Sharing the Love

A/N - Hello! I'm back with another 'Loving Wives' tale. The feedback I received for my first attempt was generally pretty good, the one general criticism being the lack of an answer to the question of 'Why did the wife cheat?' Took that criticism on board, so if I ever write a similar tale (cheating wife etc) I'll ensure I answer that question by the end.

However, during my time reading many of the stories within this category, they seem to fall into a few different sub-categories - cheating wives and a husband's revenge or reconciliation, cuckolding, couples enjoying group sex, or a wife being gangbanged. I'm sure there are others popular sub-genres, but that's mostly what I've seen from browsing.

Basically, the website describes the 'Loving Wives' category as 'Married extra marital fun: Swinging, sharing and more'. This story does fit that description though perhaps not in the way always expected.

The orientation described in this story will not be entirely accurate but, as this is fiction, I'm hoping you can forgive that it's a simplified example. While I'm sure there are perhaps similar stories to what is to come, I'm hoping it'll be unique enough to earn your interest. It's a mixture again of 'Loving Wives' and 'Romance'.

Usual caveats. All editing and reviewing done by the author with Microsoft Word. Spelling is usually spot on. Australian / British English. Definitely the occasional typo. Grammar can be ropey at times, but it's been a long time since I sat in a classroom. All mistakes owned up to by the author. Please remember this is only fantasy and I'm an amateur.

Comments and feedback appreciated as always.

*****

Cathy

Sipping at her glass of wine, she rose from the couch again, almost wearing a groove into the carpet as she paced the living room, waiting to hear his car in the driveway outside. The kids were home and in their rooms, completing their homework. Dinner was in the oven, ready to eat as soon as he was inside. It was the conversation that needed to take place after their evening meal which scared her to death.

Walking back into the kitchen, she was ready to pour another glass but stopped herself. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, willing her hands to stop shaking. If it wasn't her hands, it was the tears that wanted to escape her. What she was about to tell her husband could potentially end their marriage. But it was time to be honest about their relationship but, more importantly, herself.

Hearing his car pull up outside, she smoothed down his favourite dress, quickly checked herself in the mirror, waiting for him to appear through the door. She waited near the front door, ready to hug and kiss him like she did every evening. Though the kids were now both in high school, she still only worked part-time, preferring to be home when they left in the morning and returned in the afternoon.

"Hey, babe," her husband stated, flashing her that smile he always had for her. Dropping his bag, he hugged her tightly. Her emotions almost got the better of her as she held him tightly in return.

"Hello, honey. Good day?"

"Same shit, different day."

She chuckled as that was his usual response. But she knew he loved what he did. He'd been a mechanic since he left high school but was now an area manager, looking after a group of workshops in the western parts of the city. Kissing her on the lips, it was never a peck or chaste kiss. Even after fifteen years of marriage, his passion for her still ran hot. It's what would make their conversation later so difficult. Her husband loved her with ever fibre of his being, doted on their daughter and son, and was loved and adored by friends and family alike.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he guided her to the kitchen, hearing him sniff. "You're cooking lasagna?"

"My specialty. Just for my honey bear." She called him that as he had a rather hairy chest, he'd grown a beard, and, well, he kept her warm like a bear in hibernation whenever they were in bed.

She squealed as he squeezed her tightly, leaving another kiss on her lips. "Thank you, babe. You know I love your lasagna. Still not sure what you put in it though." Her glanced into her green eyes. "Still think it's cocaine."

Giggling, she playfully slapped his shoulder. "Stop being silly and go wash up before dinner."

"Yes, babe. One thing though." Before she could escape, she was in his arms again, laying another smooch of her lips. She kissed him back. She'd always loved kissing him. "That'll get me through the next few minutes."

Sighing to herself as he walked away, she retrieved the oven dish and garlic bread from the oven, the bowl of salad from the fridge. Calling down their two children, their daughter, Chloe, appeared first, setting the table without being asked. Despite being a sometimes moody thirteen-year-old, she helped around the house with chores, knowing it was the only way she'd make pocket money. Their eleven-year-old son, Charlie, followed within a couple of minutes, sitting at the table, playing on his handheld gaming device. Chloe made a comment about his lack of assistance. Thankfully, there was no argument as Charlie wasn't listening.

