A Few Words On The Reason Why My Marriage Is Sexless And Why I Like To Chat To Other Men About It.

Thought it a nice idea to share a little history of my own liking for sharing wife pics with other husbands around the same age or older. There is something alluring about 2 guys with the same kind of life experiences swapping stories and inner thoughts, hope you know what I mean.

I posted a few faceless pictures at wifelovers with a message beckoning similarly minded UK men to get in touch. I guess the fleshy pictures of my wife are the bait then it's good to suss them out quickly to see if they are (for some reason) time wasters. It's good then to connect and meet minds with guarded stories to share. It's nice to be open, honest and almost care free. Exciting to hear another man comment on what he'd do to your wife given half a chance. I suppose it is the less brave way of dabbling in wife swapping, which I would imagine if handled well could be a very nice experience.

So it's nice to hear what they have to say, and explain my own odd story. I've been married for 19 years now, I'm 42 and my wife is 43....we have 3 kids. Ok, so that's probably pretty common. We were both virgins when married, so I kind of took the lead and we experimented before the kids came along and jaded the whole experience (just being honest). Kids are great of course, but I couldn't eat a whole one!!

So, when pregnancy interrupted our little attempts to see what this sex nonsense was all about, moreover it became difficult and I remember being shunned frequently as I prodded around looking for some; well I was a horny boy who would frequently huff and feel sorry for myself for not getting any. I suppose year after year; child, 1 then 2, then 3.......so you can imagine how that got. A little resentment I suppose. However I had learned to control myself and stop looking for something that was continually refused. I don’t want to sound maudlin, but it can affect you greatly, create unhappiness if it goes unaddressed. I’m no marriage councillor, but can’t be healthy.

So I’m going to cut an awful long story considerably shorter and gloss over the fact I had a couple of affairs, one of which she found out about, which created a good deal of unhappiness for a while. Still I wasn’t going to leave her, and my 3 kids, and well, I’m a nice, decent guy, and I loved my wife, albeit in a frustratingly realistic manner. When the internet came along I found myself turning to good ole ****, then discovering inner thoughts, which I saw as too dark to let surface to start with. This bit’s odd, but I got into a continual cycle of wanking, of fantasising about other women to start with, sometimes having kinky calls and generally allowing myself to wander the dark haven of the internet.

On the occasional time when we did have sex I found myself allowing these thoughts and fantasies to creep into my biggest sex organ (my brain); and they excited me more, fuelling the moment to lead to a heart beating ******. I don’t think my wife quite got it to start with when sometimes I would let slip a fragment of fantasy to become audible , she picked up on it quick, possibly seeing it as a quick route to my coming, and played along, seeing me almost shake with the sheer erotic thought process. So the sessions became more frequent and I’d fill my head with enough images of her being treated well and made love to by someone else. My sexual abilities just disintegrated, when the thoughts of her with another man seeped in I could do nothing to stave off a hasty ***********.

 It suited us both at the time. I was busying myself at work trying to eek out a career. She was coping with a part time job and of course 3 demanding kids. Our sex life routine consisted of me with a hardon, her with a little bit of playing along, and hey presto, as quick as you like, over – and time to sleep before those bloody kids awaken.

This went on, obviously as you can imagine, evolving in my own mind, each part of the fantasy developing and, with the help of a very obliging wife, who probably didn’t understand what the hell it was all about, the ******* quicker...and quicker. And then curiosity a bit from her side, the constant nagging of mine when I was looking for that adrenalin sex rush to come fourth. We started taking it a little bit further; she let me take photos of her being sexy, then in undies, then a little more revealing.

Then I bought her a vibrator (one of my better decisions) and she started to learn to enjoy it, seeing how it could be added to our, almost becoming nightly, little exchanges of words of in the dark about who would be excited to make lover to her in our own marital bed. It grows it grows.

So I witnessed her advance into middle age when her libido seemed to start to sparkle. The kids, now less demanding, and often out, gave us more time to develop the scenarios, the role play that now seemed to have a life all of its own. It became almost odd, but with her mature years a finally a little bit of confidence I saw her become surer of herself and really start to bloom.

