Tripping the Switch Ch. 02

For most of that time, I hadn't lost my desire for sex - just my desire for sex with Jeff. I felt like he was using me as a masturbation sleeve, one of those jelly sleeves men use to beat off with. I didn't like it. I didn't like it one bit. I was left to take care of my own sexual needs which at first meant masturbating in private, either in the bath with a waterproof vibrator and later, in bed with various dildos and vibrators. Contrary to Jeff's belief that he is larger than average, he's actually a little on the small side, and between his lack of size and his rapid fire, with his two minutes of loving, there was no chance that he could stimulate me long enough to get me off. I discovered that I needed to be filled, really filled with a large dick, or dildo, and stroked slowly for at least twenty minutes or so to achieve orgasm from penetration.

Secretly, I acquired quite a collection of dildos and dildo vibrators and hid them in shoe boxes in my closet. Whenever I was home and had the place to myself and knew that Jeff and the kids wouldn't be home for several hours, I broke out my collection, lots of lube and went to town on myself. The slow buildup and constant slow pressure of the large dildos stroking in and out of my wet pussy would give me earth shattering orgasms - so exquisitely long lasting that I could hardly stop even after a couple of hours of playing with myself. Of course, after stroking myself with large, vibrating dildos, the idea of being rabbit fucked by Jeff and his junior sized dick didn't much appeal to me. I usually managed to take care of myself two or three times a week so I was pretty satisfied and not much interested in playing the masturbation sleeve for Jeff.

Our sex life diminished even more a few years ago when I entered pre-menopause. My period became irregular and I started to feel tired all the time. My pussy couldn't seem to lubricate itself anymore and even with lube added, it seemed to get dry and would chaff, even with the short periods of intercourse with Jeff. I did finally go to see my gynecologist, Dr. Palmer, and, as Jeff related in his story, the doctor said I had a hormone deficiency - both estrogen and testosterone were in short supply, with the latter practically zero. He said with my family history of breast cancer, it would be unwise to give me an estrogen supplement but he did give me a low dose testosterone patch.

I wore the patch for a week and didn't feel any different - I was still tired and didn't have much interest in sex. I thought I would just have to accept it when by pure chance I ran into somebody that changed my life completely, and, as it turned out, Jeff's as well. I was filling in for a vacationing colleague one Saturday morning when I received a call about one of her listings. The prospective buyer's name was Janet Ellsberg, Doctor Janet Ellsberg, and we arranged to meet at the property she was interested in at 6 P.M.. As I always did, I began doing my homework on both the property and the prospective buyer. This was especially important with high end properties and this one was ten thousand square feet with an asking price of five and a half million.

I had my assistants begin doing background and credit checks on the prospective buyer and did some checks myself on Google and other search engines. I was fascinated by what I found, and spent almost two hours reading about her. It seems Dr. Ellsberg was pretty famous, at least in her field. She was board certified in gynecology and urology and specialized in the treatment of sexual dysfunction, having pioneered the field of hormonal treatments for a variety of problems. Dr. Ellsberg had spent many years as a university professor, researcher and director of its sexual dysfunction treatment clinic, before opening her own practice in Orange County. With the aging of the baby boomer population, it became a very successful practice, with notable write-ups in numerous local newspapers and magazines and several appearances on national talk shows, including Oprah.

In addition, she was one of the leading proponents of Female Led Relationships, breathing life into what had been a fringe movement among radical feminists and bringing it directly into the mainstream with her best selling book, "Women Come First." Her thesis was that both society and individual marriages and relationships simply worked better when women took the lead. Dr. Ellsberg believed that this was most emphatically true when it came to sex in the relationship. The studies showed that relationships were happier and the sex better and more satisfying for both partners when the female decided the "when, how and where" of sex. This turned out to be true across nearly all national, religious and cultural test populations.

