An Old Wives Tale

Charlie shook his head and sipped his drink in quiet contemplation. He had heard of men who had this type of marriage, but he never suspected that his next door neighbor was one of them.

"What about you?" he said, breaking the silence. "Don't you get to have a girlfriend?"

"If I want one, sure," Sherman explained, "but I don't want one. I had one a while back. But you now, women are a pain in the ass. They want to be wined and dined. They want romance and commitment. I'm done with the dating scene, man. Too much trouble. I'm happy with the one woman I have. I don't need any more."

"But I don't understand how it helps your marriage if she's going out and fucking other guys."

"Like I said," Sherman responded, taking another swig of his drink. "Women need variety. It does something to their hormones. I don't know. I'm not a damned scientist. All I know is that when she comes home after a good fucking, I get amazing, passionate, enthusiastic, mind-blowing sex with her for weeks afterward."

Charlie stared out the window into the forest in Sherman's backyard.

"And I'll tell you something else," Sherman continued. "It wasn't always that way. Our sex life used to be so fucking boring I wanted to just say the hell with it and go celibate forever. All of that changed when we opened our marriage. Our sex life has never been better. Frankly, I didn't know anyone's sex life could ever be this good!"

"Well, I'm happy for you," Charlie said, "but there's no way I could do what you do."

"I hear ya, pal. It's not for everyone. In fact, it's not for most people. But it works for us."

***

The holiday season arrived, and Charlie and Lucy busied themselves with family activities. With his milestone birthday now only days away, Charlie suspected that his wife had something special planned for the big day. He knew this because she hardly mentioned it.

After a long day spent erecting and decorating a Christmas tree in their livingroom, baking cookies, and watching holiday specials with the kids, Charlie crawled into bed at precisely eleven o'clock. It had been exactly two weeks since their last sexual encounter, and he knew the odds were in his favor.

It had been such a romantic day, filled with the type of quality family time that he knew Lucy appreciated. He had been extra affectionate that day, giving her spontaneous hugs and kisses, and complimenting her on her dress and her figure.

He reached across the bed and found Lucy's back turned toward him, as usual. He caressed her back with his fingertips.

"I'm so tired," she said. "It's been such a long day. Good night, Charlie."

She rolled over onto her belly. Rejected, once again.

The following morning, Charlie peered out the window and spotted Sherman shoveling his walkway. Charlie hurriedly dressed in his snow boots and jacket and sprinted out the door. He stood and chatted with Sherman for a while. Sherman began shaking his head, and Charlie produced his cell phone. He then handed it to Sherman, who tapped it a few times before handing it back. Charlie shook his hand, and walked back to his house.

***

"Happy birthday, Charlie!" Lucy exclaimed. She planted a warm, wet kiss on his lips, and then handed him a card. On the table were a nice breakfast and a hot cup of coffee.

"The kids chipped in and made your breakfast," Lucy explained, nodding to their two children, who beamed with pride. "They also made you that card."

Charlie opened the card and found a hand-written note, written in magic markers, proclaiming him to be the "World's Best Daddy." He smiled and hugged his kids. Lucy then handed him another, smaller, card. He began to open it, but she stopped him, and told him to wait until later to open it.

"Ooh, that sounds naughty," he remarked with a smile. She kissed him, and wished him a good day. When he arrived at work, he opened the card while seated at his desk. Inside was a coupon entitling him to one evening without the kids, where "anything goes."

What does that mean: anything goes? he texted to Lucy. After a few moments, he received a reply.

Exactly what it says. Anything goes. Whatever you want.

Charlie couldn't help but smile. Everything was falling into place so perfectly, he couldn't have planned it any better. His dick swelled at the mere possibility of what was to come.

***

Charlie stood at the stove, plating pasta and chicken parmesan, while Lucy sat patiently at the table. It was the only meal he knew how to cook. Two weeks had passed since his birthday, and he was cashing in his coupon.

"You know, when I said anything goes, I didn't expect it would involve you cooking dinner for me," she remarked with a broad smile. Her dark eyes twinkled. He looked at her and returned her smile. She was wearing the clothing he had bought for her: a short mini skirt, a tight, revealing top, and red, high-heeled shoes. She looked absolutely beautiful, just as he pictured when he put together the outfit.

"I've decided I'm going to start doing more of the cooking," he said as he carried a plate to her. "On the weekends, of course."

