My So-Called Sex Life

Women, have sex with your man before you marry him. Men, have sex with your woman before you marry her. It'll save you from a lifetime of making do.

I met Harold about seven years ago. I was working as a cashier in a convenience store. Harold would come in once a week to buy a gallon of milk and a couple of two-liter bottles of Coke. At the time, I didn't know his name was Harold.

Harold would always say something nice to me after I rang up his milk and Coke. "Have a nice day." "You have a nice smile." "I like your blouse. It looks nice on you."

The first few times Harold did this, I wasn't sure how to respond. I thanked him for his compliments. He would smile and walk away from the counter.

After some time, I found myself looking forward to seeing Harold. As a cashier, you get a lot of nasty comments and criticisms. I didn't run the store; I just worked there, so there wasn't much I could do about complaints. If you've ever been a cashier, I'm sure you know exactly what I'm talking about and how it feels.

When Harold walked into the store, my day seemed a little happier. Watching him walk to the back cooler to get the milk and the two-liter bottles of Coke in a display near the cooler, I looked forward to his compliment. I would thank him and compliment him back. "Have a good week." "Good luck." "Your golf shirt looks good on you."

Okay, I'm not very original.

After a while, I got comfortable with Harold. If there were no other customers, I'd ask him about his life. Over time, I found out that his name was Harold and that he lived about half a mile from the store. He would stop in on the way home from his job as a bookkeeper for a local lumber yard. In his spare time, he would play games on his computer. He also enjoyed posting on Twitter.

Me, I didn't have much of a life. The cashier's job was barely enough to keep me in a room I rented from a nice couple, Lee and Debbie, and pay for food. My main hobby was walking to the local library branch about a mile away and checking out romance novels to read in my room. Fortunately for me, the convenience store was four blocks away. I didn't like walking late at night, but I put up with it. A car was out of the question.

One day, after ringing up Harold's milk and Coke, he asked me if I wanted to see a movie with him. I said I'd like that very much. It wasn't until he walked out of the store that I realized I hadn't given him my number.

At the time, I didn't have my own phone. Like I said, I barely made enough for rent and food. Even a burner phone was too expensive.

Lee and Debbie had a landline. They were nice enough to let me use their phone to call my parents who lived in Wisconsin. I called my parents once a week. Even though long-distance calls were free, I didn't want to use their phone too much.

When I had the chance, I asked them if I could give their number to Harold. Debbie was excited and wanted all the details. After telling her everything that had happened so far, she said, of course, give him our number.

I sat in my room and wrote a nice note telling Harold how I felt and how sorry I was for not giving him my address and number after he asked. I don't usually do this, but I dotted all my I's with little hearts. Yes, I got the idea from one of the romance novels. Sue me.

The next time I saw Harold in the store, I was ready. When I bagged his milk and coke, I put the note in his bag. I hoped I wasn't being too forward with Harold, but by this time, I really liked him.

Three days later, he called. We talked on the phone for about an hour and made a date to see a movie the next Wednesday evening. I worked most weekends, so a weekday night was good for me.

Harold picked me up at eight. I wore my best dress and my one good bra and panties set. I didn't own any pumps, so I wore my best flats. Harold looked nice in his button-down patterned shirt and dress slacks.

Harold had let me pick out the movie, so we were going to see "Leap Year".

We got to the theater in plenty of time to get some popcorn and drinks before the movie started. I got a Diet Coke. Harold got a Coke. Big surprise, right. I hadn't been to a theater in years, so the concession stand prices were a shock.

The theater was nearly empty, so we found some good seats towards the back. I didn't eat much popcorn, which worked out because Harold finished the bucket. Sure, he was a little overweight, but I wasn't exactly a prize catch either. Yes, I had D cup boobs, but I had a bit of a stomach to go along with them.

About halfway through the movie, the scenes of Ireland made me feel tingly, and I wanted to hold Harold's hand. I reached over, took his hand in mine, and held it for the rest of the movie.

