A Change in Marital StatusbyScorpio44a©
Dave opened a beer and started his computer. It was almost eleven on a Wednesday evening. After the computer finished start-up he clicked into his calendar program. At the bottom of the date box for "Today" the number 366 showed.
Dave looked at the number and whispered to himself, "That's it then."
He shut down the calendar program and went to the internet. He found what he was looking for and began registering. Fifteen minutes later he was looking through the listings for the people who fit the "Looking for:" format he had filled out.
He thought, 'I gave her a year. It was one year ago tomorrow she said she didn't want to have sex any more. I propositioned or offered her a sexual opportunity once a week for fifty-two weeks. I did everything I could think of to inspire something within her to rekindle the lust or affection that had disappeared. Her answer didn't change.' As he filled out the forms his thoughts were about his disappointment in his relationship with his wife, the possibility of something wonderful from the web site and the possibility that looking for a sex partner could cost him his marriage.
He paid for a three-month membership. By eleven-thirty he was registered, paid and had written six nearly identical introduction letters to six women who lived within a hundred mile drive from home.
By midnight he was in bed beside his wife, Ruth. He had changed from feeling dissed to feeling hopeful. Their bed was just about the worst place he went every day. Not because Ruth was mean, nasty or even sarcastic. She wasn't. She was a pleasant woman to live with, except. Except, she slept nude. Except, she possessed two incredible breasts that Dave had loved to look at, loved to touch, suck on, rub lotion on for all the years they had known each other. Except, she had a hairy pussy that Dave loved to frequent, that it had been "Off limits" for the last twelve months. Except, she had backed away from almost all physicality over the last twelve months.
In the time between being awake and being fully asleep Dave thought about a willing woman. She didn't have a name. He didn't know or care how tall she was or even how much she weighed. The willing woman he wanted didn't need to look a particular way. What he thought about was their first meeting.
He would walk into a restaurant. He visualized The Lighthouse in Long Beach, California. In his pocket he would have a paper copy of an email she had sent him. It told him she would arrive wearing a green dress and wedge sandals. He watched women enter The Lighthouse until he saw the dark green dress, the wedge sandals and her smile. She smiled when she connected what she was seeing on him with what he had said he would be wearing, khakis and a green reyn spooner shirt.
They were seated at a table near the windows over-looking the channel into the harbor. As they followed the hostess to their table Dave watched how she moved and made mental notes. She was tall enough that even in the three-inch heels she had on she was still a couple inches shorter than him. He watched her read the menu. His menu stayed closed and untouched. He had eaten at The Lighthouse many times over the years. He knew before he made the date with her that he would order a bowl of their clam chowder.
She ordered a half-sized shrimp Louie salad and iced tea. They made small talk until their food arrived and then deepened the conversation.
"I don't know why, but I was surprised by how you look." She said.
"You expected me to be shorter?"
"I don't know. Taller, shorter, different somehow."
"Are my looks a deal breaker?"
"No. If looks were that important either of us would have asked for pictures. Neither of us asked for pictures." Her eyes scanned Dave as if they were taking a series of snapshots.
"Good. You are more feminine than I expected up until yesterday. Yesterday you wrote that you would be wearing a dress. Many women wear pants more often than they wear dresses these days so I made that mean you are more feminine than most women."
She smiled. She took a bite, chewed and swallowed. "I thought a lot about what to wear. I considered pants. I thought about wearing white pants and a nautical themed top. I thought about shorts and a halter. When I remembered this dress I knew it was a better choice."
Dave leaned slightly forward and asked, "Why is that dress a better choice?"
He noticed her color change to blush.
"Because, if I'm wearing a dress, this dress, and you want to reach my skin it's pretty easy to find." Her hand slid through the fold on the front of the wrap-around of the dress and Dave's eyes followed it closely. "In pants or even most of my tops skin is hinted at, but not readily available."
"So you did think about this first meeting possibly taking us somewhere more private than a restaurant. You considered taking us to the next step?"
She took another bite, glanced at Dave's face again and blushed harder before answering. "I thought about it."
"Want to know my opinion?" Dave asked.
She nodded as she took another bite.
