From Wife to Happy Life

The world is full of sexy new gadgets. Why just yesterday I was in the living room with my wife. My watch started to ring. I pushed the button and pretended I was "Dick Tracy." I was going to impress her with my new toy. Too Late, she picked up the TV remote and said, "Penthouse network," and voila, there it was, a girl sucking a big fat dick painting cum all over her tits. Oh well, you can't win them all. It would be nice to win once in a while.

My name is Mike Buttons, and my wife is Terry. We're both professionals and we both are right at the peak of walkin' tall and lookin' good. But this is a story of most (not all), of the ups and downs in our twenty-year marriage.

We met running in the Boston Marathon back before two nut jobs tried to blow it up. She caught up with our group and before we knew it, we were running side by side. I was encouraging her, and she ended up doing the same for me. We agreed to cool down together after crossing the finish-line. From there on we became more than just workout buddies.

After two months of fighting Boston traffic, we were sharing an apartment; a kitchen, bathroom and a bed. This gal was insatiable.

On the first night living together, I had changed into a shirt and running shorts, bent over to pick up my shoes when I heard a noise behind me. There she stood. She was dressed in an oversized white tee-shirt, and that's all. Her nipples stood out like nails ready to punch holes in that shirt and anything it touched.

Later that night as she held me tight against her naked body, I knew I could never be without her. I never got in that run. I don't think I would ever venture into life without her consuming every last corner my heart.

Her lips were soft, her kiss was gentle. Her body was strong and toned, long dirty-blonde hair swinging back and forth in a somewhat distinct way when she jogged with me down the street. When we made love she wrapped her arms legs around me so tightly, I felt she feared I might somehow slip away.

We were married in the winter so we would have an excuse to go someplace warm and sandy. As luck would have it, every hard body in the northern US and Europe had the same idea.

Days started late because the younger generation was awake and having a ball till the early morning hours. Then there was the tan to think about.

We had met and befriended several couples and many of them weren't there just for the sun and sand. It took us about three days to figure out there was more than dancing going on late at night. We stood in the shadows and witnessed our first wife swap, our first threesome and our first all-out orgy.

Every time, we rushed back to our room to fuck our brains out. It was the greatest sex. It was always better the next time than the last.

Lying wrapped in each other's arms, we spoke in whispers. "Would you ever do that?" I began.

"Do what?

"You know," I injected. "Would you ever go to bed with another man?'

Sounding a bit frustrated, she responded, "Mike, we just got married, and you want to know if I would fuck another man?" She stayed silent as I saw her eyes bounce around the room behind me.

"Don't tell me you haven't seen most of the men around here looking to drag you off into the bushes and see if it feels as good as it looks."

"You know my pussy belongs to you and you alone."

"Just wanted to check...."

"See if this convinces you...." That was the night of the best blow job and sixty-nine I have ever had, even to this day.

I don't know how thinking of the honeymoon got me on to the subject of sex. You see my wife and I just stepped a toe into our thirties; you know like sticking your toe in the water at the pool to see if it's too cold. We had been doing a lot to talking about how boring our sex life had become. It's the same conversation many couples have when your sex life consists of lick, lick, suck, suck. Then you fuck in one position for about thirty seconds. Change to the one where you know you both are about to cum. Bang ... it's over and you can now close your eyes and go to sleep.

I know it's hard to believe, but that happens in a lot more marriages than just mine. If it hasn't happened to you yet, the sad part is, it might. If you can keep your marriage hot, or even lukewarm you should last forever (maybe). This story begins about thirteen years ago.

One night my wife had just faked her second orgasm, and I was just about to get mine ... she stopped ... I don't mean she finished with a screen, grunt or any sort of announcement ... she just stopped.

"What the hell are we doing?" she asked. She leaned over stuck her nose into my face.

"I guess you were pretending to fuck me, and I was just about to cum."

"No.... I mean is this the way it's going to be for the next... God only knows, how many years?"

My cock was still inside her, but it was anything but hard. "If we're going to have this conversation, the least you could have done was wait just a few more seconds."

