An Old Wives Tale

Before he had even finished, Lucy arose from the bed and went to the bathroom to wash her hands. As she did so, Charlie cleaned himself with tissues from the bedside table.

"You good now?" Lucy asked as she crawled back into bed.

"Mmm-hmm," Charlie responded with a yawn. "Thank you, honey." He gave her a kiss, and she rolled over to the opposite side of the bed.

***

Charlie couldn't help but smile as he approached the cafeteria table where Tim and Patty were already seated.

"Ah, it looks like someone got lucky last night," Patty remarked, wasting no time turning their lunchtime conversation to the topic of sex yet again.

"Yep," Charlie said, "sort of."

"What do you mean 'sort of?'" Tim replied with a laugh.

"I got the Bill Clinton treatment," Charlie responded with pride. "Well...more of a handy than the full Lewinsky. But I'll take it."

"Hey, it's actual flesh-to-genital contact," Tim added. "I'd take it, too. It's been sixteen days for me - and counting."

"You mean you actually keep track to the day?" Patty asked, incredulously.

"Of course," Tim replied. "I made a spreadsheet. I make note of the date, the type of sexual contact, who initiated it, etcetera."

"For the love of God, why?" Patty asked.

"Just for my own records," Tim replied. "It all began because Sally kept telling me we just had sex a week ago, no matter how long it had really been. So I started keeping track. I figure the next time she tells me it's only been a week, I can show her the spreadsheet as proof."

"You two are so pathetic!" Patty chortled. "Seriously."

"Here's what I don't get," Charlie continued, purposely ignoring the conversation. "Lucy didn't want to join in. And I know we're not going to have sex for at least another two weeks. That's an entire MONTH without sex! She's like a sexual camel, I swear!"

"Maybe you just don't push her buttons anymore," Patty casually opined.

"Gee, thanks, Patty," Charlie said. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Don't get me wrong," she said with a wink. "You can push my buttons any time you'd like."

Charlie ignored her proposal, as he had grown used to her teasing and taunting. He suspected the only reason she ever flirted with him was because she knew he would never act on it. She knew it made him uncomfortable, and she seemed to enjoy getting a rise out of him.

"I can push Lucy's buttons just fine," Charlie stated. "Whenever we do actually have sex, she seems to enjoy it quite a lot. We used to have sex constantly back in the old days, and I know for a fact she was attracted to me then. I may have a little less hair now, and a little bit of a gut, but otherwise I pretty much look the same."

"I kind of like bald guys," Patty said.

"Oh, do you?" Tim said, raising his eyebrows at her.

"I said 'bald', not 'balding,'" Patty responded with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Maybe she's a size queen, and you just don't give her enough of what she needs."

Charlie knew she was trying to get a rise out of him again, and he refused to take the bait. "I've got plenty of what she needs, trust me."

"Are you sure about that?" she said, grinning from ear to ear. "Have you ever measured it? You know, I could help you with that if you need me."

"You know," Tim interrupted, "that sort of comment would be grounds for a sexual harassment lawsuit."

"Yeah, it would," Patty agreed. "But Charlie wouldn't sue me. He likes it."

"Actually, I measured it when I was a teenager," Charlie responded, in an effort to prove that he wasn't flustered by her comments. "I looked it up. The average dick size is five to five-and-a-half inches. I'll have you know I'm above average."

"Ooh," Patty cooed. "How far above average?"

"I will never tell," Charlie said with a smile.

"Let me ask you something," Tim interjected. "Did you measure from the top or the bottom?"

Patty burst into laughter, and Charlie blushed. "What do you mean?" Charlie asked.

"I mean, did you measure from the belly-button side or the balls-side?"

"I...I don't know, man. It was probably twenty-five years ago!"

Patty's face turned deep red from a lack of oxygen as she was doubled over in laughter. Her reaction drew looks of confusion and concern from the people surrounding them in the cafeteria, and Charlie waved them away in embarrassment.

"You know, I learned a trick in college," Patty said when she finally came up for air. "While I was blowing a guy, I would lay his penis flat against his body. If it reached his belly button, then I knew he was a pretty good size."

Both Tim and Charlie fell silent. After a pause, Charlie spoke. "Lucy used to do that to me. I never knew why she did it until now."

"I'm telling you, she's a size queen!" Patty exclaimed, a little too loudly.