Her husband, Mark, walked in just as she was serving up. Wearing a simple t-shirt and shorts, she couldn't help look him up and down like she did every day. She knew how handsome he was as most of her girlfriends thought the same thing. Now forty years old, he'd simply grown more handsome with age. She sometimes wondered why he was even still with her considering the main issue with their marriage. She knew, if they were to split up, he wouldn't be single for long.

Helping her serve everything, there was the usual chit-chat about their days, the two parents showing plenty of interest in their children. Their daughter was now in high school and there was the usual drama with friends. Their son was still in primary school and enjoyed going to school every day. Mark talked briefly about his day, still desiring to be on the workshop floor, but the salary he now earned, and the responsibility meant it was worth it.

Husband and children cleaned up as she disappeared to the living room to relax, Mark walking out with a glass of wine for her. "Thank you," she stated, smiling up at him. She heard chuckling from the kitchen a few minutes later, her husband no doubt regaling their children with amusing stories, whether from his day or just making things up to earn their laughter.

Sitting down beside her once that was done, she cuddled into his side, the kids taking an armchair each, spending a couple of hours as a family before their son disappeared to play his games console and their daughter wanted to spend time talking to her friends. Leaving husband and wife together, Cathy picked up the remote and turned off the television.

"Mark, we need to talk."

She felt him flinch, aware of how that might sound. She knew most conversations that started with those four words could sometimes lead to heartbreak, anger, recriminations, accusations, and gods only knew what. Turning to face him, she looked at his face and saw the concern. He took a deep breath before he met her eyes. "Lay it on me, babe. What's up?"

He sounded so casual, but she knew his heart would be beating like mad. But when he took his hand in hers, she almost burst into tears. She could be about to ask for divorce, but he could still sense her own nerves and wanted to comfort her, just like he'd done during their entire life together.

Taking a deep breath, she drained her wine glass, placing it on the small table next to the couch, before meeting his eyes again. "Mark, I love you."

"I love you too, babe. You're my moon and my stars."

She leaned in and kissed his cheek. He said that to her nearly every day. She knew how much he loved her. He was devoted to her as a husband more than any other husband she knew, even her own father, even his father to his mother.

"Mark, I've got something to confess. For a long time now, for years, probably most of my life, I've always felt a little different. I wasn't sure what it was, but it was something in my mind that just... I'm not really sure how to explain it all."

The squeeze of her hand made her smile. "Take your time, Catherine," he said softly, though the use of her full name indicated to her that she knew this was serious, "Just one question. You don't want to leave me, do you?"

"God no! Not at all!"

"Okay, then I'm all ears. We have all night, babe."

"Mark, I've been going to see a therapist for around six months."

"Oh..."

"I'm sorry, honey, but I wasn't sure how to explain it because it was so deeply personal. But I needed help to figure out what my problem is. It took a lot of discussions with her, but I can finally admit what my problem is. And because of the problem, it will impact our relationship going forward. And what hurts is that I'm going to leave the decision in your hands because there will be things I won't feel comfortable doing going forward. I haven't felt comfortable doing them most of my life."

He turned towards her, using his large thumb to wipe away the tears escaping her. "Babe, I hate seeing you like this. You know that."

She took a deep breath. "Mark, I'm still so attracted to you, it's not funny. I have been since the day we met. You're the only man I've ever felt any sort of attraction to. I was twenty-two when we met, and I'd never felt anything for a man before. I honestly thought, before meeting you, I was defective. Wasn't a lesbian as I didn't find women attractive either."

"Well, I'm definitely attracted to you, babe. I think you're smoking hot nowadays. You in a bikini rocking your current body? I'll need a shotgun to keep the men away."

Giggling, she playfully slapped his shoulder. "Be serious, Mark."

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he smiled. "Okay, okay, I know."