"Wow," she said. "This looks delicious!"

He sat across from her at the table with his own plate, and they shared quiet and intimate conversation over their meal.

"You look beautiful," he repeated for maybe the third time that evening.

"Why, thank you," she said, slightly blushing. "My husband picked this out for me."

"It fits you perfectly," he said.

"So, is this really what you want to do with your coupon?"

"Oh, this is just the beginning," he stated, casually. "The coupon says it is good for one evening, and I intend to take advantage of that the entire evening."

"Oooh," she cooed. "I can't wait to see what you have in store for me."

"I can't wait, either," he said with a devilish grin.

After dinner, Lucy rose to take her plate to the sink, but Charlie stopped her.

"You just sit there and look pretty," he stated. "I'm doing the dishes tonight."

"Dinner AND dishes?" she said. "I'm going to have to make some more coupons!"

"I'm hoping that after tonight, you would need to," he responded. Lucy looked at him curiously, but said nothing in response.

After cleaning the dishes, Charlie announced that he was taking Lucy dancing. He wasn't much of a dancer, and never really cared for it, but he knew it was something she enjoyed. They arrived at a local bar down the road, and a band was playing as they walked through the door. They danced to a few songs and had a few drinks before returning home.

"Now," Charlie said, once they walked back into the house, "I want you to go upstairs, shower, shave your legs, shave your pussy, and wear the clothes I will lay out for you on our bed."

Lucy cocked an eyebrow. "Shave my pussy?" He had begged her for years to do it, but he steadfastly refused.

"You said—"

"I know," she said. "Anything goes. This is your night. And you've been so good to me, how can I refuse?"

"And it is my birthday present, after all," he reminded her. She smiled and kissed him, allowing her tongue to dart from her lips just a little. She seemed a little friskier than usual. Already, his plan seemed to be working.

Lucy emerged from the steam-filled bathroom, towel-dried herself, and strode into the bedroom completely naked. Spotting Charlie sitting at the edge of their bed, she threw her hands in the air and seductively posed for him in the frame of the bathroom door.

"You like?" she asked in a playful tone. He motioned for her to approach, and she stood before him. He lightly grazed his fingers along her shins, up to her knee, along her inner thighs, and lightly brushed over her freshly-shaved, hairless pussy. She actually did it, he thought. She actually shaved it all off.

He wanted to take her right then and there, but resisted the urge. He motioned to the foot of the bed, where he had placed her clothing for the night: a pair of light blue silk panties, a matching silk teddy with spaghetti straps, her red high heeled shoes, and - lying on the very top for added effect - his travelling blindfold.

"The blindfold again, huh?" she asked. She hesitated for a moment, and looked at him as if to ask, "Are you sure?" Seeing no change in his expression, she stepped into the panties, wore the teddy, and gingerly placed the blindfold over her eyes.

"You forgot the shoes," he reminded her.

"You want me to wear those...in bed?"

"Yes."

She gave him a crooked smile and felt around on the bed for the shoes. She stepped into them, and then performed a little pirouette, nearly tripping over in the process.

"I think I'm a little light-headed from the drinks," she explained. He removed the blankets from the bed as she stood awkwardly, wondering what was next in store.

"Get in bed," he ordered. He liked having the upper hand for the evening. For once, the choice of whether or not to have sex was his, and his alone.

She crawled on top of the sheets, and he positioned her on her back. He propped up her head on a pillow, and then added another for extra lift. He then produced his two old neckties and began affixing her wrists to the bedposts.

"Again with the bondage?" she asked. He sensed that her happy-go-lucky mood was beginning to wear off, and it irritated him. "You're not going to shove that giant thing in me again, are you?"

"No," he said.

He finished the last knot, ensuring that it was not too snug nor too loose. Satisfied with his work, he stepped back and examined her. He took a moment to soak in the view. Her legs looked so long, smooth, shapely and inviting. Her large breasts sagged a little to the sides, but at her age, and after having two children, they were remarkably firm. Her large nipples stood erect, pressing against the silk fabric of her teddy. Her eyes were covered by the blindfold, although he could imagine what they looked like beneath it: dark, angelic, sexy, scary, and perhaps even a little nervous.

Several minutes passed, and Lucy began to fidget on the bed. She raised one of her knees and placed her foot flat on the bed, emitting a sigh. She was becoming impatient.

