryptonite that turns the strongest fellow to a cowardly, spineless weakling. That is their power. But women forget, as their hormones alter their body chemistry, that the Kryptonite will lose its power if it is not used. I donât mean every day, but a man has to get a piece of ass a few times a month if a woman expects to maintain the power.
If you arenât getting any, the threat of being shut off has no effect, does it? Women learn about the power when they are young and enjoy getting laid. They use it to keep men in line and under control. Somewhere after 20 years or so, they begin to forget the source of the power and think it is simply fear that makes a man weak.
Most men would rather walk into a bear den than brace their wife and lose her favors for an extended period. As we stay in a relationship longer, we begin to realize that we arenât getting those favors, regardless of how many hoops we jump through. That makes the threat of withholding those favors moot. Men begin to actually think for themselves. They are freed from their shackles!
They can fish, drink beer with buddies, tell dirty jokes, and just plain have fun. This is very disturbing to the female. Many times they donât know why their influence has waned. Female control had become a habit for both spouses. Then the husband emerges from the fog and looks around. His head becomes clear and life calls to him. This lack of sex has advantages, he realizes. The truth has set him free! He ainât getting any, and he ainât going to get any, so why the Hell would he kowtow to some creature half his body weight? That was the revelation I had recently enjoyed.
It wasnât that I didnât want sex, and enjoy it when I did get it. I simply came to accept I was not going to get it more than a few times a year. There were always reasons (excuses) but the results were the same. No sex. The lengths I was expected to travel to get it kept increasing. Then she developed the theory that if I was hard, I was ready for sex. (I canât really see any fault with that logic.) There was no need to caress, fondle, and play with a hard cock. It was ready, so why waste time and effort? Certainly sucking that little guy was not an option!
The flip side was, she had to be wined, dined, licked, played with, and given some costly bauble, just for the opportunity to be considered for a shot at that little triangle. Then you climb that mountain and are almost home, after some of the hardest effort you can imagine, and you slip and say one little thing that âspoils the moodâ. You do not pass go and do not receive any pussy.
Eventually it becomes so much easier and less frustrating to just watch the ball game, or go fishing. The fact that you stop asking isnât noticed for the first few months. She is glad you arenât bothering her. Eventually it dawns on her you havenât been putting out the effort she so enjoys crushing. One of her single greatest pleasures has been taken from her! She wonders if you are having an affair and watches your every move. Of course, you arenât dumb enough to get involved with another chunk of Kryptonite.
You are free and content. She is concerned and dismayed. Funny how it all balances out. She experiments with you, seeing how much effort you are willing to expend for that little slit. By now you have a clear head and really donât want to play the game. If she wants to get laid, she should get some lubricant and let you climb on. Forget all the wining and dining and one-sided foreplay!
âWe will drive down tomorrow and visit Maureen. You can fish any time. This is more important,â stated Nan with a finality that really pissed me off.
âI have made my plans and I am keeping them. Maureen doesnât even know who you are, much less who I am. Cherish the memories of better days. I have been looking forward to this fishing trip for a long time and it will take something more important than a 90-year old aunt that canât recognize herself in a mirror, to ruin it,â I declared.
âYou are such a selfish, self-centered bastard!â yelled Nan. âGo fishing! I donât really care if you ever come back.â
That was fine with me and it would have not been too bad. We have had words like that before and gotten over it. This time I made a mistake. I allowed Nan to see why I had such freedom and clarity!
âDonât expect any sex, either. I donât want you to ever touch me again,â screamed Nan. That put me over the edge.
I started laughing. It wasnât a pleasant laugh, but it was heartfelt. âI am stunned! After getting laid every night for 20 years, how will I survive?â I asked. âOld lefty has always served me well. It is just you and I, old Buddy!â I snickered.
I held up my left hand and gave it a kiss. Nan just stared at me and I saw understanding in her eyes. Her threat had no effect, because I was already living the life of a monk. She turned and stomped back into the house and I finished my preparations.
Later that evening I was watching TV, alone, when the phone rang. I listened as Nan answered it in the kitchen. She was speaking very low, so I sneaked over by the door to listen. The gist was that Aunt Maureen was doing much better and there was no need to panic. The entire argument was unnecessary. Arenât they all?