The look on her face was stern ... on the edge of being very pissed off. She lifted her leg to free herself from my body and moved to the edge of the bed. "This doesn't work for me anymore, Mike." She turned her head away and continued. "I can't remember the last time we made love ......Hell, when was the last time we kissed with any kind of passion? I can't remember the last time you said you loved me. If we don't do something now, we're going to end up sleeping in separate rooms, with locks on the doors."

"Ops," I thought. "I think we're about to have the talk." Now don't get me wrong. We are a very fortunate couple. We travel a lot together. We run together. We even rock climb together. But evidently, we don't fuck that much anymore.

The truth is, she has kept that hard body of hers really hard because that's what she does for a living; she's a fitness guru at a local health spa. Me, I'm a Phys-Ed teacher and coach at the local High School. Gooooo big cats -- go! I also teach Civics one day a week.

"Well, it's obvious you haven't given this any thought."

"Whoa ... Just a God damned minute. You think I don't care about what has been happening to us."

"No! I don't."

And just like that, I lost control of the conversation. "Well, you're wrong. I have been worried about us and how everything has become so damn routine. For Christ's sake woman, we can set our clocks to everything that happens around here."

She really was pissed now. "Oh gee, I'm so excited to hear you realize we have a problem. But are you doing anything about it? Don't answer that ... let me. You haven't done one damn thing to fix the problem. I wish I could remember the last time you gave me a real orgasm .... no, I mean it." Tears began running down her cheeks. "One night a week we get into this bed and pretend that we're a loving couple. We're pretending to be fucking or whatever you think it is, and I have to go get myself off in the bathroom."

Just as she began to get up and leave, I grabbed her by the arm. "Terry, honey, please let's talk .... let's fix this. We can't fix anything if you run away. Please believe me baby. I'll do anything for you.... I love you so much, I would die without you in my life."

I could feel her arm relax as she sat back on the side of the bed. "Mike we've got to do something to get the spark back in our lives. I can't live like this."

I tried to kiss away her tears, but she pulled away. "What would you think if we had an open marriage?"

"What? ... How could you even suggest anything like that?" Shanking her fist in the air ... "You're a sick son of a bitch!"

I cleared my throat and tried to get my thoughts corralled into a simple explanation. "Do you remember our honeymoon?"

"How can I forget ... I couldn't walk for a week." Her level of anger was not cooling.

"Do you remember that older couple that talked about how they had been married fifteen years, and were about to get a divorce, when a college buddy suggested they open up their marriage?"

"All he wanted was a piece of ass."

"You must admit it worked for them. They acted like teenagers on their first date." I spoke as softly and as caring I could under the circumstances.

"Yeah, but that's pretty drastic, don't you think?"

"Don't get me wrong, Terry. I'm just throwing out ideas that might not be the answer, but at least it could get us thinking ... It was something we heard, and we saw working for a couple that didn't want to give up on their love for each other."

I had to stop .... I desperately needed to catch my deep breath. I had to calm the fears constricting the muscles in my chest and calm the fear of losing the only woman I could truly say I loved. "There must be a thousand solutions as to what will work ... all we have to do is commit ourselves to finding the right one. "I could see her mind working on this as though it was a question to one of my students. "Not really," was all I could think of the say, when in my heart I wasn't positive I could live with the consequences of possibly losing her. "Let's think about how we can solve this problem. I mean we are both college graduates; If we put our minds together, we can come up with something to save us."

Terry laid down beside me but turned her face away. After a few minutes, I pulled her close and reached around her body to massage her breasts.

"Please, Mike, not tonight."

"Do you want me to sleep in the guest room?" I asked as her body began to shake from her sobbing.

My fingers reached for her beautiful face, and I felt her tears moisten her pillow.

It took all the strength I could pull together to get out that bed with her in the state she was in. At first, I was going to leave the door to the hallway open, but then I thought better of it. There was no way I was going to get any sleep. But listening to her weeping all night would make it all that more difficult.