After the movie was over, we sat in Harold's car for about an hour, talking about the movie. Afterwards, he drove me home. I decided to kiss him before I got out of the car. I had a great time with Harold, and I wanted him to know it. At the time, I didn't think anything of it.

We dated for about ten months. I'm pretty sure you don't want to hear all the details. Harold would take me to see movies or out to eat. His favorite place was the Western Sizzler. My favorite place was the Olive Garden.

Sometimes, we would go for evening walks in Castlewood Park, near where I lived. Yes, we both probably should have eaten out less and walked more.

Afterwards, we would go to Harold's house. He had a nice three-bedroom house on Eastwood Lane. His living room and bedroom were furnished, but the rest of the house was empty. The kitchen was spacious, with a breakfast nook, but all Harold had when I first saw it were a couple of pots, a frying pan, and a microwave.

Harold was nice enough to buy a set of cookware and a couple of baking pans for me. Sometimes, we would grocery shop, stay in, and I would make him a nice dinner. I baked brownies for him to enjoy when I wasn't around. He raved about my fudge brownies.

I saw Harold's bedroom once, when he showed me around his house the first time. At the time, I didn't think too much about it. I was happy spending time with him, and I appreciated that he wasn't wanting sex all the time.

It was on one of our evening walks through Castlewood Park that Harold proposed to me. Yes, I was surprised. Yes, I screamed yes at him. Yes, I made a scene, I hugged and kissed him for a long, long time.

After making preparations, we were married by the Justice of the Peace at the courthouse in Lexington. Lee and Debbie were there for me. Debbie cried through the short ceremony and it was all I could do to keep from crying. I didn't realize it at the time, but I guess I was more than a tenant. I was like a daughter to them. Harold and I still see them socially every so often.

We didn't have a lot of money, so we skipped the honeymoon. I moved in with Harold right after the wedding. At the time, we were both working, so it was about a week before I noticed that we hadn't consummated our marriage.

One night, when we were together in the living room, I told Harold that I wanted more than hugs and kisses. I wanted to have sex with him. He said he was tired, but I wasn't having that excuse. I kept asking him to get undressed and he kept ignoring me.

I wasn't very happy. Harold went to bed first. I sat up for about an hour, wondering what was wrong. Grudgingly, I went to bed, and eventually, I fell asleep.

I woke up to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. I was still grumpy about our talk the night before, so without thinking much about it, I took off my clothes and went into the bathroom. I pulled the shower curtain back and got the surprise of my life.

When Harold finally moved his hands away from his crotch, I took a good look at his cock. I hope it was erect since I was standing there naked. His cock was maybe three inches long.

I went back into the bedroom, got dressed, and waited for him to come out. After he got dressed, I hugged him and told him that it didn't matter. I was in love with him, and we would work it out.

It took about a week before Harold was comfortable being naked in bed with me. Me, I tried to be patient. I went to bed naked every night when I wasn't working, and let Harold play with my boobs and pussy as much as he wanted.

He got me off with his hand a couple of times, which felt nice.

In return, I gave my husband hand jobs. I would straddle his thighs, naked, and stroke his cock until he came. Baby oil made the stoking much easier. Sometimes, he would reach up and squeeze my boobs and pinch my nipples while I stroked him. I know he liked playing with them, but I didn't appreciate him getting me aroused when I was trying to make him happy.

One day, I took matters into my own hands. Or, I should say, my own pussy. I had Harold lie down like I was going to give him a hand job. I undressed, straddled him, and stroked his cock barehanded until it was nice and stiff. Without saying a word, I slid up and mounted him in the cowgirl position.

I had to be careful thrusting on him. I didn't want his cock popping out. I wanted him to feel my pussy. I tried to be as slow and gentle as I could, but he came before I got close.

I was disappointed, but I tried my hardest not to let it show. While we were cuddling, he let it all out. He told me that was the first time he'd ever had intercourse. He told me he stopped dating in high school when Julia made fun of his penis after a heavy make-out session.

