Becoming Hers Pt. 04-2

She came with a shudder. I was close again.

“Fuck me with your little dickie.”

I came. It was surprisingly intense, given the fact that I had come less than an hour before. As I came down from my orgasm she snuggled up to me, her head on my chest. I was feeling a mixture of relief, shame, confusion, and the beginning of a nagging sense of guilt.

We lay for a few moments. Then she kissed me on the cheek and got up.

“Thank you, honey.”

We dressed in silence. As I got ready to go, I got out a hundred dollars and handed it to her. She laughed.

“Not necessary. All included.”

“What? I thought you said…”

“Part of game. You like?”

Well it would be silly to deny that it made me hot. I nodded.

“How did you know it would turn me on?”

“Just a hunch. I see lots of men like you who like it.”

“Here, take the money anyway. Tip for great service.”

“Thank you. You’re sweet and really you are not little.” She went from filthy talking to whore to innocent schoolgirl as she giggled bashfully.

I left the building after promising Judy that I would see her again. I didn’t know if I would. I didn’t know much of anything anymore and decided to walk home. The cold, long walk helped to clear my head a little bit.

It was getting late and I had left the grocery list at home but I figured I that remembered most of what we needed. I stopped to pick up a couple of bags of groceries and went home.

The apartment was quiet. It was around 9 PM, not too late. I put the groceries away and went upstairs. I was unsure exactly what I wanted but I did want, in some way, to connect with Sally. I opened the bedroom door.

She was sleeping soundly.

Chapter 20

Things had to change. My experience with Judy was revelatory, although I was still trying to figure out exactly what it revealed other than that I was an asshole. I still had a burning passion inside. Sexual humiliation was arousing. I wanted to see Sally passionate again even if it was not with me.

The first thing I did was to begin to cut back my hours at work. I would aim to get home by six most nights. It was uncomfortable at first. I was one of the first professionals out the door and would receive looks. I think that after I screwed up the uranium position people thought that I was on my way down the ladder anyway. Maybe they even, for a fraction of a second, felt sorry for me. Bastards.

I hadn’t been home at six in months. Having dinner at home with Sally and the kids was great. I had the energy afterwards to do the dishes, play with the kids, and after putting them to sleep Sally and I watched some TV. I could feel her thaw a bit. We enjoyed each other’s company and while we didn’t have sex that night, it was a good night.

And then the next night I did it again. Sally wasn’t quite sure what to make of this. My children were delighted. After I put them to sleep Sally told me about her day and I could see her more visibly relaxed. I felt it too. I was far happier than I had been in a while.

The third day I stopped on the way home for flowers. It was Sally’s turn to be delighted. That night, after I had done the dishes and put the kids to bed, I asked if she wanted to watch TV again with me.

“No. Can we talk?”

“Sure.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know what your job is like. All of sudden, you’re home early, and not just once. Did something happen?”

“Kind of. I realized how much you and the kids mean to me and I… just needed to try. You have seemed so distant lately, like there’s a wall between us.”

She sat looking at me, silently urging me to continue. I told her about what was happening at work and how unhappy the whole situation was making me.

“Are you worried? About work? Will we be okay?”

“They can’t really fire me but it’s true that I might make less money this year. We should be okay. Maybe down the line we would need to cut back.”

“I would like that.”

“Like what?”

“Cutting back. Is that odd to say? I feel like an imposter living like this. It was simpler when I had less.”

“You never told me.”

“How could I? I thought that this was what you wanted. I thought that this was what I wanted. It’s not that I don’t appreciate all the great things that we have, the apartment, the things we do. I really do. But I hardly see my friends and my family treats me differently now that we have so much more than they do. The other mothers are snotty and there seems to be endless jockeying for status. I can’t even figure out who stands where, or how one moves up or down!

“I love our kids. And I love that I don’t have to work, or at least I did. But I failed at school and I worry about failing as a mom. You are — were — never home and I felt like a failure as a wife.”

We sat quietly for a few minutes. She sniffled. I took her hand.

“You’re not a failure. It is I who failed you.”

She began to cry, softly at first but then it picked up.

“What have we lost? Is there any way we can get it back?” she asked.

I didn’t have an answer so I remained silent.

“I’m on Prozac.”

“You never told me?”

“A couple of years now. When the kids were little I felt myself becoming more depressed so my doctor prescribed it for me. I knew how busy you were and didn’t want to disturb you with it. I thought it would be temporary.”

“Sexually?” I probed gingerly. I knew that there were sexual side-effects although I also knew that our issues were not only, or even primarily, drug related.

“I haven’t felt much lately. I don’t know what is related to the drug — which really has helped — and what I can attribute to the rest of my life. My desire has been very low, though, and when I do…touch myself…I don’t feel very much. I don’t know when the last time I came was.”

We had not had much sex and when we did it had been rather listless. Could I have missed the fact for two years that she hadn’t had an orgasm with me, when before it was so easy? Could I have been that selfish? She seemed to read my mind.

“Sometimes I faked it, so you wouldn’t feel bad.” A pause. “Do you still desire me?”

“I have felt blocked. I used to be so alive with passion — for you. Now…. I don’t know. I want to feel what I felt before.”

We hugged each other. It was comforting.

“What can I do to help you feel better?”

“I don’t know. Just do what you’re doing now. When was the last time we even talked like this?”

It had been a while. We went to bed and we were both too emotionally spent to make love. The next night, though, we did, and it was a relief. We may not have our passion back, but I felt like we were moving in the right direction.