I don't remember what time it was before I fell asleep, but the sun raging through the window was able to roust me awake. The smell of coffee made the transition easier. I got dressed and when I walked into the kitchen, I saw Terry sitting in a chair gazing out the window. Her eyes were puffy and red, but the look on her face was full of determination.

"Did you mean all that crap last night?"

Taken aback by her strange attitude, I responded, "What crap are you talking about? Let's face it we made some pretty dumb remarks."

"About you loving me and not wanting me out of your life?

"Of course, I meant every word. I don't know how I could survive without you."

She turned to look out the window again. "Can we talk to each other and not lie? I mean really talk and not shave the truth at all?"

"I don't understand."

"I mean right now I want to know the whole truth, and I will do the same. I promise never to lie to you again."

"Did she just say 'again'?" Her words were so confusing I found it hard to speak out loud. I was at a loss for words. Was she telling me she has been lying to me all these years. "Terry, the only time I have ever shaved the truth, as you say, were little white lies to keep you from getting your feelings hurt. Anything of any consequence was always the truth." Now I was getting pissed. "But it sounds like you have been lying to me for a long time."

"Oh, fuck! I had to open this can of worms, didn't I?" She uttered as she reached for my hand. "About two years ago, one of my clients went into the wrong shower after his workout. I opened the door to get my shower, but I saw him before I got into the room. He was washing his cock."

"So, you fucked him?" I scolded.

"No, I didn't. I just froze right there on the spot. He was uncut, and he was looking down, pulling the hood back so he could get it clean. He started getting hard and I couldn't take my eyes off him. He must have heard me, because he covered up and apologized several times, grabbed his towel and ran out of the shower."

I was little bit more than just confused. "What does this have to do with lying?"

"For the next year...at least, when you and I were in bed together, I was never thinking about you fucking me. I was always thinking of him and his cock pounding inside me."

My body seemed to spiral downward at that moment. I felt like I had been turned inside out and the last two years were wiped clean.

She continued. I pretended to hear her words, but I was deaf to her. "About a year ago I realized I was cheating on you ... not really, but in my mind. You know what Pastor Fillmore is always talking about? 'If you think sin in your heart or mind it's just as much a sin as if you had committed that sin'. I decided I would never think of him again. And that's when our sex life went to hell in a bucket."

What the hell was going on? What was I to do? I had brought up the possibility of maybe trying an open relationship or marriage and she was off getting religion. If she wanted to think she was fucking some other guy while we were together, I didn't care. At the end of the day, I just wanted to know she still loved me.

All of our married life I had busted my ass to make her happy. And how in the hell could she all of a sudden get religion. If she's looking for someone to blame, it certainly wasn't me.

Terry and I were now forced into the position of making new decisions about how to live our lives from here on out.

About two years into our happy life, there came a shock that we both found devastating We were going to have to rethink everything. Our decision was to put all this behind us and put ourselves first.

Terry would never be able to bare children. She was devastated. It took almost a year of trying to convince her it might be for the best; after all we were career minded people, and kids would just get in the way of our goals.

I began rescheduling my life around hers. It wasn't long till we found a routine we could live with. And man, did we ever live with it. We worked out together, we ate together at least twice a day. And on days I didn't have football, we would even eat lunch together.

Her problem started when she was in Jr. High. As a cheerleader, and the lightest on the squad, she was always on the top of the pyramid. One evening, when her squad was practicing their routine, their sponsor turned her head for just a second. That was the second the stack of young bodies collapsed. My future wife and one of her friends were toted off to the hospital. After x-rays showed nothing was broken, the two were quickly released to mend their only scratch and a few scrapes on their own. Years later the prognosis that was never made, reared its' ugly head and we all had to learn to live with it. But none of this explained what was happening at this moment in time.

"I think we should take some time to find out what we can do to fix our problems." She said, without asking for any of my input. "You're a smart person ... together we'll get to a solution." With that she stood from her seat, turned and disappeared upstairs to the shower.