He told me the few times he'd dated in college, he insisted on eating pussy. Hmm, I wondered why he hadn't offered to eat my pussy?

He told me that once he got his job, he settled into a routine. He read in a book back at college that said to make it a point to compliment everyone he saw. It took him a couple of years before the compliments came naturally, but over time, he got better and better at bringing happiness to people.

Yes, he certainly brought happiness to my life.

He told me that I was the only woman that complimented him back. I felt a little sorry for him for that. Then he told me how much he appreciated my handwritten note in his bag. He would take it out and read it a couple of nights a week while we dated.

He told me he really loved the little hearts over the I's. Ha. Told you, readers.

We didn't sleep much that night. In the morning, I assured him that he could fuck me anytime he wanted. I promised I would never ever tell him no, although I'd tell him I was having my period. If he still wanted to fuck me, I'd clean up the mess afterwards. I would make sex between us work, somehow.

A couple of nights later, I asked Harold why he hadn't offered to eat my pussy. Sheepishly, he admitted that he'd never made a woman orgasm that way. After dinner, I took him to bed. Before we started, I asked him if suggestions would make him feel more or less comfortable.

Harold looked at me. "Suggestions?" I could tell by the look on his face that he was truly puzzled.

I explained that meant suggestions like "Higher." "Lower.", "Faster." "Slower." "Harder."

Harold thought for a bit, and then answered, "Sure. After all, I want it to be fun for you."

I did a little striptease for him while he sat on the bed and watched. I got on the bed and we kissed and cuddled for a while. I was more than ready when he went down on me.

At first, I gave Harold a few suggestions. I felt really good and hoped I would explode on his face, After about ten minutes, I started to worry. One, I was calm enough to look at the clock, Two, I didn't want to disappoint my husband. Unfortunately, I can't force an orgasm and I didn't want to fake it. While I felt tingly, I never came close to cumming. I had him stop after twenty minutes.

I spent the rest of the night consoling Harold. I could tell that it was a huge blow to his ego. I kept insisting that it was my fault, not his.

From then on, I made do with playing with myself with my hand while my husband was working. The stories I'd read in my romance novels gave me plenty of mental material to work with. We'd have sex once or twice a week, pretty much whenever he wanted. I wanted to keep my sex promise to him.

After a couple of months, Harold asked me if I wanted to quit my cashier job. Hell yes, I wanted to quit. We talked about it for a couple of nights, and after he assured me that his income was enough, I went in and quit.

Soon after that, Harold showed me how I could read novels on his computer. I was happy that I didn't have to walk to the library anymore. Okay, I get it. I should exercise more and read less. I'm not Miss Perfect.

About a month later, Harold called me while he was on his computer. Concerned, I dropped the book I was reading and came over. Mostly, the computer is Harold's domain. I read while he sits at the computer. It's not like he ignores me. We hug and kiss all the time and have sex three or four times a month, usually on the weekend when he's home.

When I got to the computer, I asked Harold what he wanted. "Look," he said.

I looked on the computer screen at several images of vibrators. My pussy went all tingly on me, but what was left of my mind said, "No. I don't need those."

Harold looked up at me. "Look, I know that you don't cum during sex. I can't even eat your pussy right. You have to be masturbating or you'd have left me by now."

Sheepishly, I admitted that I played with myself. I asked Harold if he wanted to watch. He frowned, and I realized too late that watching me masturbate would be another blow to his ego. Sometimes, I am an idiot.

Harold kept insisting that I pick out a vibrator, so I went with a basic beige vibrator. It came in three sizes, 6", 9", and 12". They all had the same thickness, a little thicker than a C battery. My pussy ached for the 12" vibrator, but I knew this had to be yet another blow to Harold's ego, so I chose the 6" vibrator.

