Midlife Opportunities?

This story has been kicking around in my skull for a year or so. I got around to writing it and it sat for a few months. Languishing. After a few rewrites I'm going to push it out of the nest and hope it flies. Please comment, rate, subscribe and smash that like button. All comments will be read. The mean ones will be ignored, the helpful ones will be taken to heart, and the dirty, nasty, raunchy ones may be included in a future chapter.

Enjoy.

Molon Labe, 10

*****

How many times have we heard it? Man only uses 10% of his brain. I don't know who said it, I don't know if it's true. I just know my story.

The first time I experienced it, I was on top of my wife, I was driving it deep and I felt a discomfort growing at the base of my skull. The pain started to flare, slowly building, I was close and I wasn't going to let a little pain keep me from launching a load deep into my wife's womb.

I'm a married man in his early forties. I hold two black belts, I played ice hockey for years and I was an outdoorsman. Hunting, fishing, water skiing, I even scaled El Capitan and Half Dome in Yosemite. Several times. In short, I used to be a badass. Now, I'm a fatass.

I broke my back in a sparring match when I was 25. I was a brown belt at the time and I had been close to earning my black. Part of the training was to spar every student in class, in succession, no stopping, from white belt all the way to the master. There must have been a flyer put up I didn't see, requiring every student to show up that day. I was about 25 minutes into the fight and on my last black belt before the master stepped in. I know, 25 minutes of fighting. Bullshit. I swear to you this is the truth. Ask anyone who has trained hard and they will confirm the reality of second and third winds. Besides, when you are almost a black belt anything from white to blue belt you can fight in your sleep. Purple, red, and brown belts start to get competent. The master had six of the green and blue belts jump me at the same time. And that wore me down pretty good. So by the time I got to the last black belt I was getting thrown as much as I was throwing. Falling hurts if done incorrectly. And throwing is exhausting.

So when I went up against Quanjunim I was almost toast. And he threw me. I didn't break my fall properly and the result was L2, L3, and L4, lumbar vertebrae all cracked, chipped or some combination.

Eight weeks trying to sleep in a vertical position, of not being able to take a deep breath and the first inklings of the rest of my life. There hasn't been a single day since that I haven't been in pain. Fortunately, I didn't get hooked on pain meds, even though they were prescribed in large quantities. I took enough to take the edge off. Then I sucked it up and gutted through the rest. At the end when my doctor said I was "healed", yeah right, I call bullshit, I still played hockey. I went on to get my two black belts, I still fished, but the rest was out. My back couldn't handle it. Running, forget it. Hiking, right, not happening. Hunting. Maybe from a duck blind, but duck tastes like mud. No way I was tracking deer through the brush, much less hauling the carcass out of a ravine. And I am a bow hunter. I can shoot about 15 arrows before my back says fuck you.

All this to say that it takes more than little pain to stop me. And being an average married man in his forties, when I get naked time with the wife, I'm not letting a little thing like pain end it. The opportunities come too infrequently.

So there I am, railing my beautiful, pale, redhead from behind. Her pussy is squelching with every drive forward and grasping my dick on every withdrawal. And the pain is crescendoing in intensity, and blossoming in scope. What was a localized discomfort, is now a full blown brain event. I had never had a stroke, I didn't know if they were painful or not. All I knew was, if I was going to die right now, and it sure as Hell felt like an option, I was going out doing what and who I loved with cum coating her ovaries. . So I stayed the course and when I finally achieved liftoff, I screamed, collapsed on top of my love, clutching my head and lay there whimpering in agony. I knew my brain had exploded, yet I had survived, somehow.

My wife was terrified and was going to call 911. Oh Hell, no! That's a $1500 phone call minimum. And that's just the ambulance. We live out in the boonies, by the time it showed up we could have driven the 45 minutes into town and seen a doctor. But being your typical, hard headed, American male, I wasn't going to go see a quack, when I have the interwebs. The online medical site called it Coital Cephalagia. Basically a migraine brought on by orgasm. It happens in roughly 1 percent of the population and 3 times more often in men than women, and 95% of the time completely harmless. Except for the 5 minutes or so of agony. Needless to say my wife cut me off. No more sex for me until I had a clean diagnosis.

