Sports Injuries - The Swimmer

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What happened to my wife?
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Had a break from submitting due to pressure of work. My busy season being in the tourist business. Bit of teasing in this one, but as usual, no hard sex. Hope you enjoy it, but if you want the woman crucified, then just don't come here and complain.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Life was great!

Just turned sixty and fit as a fiddle, and a disposable income that allowed us to do as we pleased, and I could still beat Tim my son-in-law at tennis, and more than hanging on to my single figure handicap at golf. Ok, so it was nine, and the handicap secretary was a drinking pal of mine, but I'd vouch for his integrity in front of anyone.

A lovely wife more than ten years younger than me, who I'd been hitched up to for the last twenty-one years.

So, what could be better?

Mmmmm!

I loved my wife dearly and I just knew that she loved me. Though she was on her way to fifty most people would have thought that she was maybe ten or more years younger. I know you've heard that before, and I know I'm biased, so please just go along with me, will you? She'd always been slim and had never lost it, and though her tight little 'A' cup breasts had filled out a little over the years and the arrival of two, now grown up, children, that wasn't exactly a huge disaster was it? When I met her in her late twenties she never so much as owned a bra, and there she was all those years later still not really needing one.

Not bad eh?

Our early years together had been full of love and passion and our sex drives simply seemed to mesh. Three times a week or three times a day ---- What did it matter? I did worry after ten years or so whether I would be able to keep pace with her as I grew older, and she grew into her sexual prime. Let's face it; a guy of, say forty and a woman of twenty-eight seem well suited. Translate that to, say, fifty-six and forty-four, just as some woman's libido has maximised and the guy might perhaps be slowing down, and the balance may not be the same.

Not saying it concerned me too much that is, but ...... Well, you know don't you?

So, you're probably wondering where this tale is going, and if you think that I'd just discovered that my gorgeous wife Linda was cheating on me, then ........

You couldn't be more wrong!

The 'dreaded change' you see. You know ---- Change of life. The damn menopause.

It came to her swiftly and I never saw it coming. Ok, we'd had our ups and downs in life and during any marriage we'd had periods of intense sexual activity and other times when the pair of us were just too tired. But the last few years had not been so good!

-----------------

One Thursday afternoon I was sitting in the golf clubhouse chatting with some pals of a similar age and some would say juvenile mentality, when the subject of sex came up. Yes, Ok, no great surprise there ---- It was a golf club after all.

It started over which of the three pretty young girls behind the bar was the one most likely to. Though in all honesty, all three of them being in their early twenties, it was never going to be with one of us old fogy's.

One can dream though.

Especially about the little Asian girl with the sexy smile and the tight little body.

"I've forgotten how to do it anyway," admitted Fred sadly, though in all honestly if you'd seen his wife Janet, then you would understand why. Not that he was exactly God's gift to women either, with his beer paunch and all. I guess that's what you got for working in the Foreign Office all day long.

"Once a month, regular as clockwork," chuckled Tom. "But only in a leap year if I can get away with it."

"Not what it used to be, that's for sure," agreed Tony, whose wife was still attractive if a little ..... Well let's say well rounded.

Mick and me just grinned and kept quiet.

Mick's wife Gina was the prettiest little lawyer that you'd ever wish to meet. Nothing like my Linda was of course, but not at all bad.

"You lucky bastard Gerald," called out Tom looking over at me. "If my wife looked like your Linda then I'd probably give up golf."

"If your wife looked like Linda," quipped Tony. "You'd probably never have started to play golf."

"He still can't," joined in Fred, and from there on the conversation took a nose dive as we all gave our opinions on just how bad each other's game was.

------------------

A pint or two later and it was time to leave and go home, and there were a number of remarks and comments flying round the car park as to who'd be in a hurry to get home to his wife.

"I might take the ring road," yelled out Tom. "Never know, I might get delayed in a traffic jam."

"Think I'll go by way of Birmingham," mumbled Tony, which was at least a hundred miles in the wrong direction.

"Think I might go by way of Gerald's house," joked Mick, giving me a friendly punch on the shoulder. "Why don't you lot take him for a drink or three somewhere else, while I go and see if Linda wants to play?"