Dr. Ellsberg sounded like a very intriguing woman and suddenly I felt a whole host of questions welling up inside me - questions I wanted to ask her because all those questions seemed to be right up her alley. From a professional point of view, I knew that I couldn't suddenly start asking her questions about my relationship with Jeff and our sex life in the context of showing property to her for sale. I didn't know her and she sure didn't know me. But I was determined, if there we was some sort of opening and if I liked and trusted to her, to somehow ask her some of those questions.

I sent one of my assistants out to the property to make sure it was in prime showing condition and went out there an hour before our meeting time to inspect it myself and familiarize myself with all of its features. Dr. Ellsberg arrived just a few minutes past six, driving up in a red, two-seat, convertible, Mercedes roadster. As she came around the circular driveway and parked behind my car, I was surprised by how young she looked. Based upon her biography - her dates of college and medical school graduations, she should be in her late forties, but the woman stepping out of the sporty convertible looked to be in her mid-thirties.

Dr Ellsberg was a strikingly beautiful woman, with long, wavy, shoulder-length, red hair, clear, fair skin, slim figure, tall with long legs. She was dressed in a simple dark green, fitted skirt and white blouse with a colorful neckerchief. As she came closer, I immediately noticed her sparkling, emerald green eyes that seemed to glow from within like a cat. Just looking at her, she seemed to combine the sexiness of Ann Margaret with the cool passion and confidence of Marcia Cross (from Desperate Housewives). She immediately extended her hand, taking mine in a firm but not harsh grip and shaking it warmly, covering our two hands with her other hand.

After exchanging pleasantries and learning that she had looked at four other properties that day and that this one would definitely be the last one of the day for her. I asked her whether there was anything in particular that especially attracted her to this property, besides its obvious size, grandeur and beautiful grounds. She told me that a home having three master bedroom suites was particularly attractive to her, since she lived in an extended family situation. I didn't press her about the details of that living family situation and started the tour upstairs - all three of the master bedrooms were upstairs, so we climbed the long, central stairway that actually divided into three stairways at the first sub-landing; each of the three leading to each of the three master bedrooms which were actually multi-room suites.

As we went through them, I pointed out all of the custom features and emphasized both the size and quality of the construction. It really didn't require a lot of selling on my part - each of the master suites was distinctively designed and lushly furnished. Each of the master baths were to die for - huge rooms with sumptuously large, jacuzzi tubs, large, rainforest type showers, sauna and steam rooms, massage room and of course solid marble sinks, solid mahogany cabinets and two-way fireplaces in the common wall between the master bedrooms and baths in all of the master suites. There were also large sitting areas in each. The closets in each were enormous, walk-in rooms, with mirrored try-on platforms and row after row of clothes hanging space, built in drawers and cabinetry for folded clothing and accessories and built in display cases for hundreds of shoes.

It took us more than an hour to go through the home and grounds. Each feature seemed plusher and more perfect than the last. The four bedrooms downstairs were nicely sized. One of them was actually a small suite, designed for live-in help. The kitchen was huge and had every appliance and convenience anybody could want The dining room was large enough to seat thirty. The den was enormous with an oversized fireplace and space and seating that could easily accommodate a party of fifty. Large screen televisions were everywhere and it had a very extensive entertainment system that could be controlled from any of the rooms. There was also a very sophisticated security system inside the house and throughout the grounds, with hidden video cameras everywhere, all capable of being monitored from the central security system in the den and from each of the three master suites.

We finished the tour, descending a long, stone stairway into a finished basement, a rarity in Southern California, with its shallow ground water. The ground water was deep enough on this property to allow a large basement. The original builder and owner had intended to put a large wine cellar in but had stopped construction of it because of financial difficulty after the concrete shell was poured and all the wiring and plumbing finished. It required only final wall panels or plaster and, of course, flooring.

We went back up to the kitchen where I offered her a cold bottle of water from the case I had put in the refrigerator and took one myself. She sat down heavily on the well-cushioned breakfast nook chair and sighed loudly, taking a long sip of water before putting it down on the glass table and then removing both shoes, bringing one foot up to her knee and resting it there as she rubbed it.

"New shoes - never should have worn new shoes when going to look at houses," she said wincing as she massaged her toes through her nylons.