Good thing for me, there are hookers. It had been a couple months since my episode, and I had seen 2 or 3 "providers" as they are known in the lifestyle. And apparently I now had a "hobby" and was a "hobbyist". I learned a lot about hookers and John's, and maybe one day I'll tell you all I know about them. It'll only take 10 minutes or less.

The second time it happened I was in a hotel room on top of this whore. She was cute enough, and sucked dick like she did it for a living. Oh, wait.

Never mind.

Anyway I'm once again aggressively thru3rdsting into this girl from behind, like I'm trying to puncture her lungs through her sopping wet snatch and that familiar, dreaded tingle started to ignite. Like an ember that slowly gathers fuel, it came to life gradually, until I reached critical mass and my cock and brain exploded, simultaneously. I vaguely recall her screaming for me to get off her. She must have rolled because I ended up on the floor between the bed and the wall. Hey, look, someone left a sock under the bed. She grabbed her clothes and bolted out of the room, bare assed naked, and left me lying there, to die. Bitch.

There was a timid knock on the door and I wobbled over to it. She came back. Said she felt bad, but I saw her grab her car keys that she had forgotten in her attempt to escape. That, and it was her incall and the room was in her name. So a dead guy might bring her more attention than she wanted. I dressed and left her with the thought that she might need to come up with a story to cover her ass in case some hobbyist actually did die or need medical attention.

I felt funny, light headed and loopy. So I made the massive, logical leap that my wife wouldn't want to get a future visit from a cop saying my dead body was found in a hookers hotel room so I went in to see about a CAT scan.

The nurse who was doing all the preliminary metrics was smoking hot. Little asian girl, long lustrous black hair done in a pony tail. Cute figure with probably a heavy B cup. I'm not really sure. Considering her size even small boobs looked bigger on her than they probably were.

"Good afternoon, my name is Yin Ru, and I'll be your nurse today."

"Hello,beautiful." I said.

"Sir..." She started.

I interrupted, "I know keep it professional. Don't flirt with Nurse Hottie. Are you going to tell me guys don't flirt with you all the time?"

"No, Not really." I could tell she was trying to be professional and end the conversation. Too bad for her I'm an asshole.

Arching an eyebrow I said "Tell me the truth".

"The truth is, yes I get hit on by creepy old men all day" as she took my temperature.

Cool, I'm either not old or not creepy. Pretty sure I'm old. But I hadn't hit on her either.

"Do you ever give in to these guys?" As I stepped on the scale.

"Sometimes I'll go out with one. Once one was really hot and I sucked him off while taking his blood pressure. That was fun." She admitted.

Whoa! What the Hell? That was way more information than I expected.

"What about me? Am I attractive enough to take you to dinner? Or get blown, while having my BP read?" I figured it was worth a shot.

"I won't blow you today. You are attractive enough but you are too old for me, and married. Not that I give a shit about your wife, but that's grief I don't need." She was brutally honest. I did tell her to tell the truth. But I didn't expect this.

She turned to go and I said "Thank you Yin Ru, that was enlightening. If you won't blow me today what day should I come back? Have a great rest of the day. "

She turned and flashed me a brilliant smile as the door closed.

÷÷÷

"Good news, Mr. Rapali" said the Dr? PA? RNP? Who knows any more. And yes my name is Rapali, Neal Raplai. "The CAT came back negative. There seems to be some over activity in you hyper medulla medical terminology brain parts"

Ok, sue me. I tuned out after the part where he said I'm ok. And I didn't have a second stroke. Or a first one.

"I can confirm the suspicion of coital cephalagia. It isn't anything to worry about, unfortunately it is completely unpredictable. You may not have another episode in your life. Or it could be a regular occurrence. It is completely harmless in 95 to 99 % of cases. So if you feel it coming on, just stop doing what you're doing."

"So what about the other 5%, Doc?" I was a bit concerned.

"Those are usually signs of circulation problems in the brain and can be controlled with medications. Just back off when you feel it coming on."

"Thanks, Doc."

÷÷÷÷

I walked in the house and right into a war zone. My teenage son and daughter were at each others throats, and my wife was stressed out and when she turned on me I cringed.

"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN ALL DAY?"

"Whoa! Stop! Let's back up." I tried to calm her.