"Get in the queue dreamer," laughed one of the others. "I've still got a hard on from when Linda came round our place to pick up my missus in that little tennis outfit of hers."

"Down boys," I joined in. "Or I won't tell you lot what Linda looked like in her bikini when we come back from Spain after the week end."

"If she goes topless Gerald, then just don't tell us," groaned Tony, pulling a face. "We really wouldn't want to have to think about it."

"What?" I questioned them heartily. "You won't want to see the holiday photos?"

Tom did his well known, but incredibly poor wolf howling impression, which hadn't improved since his student days at Cambridge, and the whole lot of us, a beer or to in each of us, laughed and cajoled one another.

Yes all good-natured, and none of them of course had any intentions of doing anything but return to the comfort of their homes and to spend the evening with their spouses.

Me to!

Trouble was as I carefully threaded my way out of the car park in my Bentley, well aware that I should still be under, but none the less close to the legal limit, I reflected on my life, and my beautiful wife Linda.

It was of course true, that my pals had reason to be jealous of me having a wife that looked as lovely as mine did.

Linda was gorgeous. In her early forties, she'd put just a little bit of weight on, but then she'd started to play regular tennis again, and for all I knew stopped eating so many of those damn chocolates. She'd shed several pounds and was once again a slim, trim eight stone or so, with the right bits in all the right places. She still seldom wore a bra and her breasts were still firm and perky, and with her legs she could have still worn a micro skirt. She didn't of course, my Linda being too stylish and knew better, though as they'd pointed out, she still looked fantastic in her tiny tennis dresses.

I was lucky really!

Except of course for that damn menopause thing.

It had sneaked up on us without me even noticing, taking hold of her a couple of years before when I was working all hours on a company take-over I was deeply involved in and hardly had time to think about it. Then one day I woke up and suddenly realised that Linda and I hadn't made love for some months. Damn it, it was worse than that. The last time I could remember having sex with her was before Christmas, and that had been nearly six months before. I could hardly believe that I had been so lacking and determined to put it right that very evening.

Roses, red ones of course, and a bottle of Champagne and a wonderful meal and I was all up and ready.

You've guessed it, right?

Linda wasn't.

We had a lovely evening, but instead of it ending with an all action night in bed, it fizzled out with a talk round the table. She explained to me the unknown intricacies of a woman's life cycle, which few men could really comprehend even if they wanted to.

And few did!

Afraid that I wasn't much above average there, but the end result was that I understood Linda had this problem that we were going to have to live through. Fortunately she wasn't having the mood swings that many women go through, but her sex drive had driven through the floor.

"I'll get over it," she told me confidently. "Most of my friends have it or have had it, and it just takes time."

"How much time?" I asked, maybe a little unfeelingly.

"Can't say Gerald honey," Linda told me. "Maybe another six months or so or maybe a bit longer."

I could wait.

Crikey, we hadn't had sex since last Christmas and I'd been so tied up with my expanding business empire that I'd hardly noticed.

I could wait.

-------------------

Six months and to be honest a bit more had passed, and though we cuddled up in bed like we'd always done and nobody outside would have realised that anything was amiss, she showed no sign of getting over it. We went to a Harley Street specialist together, but no joy there.

"Just have to wait," the good doctor told me. "It's not Linda's fault. She can't help it."

All right for him. He wasn't suffering.

The only relief that I got, other than self administered, was the occasional hand job from Linda when things got too bad. Absolutely no chance of a blowjob as she'd hated doing that before when things were Ok, and even though she tried to hide it, even her hand jobs were half hearted at best.

I was allowed to rest my hand on her breasts when we were in bed, as long as I didn't rub them or play with her nipple. If my hand ventured too near to her pussy that I had loved so much, then all hell broke out, her accusing me of being a sex maniac.

Not easy!

So that was the situation I found myself in as I pulled my Bentley into our drive that evening.

I had the most beautiful wife of all my pals but I was frustrated to hell. At that point I could have happily swapped Linda for any one of them.

Well! Perhaps not Tom's wife, and certainly not ........

Oh fuck it!

------------------

Linda was in a very good mood as we got off the plane in the warmth of Spain, where we'd booked a long weekend to getaway from the long drudgery of the UK in winter.