"I thought size didn't matter," Tim said. "I've done a lot of reading on that topic, and it's a myth."

"You keep believing that, sweetie," Patty said with a smile. "Size does matter to some women."

"What about you?" Charlie asked, trying to get her to blush. It didn't work.

"If they're too big, they hurt," she answered. "If they're too small, they just don't get the job done. I'm like Goldilocks. I need it to be juuuust right." She flashed him a naughty smile and deliberately dropped her eyes to his crotch. The tactic worked like a charm, as Charlie blushed, fidgeted in his seat, and covered himself.

***

When Charlie returned home from work that evening, he found a note from Lucy, explaining that she had taken the kids to her mother's house for a quick visit. Finding himself alone in an empty house was a true rarity, and he decided to take advantage of it.

He fired up the laptop and navigated to his favorite porn site. Instantly, he found a video to his taste, depicting a woman sucking multiple cocks through a gloryhole. As he watched the action unfold, he fished his cock from his pants and gave it a few soft strokes.

He looked down at his swollen, purple head, and was reminded of his lunchtime conversation. Without a doubt, he assured himself, he had to be above average in size. There was no question about it. Although it had been years since he measured himself, he recalled that he was seven inches in length - far above average.

Reaching over to the desk drawer beside him, Charlie rummaged around until he found a wooden ruler. He looked down at himself to reconfirm that he was at full firmness, and then pressed the end of the ruler to the base of his cock.

"What the fuck?" he murmured. "That can't be right." It was a little more than five inches. We'll call it five and a half, for good measure, he thought.

He then moved the ruler to the underside of his shaft and pressed the end into his nutsack.

"Goddammit!" he said. "I did measure the wrong fucking side!"

***

With two weeks remaining until his thirteenth wedding anniversary, Charlie decided to test whether his wife really was a "size queen." He set his plan in motion, telling Lucy that he had something special planned for them that night.

Aside from his birthday, their anniversary was the only other day of the year where Charlie was guaranteed to have sex. He would count down the days each year in anticipation of this event, and would fantasize about all of the ways in which Lucy might celebrate with him. With each and every passing year, however, he found himself disappointed that the day didn't live up to expectations. But, he resolved, not this year.

Charlie arranged to have his in-laws watch the kids that evening, which left them with the house all to themselves. He took Lucy to see a movie - one of those corny romantic comedies he despised - and then enjoyed a lingering, romantic dinner at an expensive restaurant. He made sure that Lucy had plenty of wine at dinner, which he felt would lower her inhibitions later that night.

When they returned home, he led her upstairs and they undressed in the dark and kissed and groped each other under the covers. Charlie kissed her on the neck, then kissed and sucked her breasts, and just when he began to lower his kisses even further, she stopped him.

"No," she said. "Stay up here."

Exasperated, Charlie returned to kissing her lips and neck. He couldn't recall the last time she allowed him to go down on her. He recalled how she loved the way he licked her pussy when they were dating. But then, once, when they were still newlyweds, Lucy farted while he was down there. And that was the end of that. Never again did she allow his head below her waistline.

"I have an idea," he said, suddenly. She groaned in response.

"Just fuck me," she said, and tried to guide him inside her.

"No, wait. You'll like this. Trust me."

He ignored another groan and fished around in his sock drawer on the other side of the room.

"What are you doing?" she asked with impatience.

"It's our anniversary," he explained. "We should do something different, to celebrate." He produced a blindfold, which he used to cover his eyes while enduring long plane rides on business trips.

"A blindfold?" she said. "Really?"

"Trust me," he repeated. He placed it around her head, and then entered their walk-in closet.

"Now what are you doing?" she asked. She sounded perturbed.

Without saying a word, he proceeded to tie each of her wrists to their bedpost, using a couple of old silk neckties. She protested and struggled, but eventually gave a deep sigh and slouched into the mattress.

Next, he produced the small, battery-operated vibrator that he had used on Lucy on a number of occasions years ago, but which had since been stored and forgotten. Lucy fidgeted and squirmed at the sound of it. He teased her with it, gently touching her inner thighs, and brushing against her outer labia. Eventually, she actually seemed to enjoy it. When it seemed as though he had her on the verge of an orgasm, he removed the vibrator.