But first things first. I turned to my spawn. The 16 and 17 year old double act of Chaos and Mayhem. "HEY! Knock it off you two!" I hollered. I pointed at the boy. "Go outside, grab a rake and rake up the trash. Those damn raccoons strung it out in the front."

Amazingly he did exactly what I said, the first time I said it. With no argument. What the fuck? About time.

Then I turned to my daughter. "Now you, you little tornado, you have left a swath of destruction in your path all the way from the front door to your bedroom. Clean it and I don't want to see you again until it is spotless!"

She too obeyed me with no arguments.

I turned to my wife who was standing there, mouth agape, shocked. "Babe, who are these kids and what did you do with ours?"

"I was just about to ask you the same." She stammered.

I handed her the paper I got from the hospital that had my diagnosis/prognosis and told her that I was good to go.

"What brought this on?" She asked with suspicion.

Of course I lied, "Turns out my brain doesn't know the difference between a pussy and a hand. An orgasm is an orgasm. And I missed your body."

That last part was the lie. That, and the inference that I was beating my meat. I didn't miss her body, at least not the body she had recently. I missed her body from 20 years ago. But I'm not a complete asshole. I understand age and kids and a shitty husband packed a few pounds on her. Hell, I'm not as svelte as I was 20 years ago, but in the last year she really ballooned. She needed to lose at least 100 pounds. And she knew it. She has a myriad of health problems compounded by multiple prescriptions that more than likely interfered with each other. And that was her excuse. She used to be smart too. Probably still is but her brain has slowed down considerably. Medications again? Probably. When I married her she was 5'7" 130 pound of firecracker redhead, yes the carpet matches the drapes, with 42 HH tits. Finding the right bra is an ordeal. Now she's easily 250. While we are at it I'm 6'4" I work construction, and I weigh in at 285. I look like a cross between Dan Haggerty aka Grizzly Adams, googlebox him, and Willie from Duck Dynasty, facially anyway.

She used to run an office of a multimillion dollar corporation. Now she barely has the attention span or the brain power to balance a checkbook. If I'm coming across as insulting my wife, this is her description of herself. I'm trying to explain the situation. The hookers were insults to her. And I really enjoy those insults. Shush, I already admitted to being an asshole.

That night as we laid in bed, as I rolled into her I asked "Hey babe, wanna fool around?"

"Get off me! No! I don't feel good and you just don't get it!" She complained.

"Get what? And don't start with that bullshit line about if you don't know I'm not telling you." As I rolled back over.

Quick aside ladies. what the fuck is that shit about? No guy is ever going to sit there and try to puzzle that out. I wonder why she's mad at me? What can I do to fix it? No. We realize that this is a power play on your part, we want nothing to do with it and realize you are not putting out any time soon. I have one word for you crazies. Hookers.

She just lay there stewing. And not saying anything.

"I know you don't feel good about yourself. You lay in bed all day, the house is a sty, you won't do anything for yourself and you barely do anything for the kids. I'm sorry you feel like fried dog shit babe, but this cycle has to stop. Tomorrow you are going to get out of bed before noon. And by before noon I mean before 8 am. You are going to take a shower, and clean this room. Start by getting all the pork rind bags and tequila bottles out of here. Then sort out that pile of clothes. Laundry, donate and trash. Then you are going to walk down to get the mail. It's only a quarter mile. Do not drive. When you come back take another shower. By that time it should only be 1100 or so. The rest of the day is yours until 4 when you will start dinner prep. I'm tired of eating dinner at 1030 or 11 pm. Dinner will be on the table by 6 pm. I love you good night."

I kissed her cheek and rolled over.

She didn't acknowledge me at all. That may have sounded brutal but I know she needs a firm hand to lead her sometimes and I wanted her to start feeling better about herself instead of wallowing in her own emotional filth.

My alarm went off at 4 am and I was out the door and gone by 430. I am a foreman for a sheet metal contractor. Fortunately, I don't have to put on the tools very often, I just get to boss the knuckleheads around. I was off work by 230 and by the time I walked in the house it was almost 4. I walked back into the master and stopped dead in my tracks. The bedroom was spotless. I turned and looked back down the hall. My dog was there, as was the perpetually open door of my daughters former pig sty. I looked back at my room and Lisa was standing there with a smile on her face.