"Charlie?" she called out.

"Yes," he answered, after hesitating a moment.

"What are you doing?"

"Waiting."

"For what?"

"You'll see."

The doorbell rang.

"Oh, god," Lucy said. "Why is someone ringing our doorbell at this time of night? Charlie? What are you doing? Cover me up, please. Charlie? Charlie!"

The front door opened, and two sets of footsteps ascended the stairs. Lucy struggled to free her wrists from the neckties, but it only seemed to bind her more tightly. She frantically swept the foot of the bed with her feet, searching for a blanket or sheet or something with which to cover her, to no avail. Her heart pounded, and her breath shortened, and she drew her knees up to her chest. The footsteps ended at the top of the stairs.

"Lucy," Charlie said. He was standing alongside the bed now. "We have a guest."

***

Six days earlier, Charlie sat in a corner booth of a bar he had never before visited, fidgeting nervously with his cellphone. He was just about to get up from the table and walk out when a stranger approached him.

"You Charlie?"

The man appeared to be in his late forties. He was a handsome man, short, and well-built. He had close-cropped hair that was mostly gray with flecks of black, and his face was covered in stubble. He had piercing blue eyes, and was dressed in what appeared to be a very expensive business suit.

"Franklin?" Charlie said with an embarrassing croak in his voice.

"Mister Franklin," the man said, and sat in the booth across the table from Charlie. Charlie reached out his hand, and Mr. Franklin considered it for a moment before giving him an extremely firm handshake. This guy was all business.

"You don't look the way I expected," Charlie remarked.

"You were expecting a black guy," Mr. Franklin stated, as though he had heard the remark a million times before. "Too many people read these ridiculous stories about a black guy with a nine-inch dick who magically transforms housewives into sex kittens."

A waitress came to the table, and he ordered a Scotch. She appeared flustered, and returned almost instantly with his drink. She stood for a moment, awkwardly, smiling, as if expecting him to say something, but he ignored her. She bit her lip and scurried behind the bar.

"Well, you called me," Mr. Franklin reminded Charlie. "Why am I here?"

"Pete Sherman gave me your name," Charlie said. He waited for some hint of recognition, but found none, so he continued. "I...I need your help. With my marriage."

"I'm not a marriage counselor," Mr. Franklin said, looking at his watch.

"I know that," Charlie said. "But Sherman told me you helped him and his marriage, and that you could help me, too."

"Redhead," Mr. Franklin said. "Mrs. Sherman."

"Yes," Charlie responded. "That's them."

"Him, I don't remember too well. But her...what a knockout she was. That was a fun assignment. One of my first. Her, I'll never forget."

Charlie took his cellphone out of his pocket and poked at the screen for a moment. He found a photo of Lucy and held it out for Mr. Franklin's consideration.

"Nice," was all he got in response.

There was a long and uncomfortable pause.

"So," Charlie finally asked, "can you help me?"

"It depends. Tell me your situation. Start from the beginning. Don't leave out any details."

For the next twenty minutes, Charlie told Mr. Franklin everything about his marriage and his sex life. He recounted how wild and passionate and sexually adventurous his wife was when they were dating, how their sex life slowly eroded over the years, and about all the various ways in which he tried to rekindle the passion he once felt from her. Mr. Franklin barely blinked during the entire monologue. His only movement was to lift his glass to his lips.

"I can help you," Mr. Franklin said at last, "but you have to know there are certain things I have to do to make it happen. I'll have to touch your wife, Mr. Barrett, in places that only you have touched her in recent years. Do you think you could handle that?"

Charlie swallowed hard and nodded.

"I promise I won't hurt her or get rough with her in any way. But I will say some things she may not like to hear."

"I know that," Charlie said. "Do whatever you need to do. I just want my old wife back."

"I'll do everything I can, Mr. Barrett. My track record is pretty good, just so you know."

"I'm sure it is. You come highly recommended. Sherman said you changed his life."

"That one was easy. This one, I'm not so sure. But like I said, I'll do everything I can."

"What do I owe you for this?" Charlie asked. Mr. Franklin shook his head and polished off his Scotch.

"Nothing," he said. "I don't need the money or the pussy. I get plenty of both. I do this for the satisfaction of saving marriages and making people happy. I suffered through a sexless marriage myself. I know how it is."