The problem was now, that I was actually incapable of giving her a good seeing to, which with frequent playing with the toy, had seen her grow a new appetite, one that I struggled to keep up with. I would sometimes try and do the right thing and give her a proper ****, but would fail miserably and so we had entered a critical section of when she started saying’ I need ******, I need so-and-so to do it, and I need it now,’ I was genuinely believing her. It had turned; the fantasies had grown legs, and like a virus had spread from my head to hers and the marriage dynamics exploded.

So time meandered, I often thought when she was out that something might occur, and would sit and wait, heart thumping, expecting a fresh cream pie to be put on my tongue. But no. My wife had always been a shy girl, and despite her now deeply wishing for something to occur, she wasn’t truly expecting it to, so she continued to enjoy the fantasy play and was now so skilled at being able to bring herself off; the routine would be that she’d wait until I’d spat out my meagre offering and then proceed to fantasise about her ‘real man’.

So the story jumps now with not much apart from a lot of the above.  I go to about 3 years ago from time of writing, she was helping out the neighbours of her parents,  a couple that she’d knew for years, grow up of course over the garden fence from them, as the lady had terminal illness – so she helped out with cooking, cleaning.....well you don’t want to hear this stuff, but this went on for almost 6 months before the woman finally passed away. It was a few months before she saw the widower again, a gent named George, who she had of course, through such a difficult time, grown fond of, and would often still visit, cook and generally be a decent human being to the guy.  Our night-time rendezvous weren’t as abundant at this time, I was stressed out at work after having been given a decent promotion. Then during a bit of a drunken dabble in the early hours following a family wedding where George was also a guest, as I urged her to play along with my chain of thought, she uttered his name under her breath – wow it was toxic, so hot, so very real and a blatant glimpse of thoughts she had concealed.  I was transfixed, and I could tell she was more excited than ever with the frenzied exchange of things he could do to her. I have to pause here as remembering how sexually charged, really gets me physically shaking.

For a bit his name would crop up more and more, she’d be visiting him more and more, and I thought I’d better try and speak about it with a level head. No she wasn’t having an affair with him, she truthfully proclaimed, but she said she was extremely fond of him and knew also he reciprocated those feelings. We talked about it openly, and then I suggested she take him as her lover. I recall the moment I said it, she paused and didn’t look me in the eye at all, she was crying also, which stole any sexual energy that might have been starting to buzz in my head.  We addressed it though, we did spend time speaking in a realistic situation,  a line that once crossed has no way of getting back.

We agreed that we wouldn’t use it to fuel our ongoing fantasies, after all this was a guy in his late sixties, who might well not be at all interested in sex. She thought not though, and told me a few stories of where skin accidentally touched, or a certain look was noticed but not quite acknowledged.  It excited me inside, but I’d promised not to use it was an erotic thought. I desperately held my demon within.

My wife finally started seeing George, and they found abandon in a healthy sex life, good old fashioned bonking, without the need to spice it up with fantasy. Something that I now seemed totally removed from. But I accepted it, I enjoyed seeing her growing more in confidence – it wasn’t the way I’d pictured it all those years. They kept their bedroom activities private, she would occasionally stay over at his house (which was sometimes a challenge as remember he stayed next door to her parents). George knew that I knew, and she told him I didn’t mind as due to diabetes was unable to get an erection. She never told him about my fantasy and the extent of our sex life over the years, she thought George wouldn’t understand and would be nervous about being involved in such a way.  So their affair blossomed. It spiralled along strongly for almost 2 full years, hidden from sight, although I think many people we knew suspected. But how would they bring up a subject like that?

May 2009 George made the decision he was going to immigrate to live with his daughter in Canada.  The affair ended, she wasn’t upset, not as much as I thought she would be, it was easily accepted that it had run its course and George needed to build a life elsewhere.

So he flew off. They had their past night together at our house, The kids had been packed away to grandparents and she told George I was away for the weekend with friends, the only lie she had ever told him in all their time together, actually I was keeping myself hidden in the spare bedroom right through the wall from ours. She had decided she’d allow this, now that it was coming to an end she would reward me by letting me hear them together.