"Yes, I think that's a rule in the real estate agent's manual - 'no new shoes,' and if's not there it should be," I said with a short laugh, removing my own shoes in sympathy and massaging my foot.

"This was the fifth house I looked at today. I've been on my feet for almost twelve hours," she moaned.

"I know what you mean - I 've had some days when I would have killed for a pair of soft slippers," I said smiling. "So, what do you think of the place?"

"It has possibilities, . . . possibilities - actually, it's the best one I've seen so far - and I must have looked at twenty properties in the last month. I would ask you all sorts of questions about it but I'm too tired and too hungry - I need a meal and a hot bath," she said with a slight laugh and combination of a small smile and a slight grimace as she worked the toes of her other foot.

"Would you like to join me for dinner?" I said, the words just coming out of my mouth, surprising me as I spoke them. "I'm starving too," I said checking my watch and noting it was seven thirty-five. "The last thing I had was a bagel around eleven o'clock. I was too busy to go to lunch. We could talk over dinner," I said hopefully.

"I had coffee and a muffin around noon time," Dr. Ellsberg offered. "I do need to eat something before driving back to Newport Beach. Why not. Do you know a good place nearby?"

"I know a nice seafood restaurant about a ten minute drive from here. The food is good and the atmosphere quiet."

"It's Saturday night. Do you think we'll get a table."

"Not a problem - I know the owner. I got him a very good deal on his house and gave him a lot of good recommendations for contractors and service people. I don't think it will be a problem.

"Good. Let's go then," Dr. Ellsberg said, slipping her shoes back on. "I'll follow you in my car."

"No need to - we can both go in my car. If you're headed to Newport Beach, you'll be headed back this way anyway and I pass this way on my way home too. I can drive you back to your car. It will be fine parked here."

"Sounds good," she said, rising slowly.

It was a short ride to the Blue Fin, a cozy seafood restaurant off route 1. During the ride over, I noticed Dr. Ellsberg looking over towards me, sort of checking me out. Her eyes seemed to take me in, starting with my face and hair and working their way slowly down to my long legs. It was an odd feeling. I'd only had men look me over in that way before. I wasn't offended by it - It was more a feeling of curiosity, like hmmmm, this is interesting.

Bob, the owner, greeted us warmly, thanking me again for all of my help with his place and immediately found us the perfect table in a quiet section of the dimly lit restaurant, near the glass enclosed fireplace. As I introduced Dr. Ellsberg to Bob, she immediately insisted that both he and I call her Janet. Bob took our drink orders and they came quickly, courtesy of the house. We both quietly perused our menus; she sipping on her Chardonnay and me on my vodka tonic. Janet ordered the grilled salmon. I had the swordfish. While we waited, we sipped our drinks and exchanged stories of how our day went. She talked about the other houses she saw that day and didn't seemed impressed by any of them. I didn't bring up the house I showed her, sensing that she would bring it up when she was ready.

With the second round of drinks, we began exchanging life stories - our background, education, family, etc. I confessed that I'd done some research on her before meeting, as any good sales agent would, and was fascinated by her career and her view that relationships work best when they are female led. I told her that it struck a special cord in me - then related the basic history of my relationship with Jeff. I'd had just enough to drink to loosen my inhibitions enough to even get into the problems of our sexual relationship. She was especially interested in this and asked me many questions about it - many of them extremely personal, like my masturbation habits, routine and fantasies. Janet's manner was friendly yet professional. I knew this was her area of specialty and for some reason, felt very comfortable telling her everything.

Dinner arrived and we both dug in, both of us working out way through the nicely presented dishes without much further talk. Finally, the conversation started up again with her offering to give me a copy of her book, "Women Come First." She also asked me if I wanted to come in to her office for a physical and hormone testing. She related that there had been many advances in hormonal treatment since old Dr. Palmer had received his medical training and it appears he hadn't kept current. She said there were now many hormonal treatment alternatives with synthetic and bio-equivalent forms of both estrogen and testosterone that can be used without risking cancer and in large enough amounts to really affect and improve both the desire for, and the physical ability to have, sex. I told her that I would really appreciate getting a second opinion from her and asked when I could come in. She said six o'clock would work for her since she and her staff worked late on Mondays. I said, "great!"