That was the beginning of the end of our daily routine. Football season was over, so I expected her to make an appearance for lunch on Thursday. She didn't show up at our favorite snack-bar, so I ate alone. That evening I ask what happened with lunch and she acted like she didn't hear me.

With the dishes out of the way and the kitchen all tidied up, we watched a movie from our stack of videos, and just as it ended, Terry excused herself and went up to bed. When I walked into the bedroom, she was reading and didn't acknowledge that I was even alive.

I was just about to throw the damp towel over the shower door to dry, when I noticed Terry had turned off her reading lamp and had put her book on her end stand. Shrouded in dim shadows from the night lite at the bottom of the bed, I walked naked around the bed and quietly slipped under the covers.

The furthest thing from my mind were the problems in my marriage. Lying there beside her, I was committed to making it better, but based on the conversations of the last few days ... I didn't think there was a solution. Then I felt her hand brush against my leg. "Do you want to talk?" I seemed to be pleading with her.

"No ... I want to fuck."

For the first time in a long time, our hands and arms were exploring each other's body. We kissed .... passionately for the first time in forever. I kissed her breasts and teased the lips of her pussy with my fingers. I felt the head of my cock pushing against the roof of her mouth. She licked and sucked the entire shaft as though she was going to chew me up and spit me out. I could only remember one time in our marriage that she paid this much attention to my cock, it was on our honeymoon.

"Fuck me Mike ... fuck me till you can't fuck me anymore!" Music to my ears. Words I thought I would never hear again.

Somehow, we were able to get up on time and get to work. She had clients scheduled for the entire day and I was faced with giving a group of knot-heads a test on how Congress works.

That afternoon she called and left a message letting me know she would be a little late, so go ahead and eat dinner without her. Since she wasn't going to be there for our Friday night routine, I started grading those tests that no one was going to pass. Before I knew it, the grading was done, and my wife was still a no show.

I took no time at all in calling to find out if she was alright. "I'm sorry babe, there was an accident at the gym. I couldn't leave till it was cleaned up."

I could hear a strange rustling noise in the background. But I didn't want to get into a huff about her not calling, so I just told her to hurry home.

When she arrived at the house, she complained about being a mess from the accident. She tossed her workout bag into the corner and raced up the stairs to the bathroom for a quick shower.

"Give me a couple minutes to get the top layer off, then come up and join me."

That's a first, or maybe a second. She never wants me in the shower with her. This time was different. Fingers touched and retouched every part of her body. She took the handheld showerhead off the wall and pushed the pulsating stream of water into my ass. She had me give her the very same treatment. Her hands were stroking my soap-covered cock, while I kneaded her breasts with all the pressure the slimy coating would allow.

With her body shaking and mine about to explode, she turned to face away from me. Propping her body against the shower seat. Something that seldom happened in our life together my cockhead found the tiny button of her ass, and with the slightest bit of pressure, my wife was crying and screaming over and over, "fuck my ass ... please baby, fuck my ass."

My fingers were clawing at her pussy from behind and finally touched her clit. She began to collapse while being consumed by an orgasm like I have never seen before.

We cleaned each other as the water was beginning to chill. While we were patting the wetness away, our eyes met. Like children, we looked at each other and began to laugh; not a small 'hehe' laugh but a giant rolling laugh that went on and on.

We, as a couple, were on our way back. At least at that moment in time, I thought we were.

You've heard the saying, "Happy wife ... Happy life?" What about the poor bastard that jumps through all those hoops to make her happy? Well, in my case happiness is not what it's cracked up to be. Don't misunderstand ... when it came to the bedroom, I was the happiest fucker on the planet. But all good things must come to an end. (I wonder how many more platitudes I can sneak in here).

Once again, we began to slip into a routine. This time it wasn't all that bad.

Months began to come off the calendar and I don't think either of us noticed the little changes. The sex was still very good, but not as good.

It all came to a head on a Friday night. The team, cheerleaders, band, and assorted chaperones had just spent almost an hour on a bus ride into the teeth of a hell of a thunderstorm. The hometown cops, acting as an escort pulled into the stadium parking lot in front of the lead bus.