"If we take the next step today or not, I see no deal breakers, so far. We can stop eating and rush out of here right now. Or, we can finish our lunches, stroll through the marina hand in hand and then go somewhere private. You may have me walk you to your car. I already know I'm ready to invite you out again."
"May I ask a question?"
"Ask as many as you need or want to."
"Are you married?"
"Then why are we here?"
"When we first sat down we each got a menu. I didn't count but I'd guess there are fifty choices available on the lunch menu. Any one of those choices could fill your need for a meal. The owner offers you fifty choices because he knows this isn't a one-size-fits-all world. What works fine for one person causes pain, upset or a feeling of being deprived to another person. My wife and I have a good marriage in a lot of ways. In one aspect we have a terrible marriage. That aspect is sex. We haven't enjoyed the sexual part of life together in a year. I need sex, not just for the relief, but for the physicality, the touch, the connection with another human being. At this moment, I choose you to share that connection."
"That quickly?" Her eyebrows lifted.
"Sure. Why not?"
"What if I'm really a bitch?"
"Then whatever connection we have won't last. I'm betting that our connection will last. It will because for it to make it past today we both need to agree to be honest with each other."
"I'm married." She seemed to be searching his face for clues to how he was with being with a married woman.
Dave said, "I know. Your finger has the married indent in it."
She looked at her left hand, then back up at his face. "Do you want to know why I'm cheating?"
"Not really, unless the reason might intrude on our connection. I'd prefer your husband and my wife knew we were friends with benefits, but someone invented the word discreet so we would have a word for being able to keep a secret. I don't need details of your relationship with him. I assume you don't need details of my relationship with my wife. I don't need his name. There are some things I do need to know."
"Like what is the possibility of him being violent if or when he finds out about me?"
"No, he won't get violent. He won't hit me, or you. We may end up getting a divorce."
"Is that likely?"
"Nope. First, because I can keep a secret. Second, because his life is already just how he likes it. If he was interested in a sexual relationship all he needs to do is reach across the bed almost any night. I've been right there beside him. Naked and available."
"I've had enough lunch. If you have had enough as well then I'll pay the bill and we can take another step."
She looked at what was left of her salad and said, "What I really want isn't on my plate. Let's go."
Dave paid the bill and they walked out of The Lighthouse. In his imagining he saw them turning towards the marina and walking the path between the marina and the channel out to the breakwater.
They had taken just a few steps when her hand met his and it felt natural and comfortable for him to hold her hand. They walked and Dave thought about how they would talk.
She asked, "Let's say we go from here to that hotel over there." She pointed at the Hyatt. "We get a room, get naked and enjoy each other until later today. Then what?"
Dave answered, "Then, before you go home, we look at our calendars and pick another date and place. We meet at another hotel and spend half a day pampering each other."
"Pampering each other? Is that a euphemism for spending half a day fucking?" She smiled as she asked.
"No. It's doubtful I could spend half a day with my cock inside your pussy. I could give you a massage, we could shower together, share a lot of foreplay and some after-glow. That would take half a day. I'd call that pampering each other."
"A room over there will cost at least a hundred and a half. You'd spend that much for a chance to see me naked?"
"See, feel and taste? Damned right I would!" Dave said.
"Ok, but not today. Part of what I really like is anticipation. I like to plan a trip months in advance and find ways of anticipating everything about the trip before I go."
"If not today, when? I don't want to wait months."
She smiled that smile women sometimes give when what they want to say is, "Are you being silly?"
What she said was, "How about next Tuesday?"
Dave pulled out his cell phone and dialed. She asked, "Who are you calling?"
He pointed at the Hyatt. "Not who. I'm calling to get a reservation." Two minutes later he had a room reserved with an early check-in for Tuesday.
"By the way, the room is a hundred and seventy-nine dollars." I said.
"I'll pay half. Next Tuesday morning I'll drive here and park. You can pick me up and we'll check in together."
"I'll bring a suitcase with me, so we aren't announcing to the world that we're meeting for sex."
"Pack a lunch in the suitcase and we won't need to shorten our time in the room."
"Or pay room service prices!"