Charlie rummaged around his sock drawer once more, and produced a plastic bag. Inside of it was a red dildo measuring nine inches in length and five inches around. It was one of the largest dildos in the adult video store where he had shopped earlier that week.

He powered on the vibrator once more and applied it directly to her clit. She moaned, and lifted her hips in response. He then positioned the head of the giant dildo at her opening and gently spun it in circles.

"What is that?" she asked, apprehensively.

"Just relax," he said.

He pushed it into her, but it was met with more resistance than he expected. He withdrew completely, and tried again. She made a noise, but he couldn't tell if it was a sound of pleasure or pain, so he pushed on, penetrating her with the tip. He was mesmerized by the sight of it, and his dick swelled to such fullness that it became uncomfortable.

She clamped her legs together, and he had to fight to separate them. Eventually, he pried them apart and reinserted the dildo, a little further this time. He continued to slide it in and out of her while applying pressure to her clit with the vibrator until eventually she relaxed.

It appeared as though he had only inserted a little more than half of the dildo, so on the next stroke, he shoved it in a little deeper. She reacted with a startled jump, and clamped her legs together once more.

"I don't know what that is," she said, "but it's not really working for me."

"Maybe I'm just doing it wrong," he said, defeated.

"Just fuck me," she pleaded.

He removed the dildo and positioned himself at her entrance. He had lost some of his hard-on from battling her on the bed, so he stroked himself while he continued to use the vibrator on her clit. This whole night hadn't turned out like he expected.

The battery in the vibrator seemed to lose its power, as the vibrations began to slow to a dull hum. Lucy stopped writhing under its touch, and she began to struggle with the knots around her wrists.

"You tied these really tight," she complained. "They're cutting off my circulation."

Charlie gave an exasperated sigh.

***

"What a freakin' disaster!" Patty exclaimed with malicious delight. "How could you have messed that up so royally?"

"I don't know," Charlie said, shaking his head. "I really thought she would enjoy it, but the whole idea was a bomb."

As much as he didn't want to share the details of that night with his co-workers, Charlie felt compelled to do so. Tim and Patty functioned as his emotional support group - even though Patty wasn't exactly supportive. Just telling the story seemed to make him feel better.

"And that's not even the worst part," Charlie added. "Usually, if she thinks she owes me a night of sex, and something happens to prevent it, I'll get some within the next day or two. But she just went to the doctor this morning. That dildo gave her a urinary tract infection. She's out of commission now for the next several days."

"She must be allergic to the latex or whatever that thing is made of," Tim offered.

"Then it sounds like she needs the real thing," Patty added with a wink.

"You know what?" Charlie said. "I'm done. I've tried everything I can think of to get that woman interested in sex. You name it, I've tried it. Nothing - and I mean nothing - works."

"Maybe it's a hormonal imbalance," Tim said. "Has she been to a—"

"Yes," Charlie interrupted. "We went down that road already. She's perfectly healthy, and too young for menopause. She checks out fine."

"Take her away from the kids for a long weekend or something," Patty said. "You'd be shocked—"

"Been there, done that," Charlie interrupted once more. "I took her away for a weekend at the Cape. Beautiful, romantic place, right on the water. We held hands, kissed, all that stuff. We had sex once, and then fell into the same pattern of boring, every-other-week, sex as soon as we returned home."

"Abstain from sex for a month," Tim said. "They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Maybe it makes the libido stronger, too?"

Charlie shook his head. "Dude...when I say I've tried everything, I mean it. I once abstained for two months. Nothing. I don't even think she noticed."

"Maybe she just doesn't enjoy sex," Patty said.

"That's the thing," Charlie said, throwing his hands in the air. "She loves sex - when we're having it. She has an orgasm almost every time we have sex. And she says she's horny, but only during sex! The problem is that she can only get horny by having sex...and she doesn't want sex if she isn't horny!"

"I believe that's called a Catch-22," Tim said without looking up from his turkey sandwich.

***

Weeks passed, and as winter approached, the days grew shorter. Charlie's fortieth birthday loomed on the horizon, and he could feel the weight of that number begin to hang around his neck like an anchor. As he rolled his trashcan to the curb, he spotted his neighbor, Sherman, standing in his driveway with his wife. She wore high heels, a short mini-skirt that clung to her athletic hips and ass, and a revealing top that showcased her ample breasts. She wore her red hair down, as usual, and it sat neatly upon her shoulders in soft curls.