Whatever ----- We were going to have a good time.

The hotel was great, but then it should have been for what we had paid. No cheap bargain week-ends for me and my missus.

We just had time to catch the last rays of sunshine round the hotel pool, but despite my encouragement Linda wouldn't go topless.

"Tomorrow," she promised me. "But not round the pool where everyone will know us. We'll find a nice beach somewhere."

Well ----- A promise was a promise, and we enjoyed the rest of the evening with a great meal in the hotel restaurant, and got chatting to a few other residents before retiring to bed.

------------------

The next morning ------ No real action the night before, by the way.

Sure enough, and good to her word, once we'd found a nice spot on the local beach, Linda sighed loudly and slipped out of her bikini top.

As I've said ----- She was lovely and as far as I was concerned was the match of any of the twenty year olds who were dotted around.

Ok ---Ok! I admit it. I did spend some time checking out a number of them out, but just to make sure that my Linda was as good as any of them.

OK ---- OK! At nineteen or twenty those young girls simply looked a bit different, but even so, my Linda did at least stand comparison.

Linda got her magazine out and was soon lost in some article, while I checked out the guys who were checking out Linda, and really quite enjoyed it. I eventually picked up my book but found it hard to concentrate; peeping over the top to ogle yet another passing topless beauty, as much, if not more, than I read the words on the page.

It was pretty hot!

The weather I mean!

"I'm going for a dip Linda," I told her. "Are you coming?"

"Not yet," she replied absently. "You go Gerald. I want to finish this story about Pillow cases."

Pillowcases?

Bloody pillowcases?

Here's me wanting to walk down to the water with my lovely wife showing her gorgeous little tits off to the world, and she wants to read about pillow cases.

No accounting for women!

"Don't go out too far honey," she called as I wandered off. "You know you can't swim very well."

Oh damn it!

That just wrecked my image to the two young twenty something year olds that were sunbathing nearby. Hardly worth holding my tummy in after that, was there.

I splashed and jumped around in the water, and yes I even swum a little just to prove to myself that I still could. With a wry smile I told myself that I could probably beat most of the fit young men showing off around me at tennis, even if I was nothing special in the water.

Each to his own is what I say.

Suitably cooled down, found me wandering back up the beach, trying to not look too obvious as I eyed up the near naked girls that lay all around. This was indeed the life.

Then I spotted Linda lying there looking so fantastic, and talking to ......!

Who the hell was she talking to?

Where the hell had he sprung from?

As I got closer I realised that some guy in perhaps his mid thirties or so had parked himself right alongside my Linda. Christ, you leave them alone for a few minutes and look what they get up to. The closer I got, then the more I realised what a fine specimen he was. Damn it!

He looked a bit taller than me – bit better looking than me – bit slimmer than me and for absolute sure, a damn site younger than me. At least he didn't have a fine head of pure white hair like I did.

Bet your bloody life he didn't, the bastard!

"Gerald," Linda greeted me as I strode up to the pair of them. "This is Miguel from Barcelona who's down here for a couple of days on business."

We shook hands!

If he was disappointed that Linda's hubby had shown up then he covered it well, and I made my very best efforts to hide my obvious concerns.

"Miguel wants to practice his English," Linda informed me once the formalities were over. "He asked me if I wouldn't mind talking with him for a while."

'Yes, I bet the bugger does,' I thought to myself.

"Oh, that would be nice," I actually said, acutely aware that my wife's bare right breast was sticking out, her hard nipple no more than a few inches from his muscular suntanned arm. One false move and .....

"Yes," Miguel took up the conversation. "I have been to England several times, but I don't get much chance to practice it with the job I do now."

I nodded politely, deciding not to point out to Linda that her Miguel spoke perfectly good English already, with only a small trace of an accent. The way she was smiling at him, I'm not sure she would have taken any notice anyway.

"Linda," he said to her. "You should be careful in this hot sun. With your delicate English skin, you really should have some more sun tan oil on."

Oh no you don't, you cheeky bugger!

I made a grab for the sun cream before he could offer his services and without waiting for an OK from her, started to apply it on Linda. Quite pleasant actually.