Staring across the table at this confident and intimidating man, Charlie found that statement hard to believe. "Is there anything I need to do, to prepare?" he asked.

"I'll call you in a few days with the details. Just have her ready for me at precisely eleven o'clock on Saturday night," Mr. Franklin responded.

He rose from the table and threw a wad of cash on top of it - enough to cover both of their tabs and a generous tip for the waitress.

"You got it," Charlie said. Mr. Franklin took a step toward the door, and then turned around.

"Oh, and Charlie," he said. "Have her shave for me. I like to work with a clean snatch."

***

Lucy trembled on the bed, and Charlie couldn't tell whether it was due to nervousness, fear or anger.

"Untie me!" she yelled, settling that question. "Now, Charlie!"

"Mrs. Barrett," the stranger said in a calm voice as he unpacked the duffle bag he had carried with him, "my name is Mr. Franklin. I was hired by your husband to help with a problem he is having. I'm here to help the two of you."

"Charlie," Lucy said through gritted teeth. "I don't know who this guy is, and I don't know what you're doing, but I don't like this."

"Just relax, Mrs. Barrett," Mr. Franklin said in a calm voice. He produced an extension cord from his duffel bag and plugged it into an open outlet. "I understand that you gave your husband a coupon for his fortieth birthday, which entitles him to an evening where - how did you put it? - 'anything goes.'"

"This crosses the line," she protested.

Mr. Franklin produced a long, white vibrator from his bag. It had a large, round head on it, and it made an intimidating humming sound when he powered it on.

"That sound you hear is a marital aid," Mr. Franklin explained in the same calm voice. "It's not a marital replacement, but an aid." He shut it off and watched her squirm on the bed.

"Honey, just relax," Charlie said. "Trust me. He's not going to hurt you. I wouldn't let anyone do that."

"He's right, Mrs. Barrett," Mr. Franklin added. "I'm not here to hurt you. Quite the opposite, really. I'm here to make you understand."

"Understand what?" she growled.

"You'll see," he responded. He turned on the vibrator once more, and gently grazed the head along her inner ankle, causing her to leap in response.

"The shoes are a nice touch," he remarked to Charlie, who had taken a seat in the corner of the room. "Nothing sexier than high heels in bed."

Lucy wriggled on the bed as he moved the vibrator up along her shins, and then to her outer thighs. When he reached the top of her thigh, she jolted once again. Charlie knew it was her ticklish spot. Mr. Franklin then moved to the other thigh, and worked his way down her freshly-shaved legs, and back to her delicate ankles.

"Is it cold in here, Mrs. Barrett?" he asked. "Or are you getting excited?"

He moved the vibrator over her chest and lowered it until it was barely touching her outer breast. He gently encircled each breast, making small circles around her nipples. Lucy's lips parted just a bit.

"I like this top you're wearing," Mr. Franklin said. "But let's see what we have under the hood."

He slipped his fingers under her teddy, brushing the back of his hand against the soft skin of her belly, and lifted the fabric over her heaving breasts. Her erect nipples revealed her excitement. Mr. Franklin bent down over her and glided his tongue in circles around one of her nipples, and then took it in his mouth and suckled it like a baby. Lucy groaned in response.

Charlie shifted in his chair as he watched this complete stranger suck his wife's tits. He couldn't help but feel as though he had gone too far. But it was too late now. Mr. Franklin moved to Lucy's other nipple, while squeezing the other with his fingers. He then rose from the bed and paused for a moment to survey the scene.

He placed the vibrator at her ankles once more and made the same journey up her legs, only this time he moved along her inner thigh and over the light fabric of her silk panties covering her pubic mound. Lucy inhaled sharply. She stretched her legs down the length of the bed and pinned her knees together, but that didn't deter him. He continued to run the vibrator slowly up and down her pubic mound with one hand, while using his free hand to rub her exposed breasts and tweak her nipples.

As he continued to work slowly and methodically, Lucy gradually relaxed her muscles. Her knees increasingly parted, and the tightness in her thighs softened. Her breathing grew heavier. He removed the vibrator, waited a moment, and then reapplied it. She lifted her hips to meet it, and parted her legs a little wider.

"You see?" Mr. Franklin remarked. "It doesn't take much to arouse her excitement. There is plenty of raw, sexual energy bubbling just below the surface. She just needs to find a way to release it."