Ironically, I remember quietly shaking under the spare bed covers when I finally heard them go to bed. I found out later that they’d done it downstairs before coming up, but I was not to know that at the time. I heard a little giggling and as soon as I placed my hand on my stiffening ****, I came with a silent gasp.

I listened as if my life depended on it. Every time I heard a single noise I would hold my breath and concentrate on what it might be. My own ears and brain collaborated a few times in making me fill in gaps and look for certain noises that weren’t even there, but it was a good 20 minutes into this silent concentration when I finally heard sounds that had meaning and painted the oh so erotic images on the canvas of my imagination. The sounds, the reality – it suddenly dawned on me, but at least my **** had recovered from its early departure and through this awareness within my tingling groin, I could hear the distinct sounds of a couple doing what should come naturally. Along with a rhythmic motion of perhaps mattress or headboard, my heart banged itself in my chest like never before. God I hope I survive this experience. I was starting to think how good this will be for a long time to come as **** fodder, the exact moment I suppose when it all became so so real.

Their lovemaking continued, and I heard the distinct sound of my wife, a sound I was familiar with hearing when she used her toys, only this time the sound was interspersed with a deep moa or grunt or just general affirmation as to what a nice time was being had by both. My wife got louder, her yelps a little longer each time as the headboard-against-the-wall sound started to join in. Finally a prolonged ecstatic cry out and then a sudden invasion of silence. I realised my hard on has long since departed, another trail of warm white fluid over my thigh. Despite the erection having disappeared, my heart and psyche still pounded in the aftermath of the closest I had been to their ongoing affair.

The next morning they made love again, I’ll not bother going through it blow by blow, but I still felt nothing but excitement; no jealously, regret or sadness about what our marriage now meant, just the realisation that after all these years of this being in the forefront of my mind, it had finally become stark cravingly real.

He departed around 10am, and as soon as I heard the door close I was through to wallow a little in what aftermath there might be. She looked a little guilty, which wasn’t expected but it was nice to see. I think she wasn’t sure how I’d actually be with everything becoming so real. She said she’d been worried that I would reveal myself at some point in the evening, but was so glad I hadn’t. She was soon aware how I was about it, could sense my continuing excitement so she whispered, again something I didn’t expect, did I want to feel her. My hand darted under the duvet, she held her stare right to my eyes, I began to trace around her slightly swollen lips and then found a few fingers start to feel inside the warmth of my wife’s satisfied vagina. She was wet, wet and still quite open. We lay down together on the bed that had been the centre of this whole experience. The covers were untidy and dishevelled; the scent in the room was familiar yet strange as it combined a smell I was so used to, along with a slightly alien aroma so obviously belonging to the not long departed George.

So their contact ended. George sends the odd e mail, but it’s a closed book now. As I started out to say, now I’ve started posting some of the photo’s I’d taken of her over the years and as I’m able to get the mood right for taking new ones. She doesn’t know I post them, And of course I wouldn’t post her face. But I enjoy the chance to share and speak to other husbands who may have similar experiences. Oh hell, or am I really that weird?

At the moment our sexual role playing isn’t much on the agenda. I’m stressed out still at work and we never seem to actually go to bed at the same time. I have mentioned to her if she intends to find someone else as a lover, but she’s kind of not that bothered. I hope she does, not for the sordid fantasy side of the reasons, but for her – she deserves to have a decent sex life. I think all of the above makes that very obvious. Of course she’ll not want me to dabble, I simply cannot invite any old tom, **** or harry to come by and shag her. It doesn’t work that way for her. She acknowledges my fantasy now and then, perhaps now she’s bored with it, especially as she’s had a taste of what a genuine healthy sex life can be like. She does prefer older guys, she has told me that often enough.

Well that’s it for now, the update from 2 weeks ago isn’t a great deal to share. She had a one night stand and actually she’s annoyed with herself for doing so. Different story.

Ok?

 

gratiscali gratiscali
41-45, M
2 Responses Feb 20, 2010

Yeah, you're really that weird. Posting someone's nude photos on the internet without their permission is pretty sleazy and would get you shot in my house.

I can not wait for the movie to come out.