"Mark, this next bit is going to hurt. I wasn't a virgin before I met you, but I never enjoyed sex. I've never experienced what I'd call sexual desire. I thought I felt it for you. I was attracted to you, and I thought sex was just something couples did. But I've never felt a need or desire to have sex, whether it was you or anyone else. I could have gone through life not wanting nor desiring sex and I can sit here now and categorically state I could go the rest of my life without it. It took a long time to figure out what's wrong with me. Well, saying 'wrong' is incorrect. It just took time for my condition to have a name."

"What is it?"

"I'm what they call asexual, honey. I have romantic feelings for you. I love you so much and I am attracted to you. But I've never had any desire for sex my entire life. I have sex now because I want to please you. I wanted children so it was necessary to have sex with my husband, but I could have happily lived the past decade without having sex at all. I only have done so because I love making you happy."

She could see the words upset him, to hear that his wife had no sexual desire for her husband. But it wasn't his fault. There wasn't a single man on the planet that excited her. It was just something that didn't happen. She just didn't need or want sex. Never had, never would.

Looking into his eyes, she could see he was deep in thought. What made her smile was the fact his body had turned to hers and he now held both her hands. He finally took a deep breath, one of his hands caressing her cheek. Just that simple gesture caused another tear to fall. "So what do we do, Cathy?"

"I don't know," she replied softly, "But I know you will want to have sex with your wife, but I can't put myself through it anymore." She squeezed his hand. "I do orgasm with you, I promise you that, but I derive no actual pleasure from it. I could go the rest of my life without experiencing one and it won't bother me. I want to remain as your wife but... I know as a forty-year-old man, you won't want your sex life to end now."

"But I can't have sex with my wife if I know she has no desire for it. I'd feel like a rapist if I forced the issue going forward."

"No!" she cried, hugging him tightly, relieved when she hugged him back, "Never, honey. Never, ever, ever. I gave myself to you because I love you, not through any sense of obligation. But..."

Rubbing her back, he softly shushed her. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply and urged herself to relax. "What do we do, babe?" he asked softly.

"Come with to my next therapy session. My therapist wants to talk to you, explain more about my condition, and then we can discuss our next steps."

"You don't want to leave me?"

"I want to grow old with you, honey. I'm worried you'll want to divorce me."

"Never," he whispered, "You're my moon and my stars. We're going to grow old together, babe. It's just... The idea of not being intimate with you again..."

"I know it's not fair, but I have to be honest with myself, and doing that means being honest with the love of my life."

He hugged her for a long time as he was out of questions or simply away with his thoughts. She'd just dumped a lot on him. She knew his heart would be broken, to hear his wife would happily not have sex again. She no doubt had other thoughts. Was she having an affair? She knew he'd now be thinking that. But the idea of cuckolding the man she loved? The very idea was abhorrent.

Then again, what her therapist had suggested would mean a slight adjustment of their vows if they agreed.

It had been an emotionally exhausting evening for them both. Having been on tenterhooks for a couple of weeks, the idea that she'd now be relaxed didn't happen. Stripping off before getting into bed, she knew getting dressed in something sexy, turning on her husband, would be unfair on him. So she slipped on a t-shirt over her panties. It was one of his shirts, so it was long enough to cover her arse.

Sliding into bed next to her, he turned off the light and immediately pulled her into his body. He would have felt the hot tears falling on his shoulder as she clutched him tighter than ever. "It's okay, babe," he whispered, "We'll figure it out together." Pausing, he added, "Guess it explains the lack of sex though."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, relieved when he immediately cuddled her tighter.

"Cathy, you were dealing with something important. While I was growing, well, frustrated, if I had known... Secrets are not good for a marriage."

"I know. That's why you're coming with me to my next session. No more secrets, I promise."

Having got what she needed off her chest, she slept like a log that night in the arms of her husband. Waking up spooned back against him, she felt his erection pressing into her and immediately felt guilt. It was something she felt most mornings when waking, but she sighed as memories of what she confessed the previous night flooded back. Then she felt him kiss her cheek.

"Morning, babe."

"Morning, honey."