When bedtime came, our bedroom door was locked. Nan had decided to punish me by not allowing me access to my bed. That didnât concern me so much, but I needed clothes and things for my early morning departure. I knocked and tried to explain the situation through the door. Nan yelled for me to go to Hell and I stalked down the hall to the guest room. I was fuming.
Sleep did not come easy that night. I was up at five and tried our bedroom door again. It was still locked. I had stewed all night and I was in an ugly mood. Why couldnât I just get my stuff and go fishing? She would have the house to herself and be rid of me till Sunday.
I backed up a couple feet and lunged against the door. The jamb splintered and the door flew open. Nan sat up, instantly awake. She started to say something, but the look on my face gave her pause. I threw my fishing clothes in a duffel bag and walked out to the car. We never spoke.
I had promised Dan that I would pick him up at six and I was only a few minutes late. He came striding out of his apartment complex with a smile and a case of beer under his arm.
âWhat a great day for fishing, Steve! I have all the staples right here,â he laughed as he patted the beer. âLet me get my tackle and we can get started.â
In a few minutes we were headed for the best fishing in three counties. I must have been acting grim because Dan asked why I was so glum.
âYou are single, Dan, so you wouldnât understand. Nan was a pain in the ass. I just wanted to have a nice relaxed weekend. The funny part is she told me I was shut off, and I havenât been getting any anyway!â I lamented.
âThat is why I am single, Steve,â replied Dan. âI found there are a lot of women out there. If they feel they have to work to keep you, or please you, they will. If they become complacent, or too certain you are under their control, they shit all over you.â
âYou are exactly right,â I agreed. âShe has lost interest in pleasing me. I sometimes wish she would have an affair just to increase her interest in sex. I would be likely to get some, even if it was guilt-driven. Any sex is good, isnât it?â
Dan laughed, âThat has always been my experience. You need to shake your wife up a little. Thatâs all.â
âShit!â I yelled. âI was so pissed off I forgot my tackle box and my license! I am sorry Dan, but I have to go back and get them or I wonât dare fish. I have heard of a few guys getting fined pretty good.â
âNo problem, Steve. It wonât take that long since we donât have to swing by my place. We can get your stuff and be headed out in an hour or so. I can show you how to handle women if the wife gives you any shit,â laughed Dan.
âYou never met my wife! I just hope she doesnât have me arrested or something,â I responded.
I enjoyed Danâs company. We worked for the same company and had hit it off from the day he started there. He was a big guy. He used to play on the defensive line at Notre Dame and he was still in good shape. He was not a guy to have angry with you.
When we pulled into my drive, I noticed the door was not closed entirely. The garbage was sitting by the door. It looked like Nan had started to take it out to the corner and was side tracked. That would not be unusual. She was prone to neglecting, or forgetting details. I pushed the door open and looked inside. Nan was not in sight and I began to think I should just grab my stuff from the garage and leave, but the door being opened worried me.
I heard some muttering or something in the kitchen so I quietly went over and looked in. It took a minute for me to figure out what Nan was doing. It appeared that she had gotten her long hair caught in the garbage disposal. She must have hit the switch just in time to keep from being pulled into the thing. As it was, she was bent over the sink with her face against the back of the sink. She was completely helpless and essentially blind. There was no way she could see me, or anything else. The backside of the sink was the most she could see. I had cautioned her several times about her hair and the inevitable had happened.
Nan was wearing a short robe. It hardly covered her ass and it had opened in front. Her breasts were swaying as she squirmed and mumbled into the sink. I heard a low gasp and turned to see Dan behind me. He was looking over my shoulder at Nan. He raised his finger to his lips, telling me not to speak.
He quietly walked around me toward Nan. âWell, lady you seem to be trapped,â he boomed.
Nan was so surprised she almost feinted. âW-w-who is that? Can you please help me? I canât get my hair out of this damn thing! Will you help me?â pleaded Nan.
âSure, I will be glad to help you lady,â chuckled Dan.
He placed his big hand on her back and Nan flinched. He slowly ran it down to her ass and squeezed her ass. Nan started moving around with her ass and feet, but there was really no place she could go. Dan reached under Nan and grabbed a breast. Now he was kneading her ass and squeezing a breast! My cock started to throb as I watched Dan feeling up my wife of 22 years.
 
                             
                         
                         
                         
                         
                         
                                 
                                 
                                 
                                