Having done her legs I moved up to her body and suddenly found myself in a spot. Linda hadn't let me rub her breasts in any way for some long time, and they were surely next.

I hesitated.

"Get on with it honey," Linda encouraged me. "Don't be shy."

I took a big breath and glanced over at Miguel, who promptly gave me a huge grin. I couldn't help but grin back. Sort of a pair of conspirators caught out during their dirty deeds --- I actually found myself warming to the guy.

We both laughed and I carried on with my task, enjoying the feeling of rubbing the cream liberally all over Linda's lovely tight breasts, and relishing the feel of her rock hard nipples as they caught on my hand.

The fact that this was the first time she'd let me do this in years was not lost on me, especially since she was letting me do it in public, with this Adonis fellow close up and looking on with interest.

"I think your wife is enjoying that my friend," he remarked, smiling widely.

"That's enough Gerald," butted in my somewhat embarrassed wife, pushing my hand away, but flashing me a grin as she did so.

Well!

This wasn't so bad after all was it?

For the next half hour or more we exchanged banter, and we found out quite a lot about our new young friend, and he about us. Not once did Miguel make any false moves as it were, though he made no pretence that he wasn't enjoying the sight of Linda in just her tiny bikini bottoms lying there just a few inches from him, her bare tits and hard nipples almost dominating the situation.

"Wish I was still your age Miguel," I tried baiting him. "With all these gorgeous young girls around, you must have a great time."

"Sometimes Gerald," he replied. "But you are the lucky one to have such a beautiful sexy wife as Linda here. She is the most fantastic girl on the beach today."

He grinned at me and I smiled back. Linda's face turned red, so embarrassed that she turned over on her front to avoid having to face us.

"Nice arse as well," whispered Miguel to me, but just loud enough so that Linda could hear.

------------------

We all decided that it was getting too hot in the midday sun, and that we were ready for lunch anyway. We went off back to our hotel and Miguel went off to wherever he went.

"If you come back this afternoon," he suggested as he left. "I'll be about half a kilometre further up the beach where I was yesterday. It's a lot less crowded, so why don't you join me?"

"We'd love to," piped up Linda, before I could even think about it. "How would we find you?"

"I'll be just to the right of the beach guards pole," he told her. "You can't miss it."

"Why's it less crowded then?" I asked casually.

"It just is," he grinned. He grinned a lot did Miguel.

"Why didn't you go there this morning then?" I queried, a bit puzzled.

Miguel glanced over at Linda, looked her slowly up and down, then back at me, before replying, "The scenery looked so much better here this morning."

"We'll see you there about three then," threw in Linda blushing furiously, and Miguel said that would be fine.

"He fancied you Linda," I pointed out the obvious as we walked off in different directions.

"Don't be silly Gerald," she gushed back. "I'm old enough to be his mother."

"Not quite," I disagreed. "But it didn't mean he didn't have the hots for you."

"Oh Gerald. You and your imagination. All he wanted was to practice his English with us. He wouldn't be interested in me, any more than I would fancy him."

"Are you saying you didn't?" I challenged her.

"Don't be silly," Linda almost choked on, blushing the brightest red that I have ever seen, as she grabbed my arm and dragged me back to the hotel.

Rather amusing really, but good job I'm not the jealous type.

Back at the hotel, Linda was acting a little strangely, almost coquettish, a side that I hadn't seen in her for quite some time. Instead of pulling away from me when I put my arm round her waist, as she would normally have done of late, she actually snuggled up closer.

Well if this was how things were going, then I could put up with a few more Miguel's in our life.

During lunch we chatting openly about all sorts of things, but Linda studiously avoided any mention of our new friend. What we were going to do that afternoon and where we might be going to do it were noticeably not discussed. It was really quite amusing, and I wondered how she would bring the subject up, and how long it would take.

"What are we going to do this afternoon then?" she asked eventually as we sat drinking our coffee, obviously having given up on me broaching the subject.

"We could play tennis," I suggested somewhat mischievously.

"It's too hot," she replied. "Maybe later this evening."

"We could go on that trip to the lace making place," I ventured, but that didn't go down well either. I grinned, thinking about how keen she'd been earlier when I had declined the suggestion.

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