I felt really bad, so after Harold placed the order, I pulled him into the bedroom and demanded that he fuck me. Quietly, we both undressed and got on the bed. I rode him to a quick ejaculation and cuddled with him until he fell asleep.

A couple of weeks later, the vibrator came. My pussy tingled but my heart ached. Harold had to be hurting. Of course, the batteries were not included. I found three C batteries in the kitchen drawer.

I went into the bedroom to try out my new toy. I held the vibrator against my clit, starting on the lowest setting and quickly working my way up to the highest speed before I exploded. After I cleaned the vibrator, I put it in the top chest drawer with my panties. I hoped Harold would never look in my panties drawer.

I still used my hand to play with myself most of the time, but the vibrator was a nice change of pace. I'd have nice orgasms with my hand, and explosive orgasms with the vibrator.

A couple of months later, Harold called me over to the computer again. This time, there were a few contraptions on the screen. I had to squint a little to see they were called harnesses or strap-ons.

That night, while we were in bed cuddling, we discussed buying a harness. I could tell that Harold was excited about the idea of fucking me until I came. I'm sure he'd been thinking about getting a harness for a while. Finally, I asked him if he wanted to try out the idea right now.

Curious, Harold asked me how?

I answered that he could use his hand to "fuck" me with the vibrator we already bought. If he liked doing that, then purchasing a harness would make sense.

Harold agreed that my idea sounded reasonable.

I got up from the bed, and got my vibrator from the top chest drawer. I got back into bed, and Harold wasted no time. He sat up on the bed beside me and started pumping my pussy hard with my vibrator. It hurt for a bit until my pussy caught up and got wet, and then it felt great.

I'd never thought about fucking my vibrator. I always held it against my clit and let the vibrations get me off. Even if I'd thought of fucking it, there was no way I could pump it as fast as Harold could,

I don't know how long it took, but I finally exploded in a massive orgasm. After I calmed down, I could see the big grin on Harold's face. I told him to purchase whichever harness and dildo he wanted.

The next morning after Harold left for work, I cleaned the vibrator and put it away. Since Harold saw where I kept it, I wasn't as concerned about hiding it anymore. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Harold had been working on getting mentally more comfortable with his sexual shortcomings, and wanting me to enjoy sex with him. I knew that took a lot of work on his part, and I appreciated him all the more for it.

That night, when we were in bed, I reassured him that he could still initiate sex whenever he wanted, and I would never say no. It would be his choice whether to use the harness or have me ride him cowgirl style. I wanted my husband to know that I loved him no matter what.

I forgot about the harness until it arrived. I knew what was in the box as soon as I saw it, so I put the package aside for Harold to open. I figured he'd be excited to see the harness he ordered, and I was sure he'd show it to me when he was ready.

A few nights later, Harold told me he wanted to fuck me with the harness. I agreed, undressed, and got into bed. Harold came out of the bathroom with his harness on. I noticed that the harness was black leather, but the brown dildo captured my undivided attention.

I guessed that it was at least 10" long, and somewhat thicker than my vibrator. I knew my pussy was in for a nice surprise.

Harold asked me to get on my hands and knees, and I complied as quickly as I could. He got behind me and fortunately for me, my pussy was already soaked when he thrust that dildo in. Oh my God, that dildo felt like it was tearing me inside until I finally relaxed.

I was surprised when Harold stopped thrusting. I could hear him mumbling, and it took a bit of time before I heard him talk about the harness shifting on him. He decided that it might work better if he was lying on his back, so he lay down and I went into a cowgirl.

The harness didn't slip as much, and I could control my thrusting so much easier. I suppose lying on the bed wasn't as much fun for Harold as fucking me from behind, but I really enjoyed the control I had. And yes, I enjoyed every single boob squeeze and nipple tweak. I wanted my husband to enjoy himself watching me get off.

My husband wanted me to enjoy our sex together, and yes, I was happy and enjoying myself on that brown dildo. That brown dildo made sure my pussy was very very happy. Somehow, we worked it out.