It Is Not Cheating If... Ch. 07

Sandy had lost a good bit of weight. She was still beautiful to me, but she didn't fit the category of big and beautiful any longer. I thought she would go out and get some smaller clothes, but she continued to wear the same blouses and sweaters from before. She did borrow some smaller jeans and pants from her younger sister. The tops she wore hung on her, hiding her beautiful 38DD breasts instead of accentuating them like before.

Our sex life, which was great before, went downhill quickly. It went from every other day to once a-week, twice if I was lucky. It was a struggle every time, too. Sandy's body would react to my advances the same way, but when I proceeded to go further from the signals her body was giving me, Sandy would resist. That went on for a year until I was finally frustrated enough to bite the bullet and say something. I had been hesitant to say anything, afraid of what Sandy's reaction would be.

"Sandy, I want to talk to you." I said to her one day. "You know I love you, but I'm not happy. We don't make love as much as we use to. You resist every time I try to arouse you. You don't participate like you once did. I have to beg for a blowjob now. Before you would grab my dick and greedily suck on it without me saying or doing anything to encourage you. Is it something I do or say? Do you doubt that I still love you? Do you know what the problem is?"

As I expected, Sandy started to cry. She sat there sobbing these big, gut wrenching sobs. She wouldn't let me when I reached to enfold her in my arms. I sat there fighting to hold back tears of my own. Finally Sandy stood up beside the couch, took her sweater off, unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them and her panties down off her belly to a point just above her mound.

"How can you tell me you love this body? Look at it! Look at that big, old, ugly scar across my belly! Look at how much these big, ugly titties sag now!" Sandy exclaimed in a shout whipping off her bra.

I jumped up and grabbed her to me and hugged her as hard as I could.

"I do love your body! I love it because it's a part of you! I still love you as much as I ever have! I don't see all those things! I see the woman I love and married! Please don't cry anymore!" I sobbed.

We stood there crying and holding each other. The next time we went to her doctor, (because it is a chronic illness with no cure, she has to go every three months for checkups), we told him about that day. He suggested therapy for Sandy. We found someone for her to talk to and after six months, the therapist had Sandy invite me into one of their sessions. Tearfully, Sandy told me something about her past that I didn't know; that Louie, the man who introduced us, sexually abused her when she was fifteen. He never actually had intercourse with her, but how he would fondle and pinch her breasts, finger her pussy and rub her clit, encouraging her into giving him hand jobs and blowjobs. She told me how she lost her virginity to a fat, slob of a man in the neighborhood six months after the abuse began, how she continued letting both of them use her until she met me two and a half years later, how I was the first man to actually make love to her, how I was the first man who cared about her sexual gratification.

The therapist told me Sandy hated her body back then. She had let those two men do that to her because of that fact. He said that I had changed her from hating her body to if not loving it at least accepting it and that the scar from the surgery and the loss of muscle tone due to the weight loss and lack of activity that allowed her big, beautiful breasts to sag had affected her body image so much that she had trouble allowing herself to believe I still loved her body. I told him it was hard to pay attention to her body when she wouldn't let me.

I had one session with the therapist on my own. He asked me why I had wanted to see my wife have sex with another man. I explained that when I was in my early teens I had accidentally seen my next door neighbor's wife having sex with another man. It turned me on so much that I began paying attention to what was going on next door. Whenever I saw the neighbor lady bring home a strange man, I would watch them have sex. That went on until the neighbor couple moved away about a year later. I also told the therapist about my college roommate sneaking his girlfriend into our room when he thought I was asleep. I would watch them have sex. I would wait until I thought they were asleep to go to the communal restroom to masturbate. I told Sandy about my past in her next session.

Things improved somewhat after that session. Sandy didn't resist every time I made advances like she had in the past year. It was another three months before her enthusiasm for sex returned. Our sex life rebounded to some degree. We finally got back to having sex more than once a week. Sandy and I were content with having only ourselves involved in our sex life after her surgery. After all, I almost lost her once for good and I didn't want to take the chance of losing her to another man.

As to the remark made in my title, my opinion is it depends on who you ask. If you ask society or persons outside of our marriage, the answer would probably be yes. If you ask Sandy or I, the answer would be no. Yes, marital vows were broken, but everything was done out in the open between us. There were no secrets, no lies, and only a little bit of jealousy. We both enjoyed it and I honestly think it strengthened our marriage. I know it made my love for my big, beautiful wife even greater. I think Sandy came to realize that I loved her for who she was and not her body.

The End