Over coffee and dessert she asked about the house - who the owners were, why they were selling, what kind of offer they would be likely to accept. Janet had been so nice and generous with me that I felt I had to reciprocate. Although it was unethical for me as the selling agent to reveal information that might be detrimental to the seller, I did anyway, telling her the owners were at the end of their financial rope, having been taken to the cleaners by Bernie Madoff, and were close to filing bankruptcy. I told her I was certain that the bank holding the mortgage would approve a short sale in this environment and that an offer of four and half million would probably be accepted. She smiled and thanked me for the information. Then told me to bring in a prepared offer sheet for that amount when I came in for my check-up. She loved the house and wanted to buy it.

It was close to ten o'clock when I dropped her off at her car. She leaned over and gave me a hug and a brief kiss on the cheek before getting out of my car. She asked me to wait a moment, then went to her trunk, opened it and took out a copy of her book, handing it to me through the window. She got into her Mercedes convertible and drove off, red hair flying in the wind. I called Jeff and told him I was on my way home. I had called him earlier to let him know that I would be late, entertaining a client. He hadn't sounded too happy. This was supposed to be a "date" night - with the kids off on a camping trip, he figured it was his night to get laid. I was hoping he would be too tired by the time I got home. I just wasn't in the mood to play masturbation sleeve for Jeff and his two minute wonder rod.

Unfortunately, when I got home, Jeff was wide awake and in his robe. He was all over me as soon as I walked in the door, hugging and kissing me passionately, groping me through my skirt. I could smell alcohol on his breath and knew he must have had quite a bit to drink from the way he was slurring his words. I put Janet's book down on the foyer table and asked him to give me some space and a little time. I told him I was tired and needed a shower. He offered to "help me" undress and to "soap my back" for me. I told him thanks, but I could manage myself and silently resolved to just get this over with - get him off as quickly as possible.

Fortunately, I took the precaution of putting some lube into my pussy, a lot of it actually, after my shower. Jeff was waiting for me in bed, sitting up in the nude, his dick completely erect and bobbing with excitement. As usual, he went right to my pussy and dipped a finger in, mistaking my lube for excitement and arousal, he wasted no time in flipping me over on my back, climbing between my legs, grabbing me roughly by the knees, shoving my legs back and then spreading them wide. He thrust his hips forward and penetrated me, sinking himself into me quickly, then thrusting away. I just stared up, looking past his ear to the ceiling and just sort of floated away - like I wasn't there.

He began to fuck me fast and hard, his breathing getting faster and louder. Maybe it was a minute, maybe two, but his whole body went rigid before he yelled:

"I'm cummingggggg! I'm cummmmmmmmmingggggggg! Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

I could feel the hot jets of his cum splashing into me, flooding me. He collapsed on top of me, pinning me to the mattress. He was so heavy - I could hardly breathe. Jeff had gotten more and more selfish in his love making over the years - but this was the worst. He barely even acknowledged me, spent no time on foreplay, nothing. Just shoved his dick into me, pumped until he came and then collapsed on top of me. He was half asleep when I finally managed to role him off of me. I was disgusted and appalled - and I was mad. I resolved then and there that this was all going to change. I was no longer going to play the masturbation sleeve for Jeff. Our sex life was going to change. I wasn't sure how but somehow I knew that Dr. Janet Ellsberg held the key to accomplishing that change. Then I remembered the book she gave me.

Jeff was snoring away, dead to the world when I got up, cleaned myself out in the bathroom, put my robe on and went to the foyer to retrieve the book Janet gave me. I fixed myself a glass of wine and found a comfortable corner on the couch. I pulled a small throw blanket over my legs to keep them warm and looked over the book jacket, stopping for several moments at the striking picture of Janet on the back cover. She had the most hypnotic eyes - even in a two dimensional photograph, they just seemed to jump out and grab you.