"Is this okay? Cuddling and kissing?"

"I feel loved right now, in the arms of my husband. But I never have that innate desire to... To be physical, Mark."

"Never?"

"I had around half a dozen boyfriends before you, Mark. I never felt anything for them like I felt for you. Sex was horrible. I hated every moment. I managed to find enjoyment in it with you because I love you so much, and because you put all your love for me into being intimate, but I can't keep putting myself through it."

"We'll figure something out, babe. We're a team."

She rolled over onto her other side and kissed him. "I love you, honey. Please never doubt that."

"I don't doubt it at all."

Getting out of bed, her husband showered first before she followed him. Getting dressed, they helped get the kids up and ready for school. Mark always left before the kids, and she was only required at her job at 9am, leaving no later than 3pm. Walking him to the door, she hugged him tightly as she did every morning, the kiss loving as always. None of that peck on the cheek nonsense. She loved her husband and wanted to show that in any was possible she was comfortable with.

She was surprised when he arrived home on Friday night a little earlier than normal, and her parents arrived no more than fifteen minutes later. As soon as they walked in the door and stated they'd be babysitting, she looked at her husband and smiled.

"Date night," he stated, "Now while you look stunning as always, we're going out dinner and dancing."

"Give me, um... I need to shower. Do my hair."

"Babe, it's okay. No reservations but we are going to your favourite restaurant."

She kissed him again. "I'll be ready as quickly as I can."

She was fairly sure that her father asked him if was in trouble, hearing him laugh while his mother asked her father when she was getting a night out for dinner and dancing. She was already in the bathroom before he replied. Once she was done with the shower, Mark took his turn before they got dressed. He didn't take too long, leaving her in peace to do her hair and face.

Noticing his eyes light up, Cathy did a little pirouette before he walked towards her. Taking her by the hand, he told her parents that they'd be home at a reasonable time. Kissing their children goodnight, the fact he was driving told her that he wasn't going to drink too much, telling herself she'd limit herself to a glass or two of wine.

The food at her favourite restaurant was exquisite as always. Conversation flowed easily as always. Fifteen years of marriage and knowing each other for eighteen years, they could still talk for hours about anything that came to mind. Neither seemed willing to discuss what was discussed earlier in the week to start before she finally had to ask, "Is tonight because of what I told you earlier?"

"Tonight is simply to take my wife out on a date and show her that I still love her, no matter what."

"Mark, I think you're almost too understanding about this."

"I don't really understand when you told me the other night, so I've done the smart thing and done a little research. However, I figured I'd save most questions for when we sit down in therapy. Still on for Tuesday next week?"

"Yes. Doctor Fraser, well, Amelia, she knows you'll be coming. She'll explain my orientation even better than I can, then she will start making some suggestions that I've already agreed to."

"I hesitate to ask..."

She took his hand and squeezed it, giving him a warm smile. "All your questions will be answered on Tuesday afternoon, honey. I promise."

"Can I ask a really blunt and perhaps vulgar question?"

"You can ask me anything."

"Um, when we're being intimate... You still... You know, got excited..."

She leaned forward, feeling her cheeks grow warm. "You mean I get nice and wet for my husband?"

"Yeah," he replied softly, enjoying the slight blush that appeared.

"I might not desire sex, Mark, but my husband could still push my buttons enough that my body would naturally react. And in the moment, I wanted to give myself to you. It's biology and psychology working together."

"I'm still a little confused. You never gave me any indication you were uncomfortable, and that just made me feel..."

She squeezed his hand again. "Mark, honey, I promise you one thing. You've never hurt me. You've never made me do anything I wasn't willing to do for you. The issue is with me and me alone. Trust me on this, there is a way to get around this. Amelia will explain everything."

He didn't take her to a club but the place they ended up played music that they could dance to. Holding her in his strong arms, she rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes, almost feeling his heart beating as he caressed her back. Anyone watching would have seen a married couple still deeply in love. She also felt his excitement for her and again felt that pang of guilt. There was still that part of her brain that wanted to give herself physically to him but it had been getting more difficult every passing year.