She raised one of her ankles behind her as she leaned forward to kiss him. He pulled her to him and held her closely, and they shared a passionate and extended kiss. They parted, and he gave her a playful slap on her firm rear end as she walked toward her car. He watched silently as she sped down the road.

Charlie hadn't even realized it, but he hadn't moved since depositing the trashcan at the end of his driveway. He was suddenly illuminated by a street light, and that is when Sherman noticed Charlie's presence. Charlie gave him a polite wave, and Sherman called for him to come over.

They had been next door neighbors for many years, and Charlie thoroughly enjoyed socializing with Sherman and his wife at their neighborhood get-togethers. Sherman was a happy-go-lucky guy with an infectiously optimistic attitude. He was probably the happiest person Charlie knew. And how could he not be, as he was married to a woman who was not only stunningly gorgeous, but affectionate as well. The two of them behaved like ravenous teenagers at times - a trait that seemed to make Lucy uncomfortable.

"How's it going?" Sherman called as Charlie approached. Sherman liked to drink, and he was clearly enjoying a few cocktails on this night. "You wanna come in for a few?"

"Maybe one," Charlie replied.

"Good enough for me," Sherman said with a smile.

Charlie sat at Sherman's kitchen table, and he was handed an oversized glass of his favorite drink, a rum and cola. Apparently, Sherman was in the mood for company, and wanted to ensure that one drink would last as long as possible.

"Where is your better half heading tonight?" Charlie asked.

"She is going out with the girls," Sherman responded. "Girls night out."

"Sounds like fun."

They engaged in small talk about the weather, neighborhood gossip and town politics. When there was a pause in the conversation, Charlie saw the opportunity to ask a question he had wanted to ask for a very long time.

"How long have you been married?" he asked.

"Twenty-two years," Sherman said, proudly.

"And you two still make out like a couple of horny teenagers," Charlie observed. "What's your secret?"

"Brother," Sherman slurred, placing a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "You don't wanna know. Trust me. You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," Charlie challenged him.

Sherman looked around the room, as if he expected someone to be listening. "Can I trust you to keep this confidential?" The last word that came out of his mouth was so mangled, Charlie could only assume what Sherman meant it to be. He nodded his head.

"Okay, but you don't share this with anyone. You got me? Not even Lisa."

"Lucy," Charlie corrected.

"Lucy, yeah. Not even Lucy. Okay?"

Charlie nodded once more, and took a sip of his drink. It was so strong, it burned on the way down his throat.

"My wife," Sherman began, "isn't out with the ladies tonight. She's out...with her boyfriend."

Charlie attempted to hide his shocked expression, but apparently failed, as Sherman burst out into laughter.

"You should see the look on your face!" he said. "Priceless!"

"She's cheating on you?" Charlie asked, incredulously.

"No! No. Of course not. She would never cheat on me. Are you kidding? That woman loves me to death."

"But, you just said she's out with her boyfriend."

"Right. With my permission and blessing and...permission." He was swaying in his chair.

"So, you're what? Swingers?" Charlie asked, hoping that Sherman would stay conscious long enough to answer all his questions.

"Yeah," Sherman responded. "No. Maybe, I don't know. I don't like labels. The point is that I let her go out with any guy she wants. She has some fun with them. And then she comes home and we have a LOT of fun. You know what I mean?"

"I guess so," Charlie stammered. He was having a hard time understanding their situation.

"Here's the deal, my friend," Sherman said. "Women, they crave variety. If they don't get variety, they lose their interest in sex very quickly. It's as simple as that. Us men, we can be with the same woman for fifty years and be perfectly happy, and want sex just as much as we always did. But women, they need variety."

"But don't you get jealous that she's with other guys?"

"She's not just with them," Sherman laughed. "She's fucking their brains out! And of course I get jealous. Any man would be. It's just a natural reaction. But I know she'll always come back to me in the end. Whatever she does with her boyfriends doesn't affect our relationship in any way."

"But what if she decides she likes her boyfriend better than you?"

"Charlie...if I really thought there were any risk of that happening, I wouldn't allow her to see other guys. I trust her, one hundred percent, and I know she loves me as much as I love her. The way I see it is, if she falls in love with some other guy, and decides she doesn't want me anymore, then she was never mine to begin with."