"Hi baby, I was just going in to start dinner." She said

"Babe this looks great, I honestly didn't expect you to listen to me last night." I was agog.

"Well, what you said made sense, and you seemed genuinely upset about it so I thought I would do as you asked, so please step aside so I can go start dinner."

"Not until you pay the toll." She stepped into my open arms, tilted her head back and gave me a kiss. I hadn't collected a toll from her in too long. Any time we passed each other I would block her way and ask for a toll. I missed it.

While I showered I thought about the last two days. Yin Ru the cute, little, asian, nurse had offered too much information. But only after I had told her to tell the truth. Mental note, try to fuck her soon. Then there are my kids. Typical teenagers. I usually have to threaten them with bodily harm and a smashed game box or phone to get any reaction out of them. They obeyed immediately. Something was different. I fully expected to find my wife laying in bed in the same thing she had worn for the last 3 days. I gave clear direct orders and got immediate results. Time to experiment.

"Hey Babe, smells delicious, Mmmm, chicken enchiladas, nice."

I made a show of looking at my watch. The late bus would be dropping the kids off in 20 minutes and the food had to bake for another 30. I hugged her from behind and kissed her neck and fondled her tits. "The bedroom looks great, thank you for doing that." I kept kissing her neck. "And you smell good too. Looks like you had a productive day."

"Mmm" she leaned into my kisses. "It's amazing how much you can get done and how much day is left when you get up early."

I didn't want to kill the mood but at the same time I was rolling my eyes behind her back.

"You should try waking up at 4 and seeing how much you get done." I had only been on that routine for about 15 years. I know how much day is left after work.

"The kids will be home in 15 minutes. Bend over, we have time for a quickie." I had been using that nugget as long as we had kids that could interrupt us, and it only worked 15 percent of the time. I should have named them Cock and Block. But this time I didn't ask.

She wiggled loose, shucked her pants down to her knees and bent over. Certain that she wasn't nearly wet enough, I dropped to my knees and gave her a lick from clit to asshole. Then went back and tortured her clit in the most pleasant way possible. I was surprised at how quickly she self lubricated. I stood and lined up behind her and drove my rod deep into her core. She let out a yelp and a moan as I pummeled her relentlessly. She is usually silent during sex. She would be mortified if the kids knew what we were doing. I just want to say, "News flash Babe, they know."

This time she was vocal, and I liked it so I said, "We're home alone baby, get as loud as you want, talk dirty, scream if you need to." And she did.

It was wild, and the entire time I was on alert for that stupid headache to bite me in the ass. I was so turned on by her mouth that I didn't last very long. But that was kind of the point. When I pulled out I noticed that we were standing in a puddle of something. All I could think was she squirted. She's never squirted before. This is awesome. But I was behind her and didn't get to see it happen.

"What the fuck is all this? What did we knock over? Who cares, that was the best fucking you've given me in years, my love." She was giddy.

"It was pretty good, wasn't it? And I'm pretty sure that puddle is you. You squirted."

"GROSS, and in my kitchen. I need to shower and change. Wanna come with?"

"Hell, yes but the demon spawn will be here any minute and we don't want them tracking this through the house. I'll change shorts and clean this up. And you can join me in the shower later."

I kissed her as she turned to walk away.

Dammit. When did I get rational and responsible?

Dinner was excellent and the kids commented about how it was nice to eat at a normal time.

"Yes it is, and your mother is going to make sure to feed us by 6 every night from now on." I said as I looked directly at my wife.

My shower was interrupted by another hard fucking. Two in one day. That's fucking awesome. Since the last 2 were spread over 4 months. And no, not my birthday or Valentine's.

The next day was Friday and as I'm sure occasionally happens in every job, fuck off Friday. No one is motivated to do shit.

"I don't give a shit, Bill that duct work has gotta be up in the air Monday morning and you're standing around here with your head up your ass. Get to work or get your shit and get out. You can have an unfuckingscheduled vacation!" I was just a little pissed.

Bill is my laziest guy but he was confident and knew what to do and how to do it. But after 20 years on the job, he was short timing it. Counting the days until retirement. Even though that day was still seven years away. He jumped right to it. I couldn't believe how much work that guy got done in 3 hours and didn't bitch about it. He bitches about everything.