Dave's imagining stopped when the alarm clock sounded, waking Ruth and Dave for another day. He watched his wife leave their bed and head for the bathroom. Dave had been in love with her for ten years, loved watching her move, walk, dance and run for all that time, and best of all were the times when she was naked. In the last few months watching her make the trip from their bed into the bathroom had become painful. Painful because Dave no longer had the free and easy access to her that he had enjoyed for years. Painful because, as she went to shower, he wasn't invited.
An hour later she was off to her job at Hobbs Middle School, spending her day dealing with twelve and thirteen year-old kids and their parents. Dave got to stay home. He had finished a contract job for a client and had a week with no work before starting a new assignment for a new company. He spent the morning checking items off his "To-Do" list as he completed them.
At noon Dave started his lunch break. He made a sandwich and got a beverage from their fridge. Back at his computer he opened the web site he had signed onto the night before. There were three responses.
"Ticklemyfancy" listed herself as 56 years old living in Seal Beach. The paragraph she had on her profile said she was married, looking for a man to "liven up a stale life." Her snapshot on her profile page showed her in long pants, a scoop necked blouse that showed lots of cleavage and she was standing on the sand with the Queen Mary in the background.
"LongLegs" listed herself as 60, widowed, looking for a part-time lover who would rock her world. Her profile said she was living in Carson and wanted her someone to hurry. Her snapshot showed a blond woman with a nice figure in shorts and a halter-top. She indeed had long legs.
"I'mLonely" posted a picture that showed her from navel up, naked and covering her nipples with her forearm. In the picture she had no tan lines, dark hair and a great looking face. The details? 59 years old, living in Studio City, working as a clerk in a private school. She listed herself as married with a husband who allowed her to play.
Without hesitation he answered all three. "Hi. Here's what I offer: Read my profile and you'll know I'm not into games. I am into results. I'm married and looking for a playmate with the focus on play and mate. If you want dates with a man who will spend weeks or months and piles of money convincing you he's a good catch before he gets a glimpse of your hidden treasures, I'm not the man for you. I'm 67 years old, 6'1", 222 pounds and I limp a little. Some fishermen catch and keep and others catch and release. I want to be caught and released (until the next time you cast your lure and catch me again). My wife used to tell me she liked that I had slow hands and great kisses. Don't take her word for it. Let's get together and do something fun together."
Dave's finger paused for well over a minute before he clicked "SEND".
He wondered/worried about all the "What ifs" his brain thought of in that minute. He set them all aside and hit "SEND."
It seemed fitting to stand up from the desk, walk to the kitchen and get a beverage. Once the beverage was open he needed a diversion and walked out to their garage.
He pulled his prized possession out of the garage and began washing it. Out in the driveway Dave washed his '68 Chevy El Camino then pulled it into the garage and waxed it. It got the wash once a week, the wax once a month.
When he first bought the '68 Dave loved that it had a bench seat. Ruth told him she liked to slide over next to him while they drove somewhere. He would shift gears using the Hurst shifter on the floor and then rest his hand on her leg. Back then she said she liked having her husband's hand on her leg. Dave had installed a seatbelt in the middle of the bench seat so Ruth would be both legal and safe while sitting next to him.
For the last year she acted like she didn't like the El Camino any more or maybe she didn't like sliding over next to Dave... or his hand on her knee. When they were going shopping or out for a meal she always wanted to take her car. She always had a reason and the reason involved not going in the El Camino.
It was after four in the afternoon when the El Camino was finished. Dave mowed the lawns and picked some tomatoes from his little garden before it got dark. Ruth got home shortly after five.
She used the tomatoes in a salad she made to go with their dinner. She told Dave about her day at school and about the latest gossip from the community of the school. Dave listened, as he always did from the time they first met, to her telling him about people and events in which Dave had no part. It had been years since any social event at the school involved spouses of the staff. He listened because he knew she needed to verbalize her day as a way of processing the day and come down from it.
By nine-thirty she was showered and in bed. A few minutes later Dave was opening his computer and looking to see if anyone had responded to his email.
"LongLegs" had responded. Her response was time stamped 7:18PM.