Chapter 21

I realized that no single thing would restore our marriage and recover our passion for each other. It was going to be a process. I knew where we needed to start although I was uncertain about where it would go. Or if it would get there at all.

I worked on two fronts. On one, I continued to do what I had begun to do. I came home for dinner most nights of the week, although I knew that this was beginning to cause a stir in the office. I brought home small gifts on a regular basis. I offered to do more housework. I encouraged her to take evenings here and there to go out and have a good time with her old friends. We began socializing as a couple with her old friends as well. Now, like us, all married and with children. Despite the vast economic gap between us, it was usually fun.

On the other front, though, I worked to add some more variety into our sex life. Sally was too shy to introduce new things into our bedroom. She was too shy even to tell me what she liked and wanted, always deflecting that conversation. I began by buying sex toys, which we had rarely used. It was unbelievable to me how many kinds of dildos and vibrators there were and I had no idea how to choose. I first went with something that a few web reviews called an “introductory rabbit.” I had seen rabbits before of course but close up it was actually kind of a scary contraption with a wire to large control compartment that held the batteries. The shaft rotated while the rabbit ears, placed on her clit, vibrated. It took a little while to learn how to position everything but once we did — wow, she liked it. I would first use manual simulation on her while sucking her breasts before sliding the vibrator into her. That would make her come once or twice before she desperately wanted to fuck me. Our sex life dramatically improved and we began to experiment with some of the different models and types of toys. We played around with butt plugs and restraints, both of which she liked. We were acquiring quite a collection and I was getting concerned about storing them so that our kids didn’t discover them. I could imagine the drawer full of plastic cocks and restraints scaring the bejesus out of them.

It took almost a year, but Sally’s sex drive was coming back. Our relationship had certainly improved, but there was still something missing. I was so concerned with her pleasure that I had put my own to the side. It was not that I didn’t enjoy sex with her — I certainly did, especially when she was fired up. But still.

I was brooding about this one evening. The children were asleep and we were reading in the bedroom. Sally was in an old flannel nightgown. She put her book down and cuddled with me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why do you think something is wrong?”

“I know. You look upset.”

“How are we doing?”

“A lot better. I know that you put effort into our relationship and I am really glad you did. I remembered why I married you.”

“But things still aren’t like they were, are they?”

“When?”

“When we met, were dating. In the first years of our marriage.”

She sighed with just the hint of a chuckle.

“No, I guess not. Isn’t that always true? We did used to be more passionate.”

We lay in silence a couple of minutes.

“I miss that,” I said. “That passion — you made me come alive. I never felt so alive when I desired you. Now….” I trailed off.

“Do you love me?” she asked.

“I love you very much.”

“I love you too. I know. I can feel it from you. I love making love with you but I also wonder what happened and sometimes miss what we had. Remember when you took me in the shower, soon after we met?”

“Yes, I sure do.”

“When was the last time we did that?” Neither of us could remember. “Why?”

“Why? When? I’m rushing out in the morning, you seem uninterested. I don’t know. I am having trouble discovering the passion again.”

“Hmmmmm. I have an idea but you can’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh?”

“I don’t know, but you can’t.”

I promised I wouldn’t laugh.

Sally got out of bed and retrieved her iPad. She tapped a little and then handed it to me.

“Take a look at this and tell me what you think. I’ll be back in a little bit.” She disappeared into the bathroom.

The iPad browser was open to a Tumblr site. The site was devoted to hotwives and cuckolding. Mainly, it had pictures with captions. One picture had a hot woman in a slinky dress that was half off kissing a hot man, his white shirt unbuttoned. The caption read, “You let him touch me. You let him go down on me. You let him make me cum. Now you’re going to let him fuck me… and everyone else I want to.” Another showed a woman reclining, kissing one man while another went down on her. “With every experience,” the caption read, “another taboo falls.” Another had a close up of a woman bending over, her naked ass and bare pussy on display with come all over her. “You wanted to fuck me after he came in my pussy. Here’s your chance.” There were gifs of various sexy scenes, some video clips of amateur wives fucking, their husbands filming or joining in. There were screenshots of text exchanges between husbands and wives as the wives seduced other lovers. I was completely turned on by this site, but also disturbed. Maybe better, as I realized, being disturbed also made me turned on.

Sally came back dressed in a sheer negligee. She straddled my lap.

“What do you think?” She was interested but cautious, afraid that I would make fun of her.

“That site is hot. How did you, um, find it? Does it turn you on?”

“When you go to work, sometimes, and the kids are at school, you know, I sometimes get bored. I was looking through some porn, which I don’t do a lot but I do sometimes. And I just kind of stumbled on this hotwife site. There are thousands of them! Of course it turned me on a little — to be fucked by a handsome stranger as my husband watched, jealous? Or to be the object of the desire of two men? Mostly, though, I was turned on by the idea of how I imagined you would react. Would you be jealous and desire me like you used to? Would you be hurt? I would never want to hurt you.”

I was getting increasingly turned on and realized that as she was talking she was also rubbing her pussy over my cock. Could I imagine watching her fuck another man? I could, and it aroused and disgusted me at the same time.

“Steven, would you like to watch another man fuck me?”

Her wet slit moved rapidly over my cock and suddenly I couldn’t control myself. I came. I was embarrassed.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Sorry for what?” she said, smiling.

“I don’t know what happened to me. I wanted to satisfy you.”

“You did. I know the answer now.”

To be continued…

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