"Dear Dave", her email began, "I'll get right to the point. I like what you wrote and I want to take the next step. If your schedule allows, meet me in Shoreline Village in Long Beach for brunch on Tuesday. I'll be by the merry-go-round at ten in the morning. Can you make it?"
He smiled in surprise. Shoreline Village was where The Lighthouse restaurant was located. Dave typed back to her, "I'll be there."
On Tuesday morning Ruth varied her routine. Usually she got up, spent some time getting her face on, then her clothes and a quick breakfast before rushing off to work. Her last move before leaving the house was to give Dave a peck on the lips (lips together, no tongue). That morning she came out of the bathroom still naked and holding a pump bottle of lotion. "Dave, would you lotion my back? My skin is dry."
Dave smiled and for the first time in just over a year he got his hands on his wife's body. Four pumps of lotion and then he spread it on her back, working it into her skin. When it soaked in he still had some on his hands and felt brave. He helped her turn to face him and he worked the rest of the lotion from his hands onto her breasts.
She smiled and asked, "Will that do it for you?"
For two seconds Dave thought about how best to answer her. He answered, "No. I want more, but you've known that for a year or more."
She said, "It will have to be enough. I need to get to work." She turned and walked out of the bedroom. Dave made breakfast for them and when she came into the kitchen she was fully dressed. Twenty minutes later she was gone.
Shortly after she left, Dave showered, shaved and dressed with LongLegs in mind. He got in his El Camino and smiled as he started the motor. There was something satisfying about the sound and feel of the 454 V8 under the hood. For the twenty minutes it took for him to get to Long Beach Dave was in Heaven. He loved everything about the El Camino. The truck was painted a midnight blue that often looked black and always looked like it had received his tender love and care. The tires and rims were upgraded from stock. The undercarriage was painted, as was the inside of the engine compartment.
When he parked at Shoreline Village he noticed a woman standing by the entrance to the merry-go-round. He noticed her because she was wearing a green dress that wrapped around her, baring a bit of her chest and left her long legs uncovered from mid thigh to the ground. She was watching him park the El Camino. When he stepped out of the truck she smiled wider.
Dave walked to her and asked, "Waiting for someone?"
"I was. Unless I'm way off, I think I've been waiting for you."
Dave looked at his watch. 9:55AM. "I'm five minutes early."
"I've been waiting for almost a year. Just so you don't need to call me something silly, my name is Alessa."
"Alessa? That's just about as unusual as LongLegs."
"My Dad was from Denmark and he added an extra "s" to the normal way it's spelled."
"I hoped to be sent to Europe when I joined the Air Force, but it didn't work out that way."
She hooked his arm with hers and said, "I haven't been there either. Maybe next month. Right now, I'm hungry."
"The Lighthouse has good food. Wait! Maybe you weren't talking about food." Dave stopped walking.
Alessa squeezed his arm with hers and said, "I am hungry for what I think you're asking, but I'd like to have lunch first, if that's Ok with you."
Dave resumed walking towards The Lighthouse. He smiled both on the outside and inwardly. 'This could turn into a very good day', he thought.
"May I be nosey?" Alessa asked.
"Sure. Ask anything you really want to know."
"Have you cheated before?"
"In the tenth grade I cheated on a chemistry test. I copied answers from Karen McSweeny." He smiled at her as he answered.
"No. I'm almost completely happy with my marriage. If we had sex once in a while, I'd be unwilling to date anyone or even approach doing what we're thinking of doing."
"Why do you think she stopped having sex with you?"
"When menopause arrived, she quit. She said her libido died, went on vacation or had a mechanical failure. I don't know if that's the truth or if something else is going on. What I'm sure of is that it's been 370 days since the last time she and I did anything sexual together."
"You counted?" Alessa's eyebrows rose as she asked.
"I kept a record on my computer calendar of every time we got together. When she said "No" a year ago, I wrote it down."
"Have you asked since?"
"At least once a week for a year. Fifty-three weeks I've asked and fifty-three weeks I've been turned down. I didn't always ask with words. Often I just started doing things I knew she used to like, like massage or joining her in the shower. Each time she told me to stop pestering her or otherwise told me to stop."