Spreading My Wings Ch. 01

We still communicated well at this point. We both considered our loss of sexual appetite as a fact of life that we would accept. We preferred to remain married, even under nearly sexless conditions. We went long periods without attempting intimacy. Sometimes, we used oral to please each other, while at other times, we tried to use it as foreplay, mostly without success.

I didn't know how deeply my husband fretted over his problems being solely responsible. We stopped talking about sex; then stopped talking about many things. Our home life became hostile. He'd hole up in his computer room and I'd watch TV alone. If one of us went to bed, the other stayed up hours later. My business took over our house; his castle was no longer his haven.

I had two brothers come live with us; one of them stayed seven years rent-free. Instead of being empty-nesters, we had constant company which dramatically affected our privacy. The efforts I put into making my siblings feel at home ignored my husband's similar needs. Jack found it difficult to tolerate the situation but silently endured because he was family. I didn't recognize how much I let my brother use me until he reneged on his promise to help me when our home went into foreclosure.

We added financial problems. My business income fluctuated but my spending didn't. I demanded major remodeling projects and put on elaborate weddings for our two daughters. We used the housing boom equity in our home as an ATM. We refinanced several times, getting good rates, but keeping the mortgaged amount near market value. We would have to work until he was 75 to pay off our debt. I was getting bad business and relationship advice, from my own daughter of all people.

We started fighting over everything, if we spoke at all. When my husband shocked me with a proposal that I find another man to be my sexual partner, I thought he was setting me up for divorce. Even though we discussed it three times and he insisted he thought that if I was happy and satisfied, then our relationship would improve, I did not believe or trust him. I didn't want sex anyway. I began to doubt we would stay married.

Our world crashed when my husband lost his job because of the economy. Always able to find work before, he discovered nobody cared to hire a 60-something, talented and well-paid man when kids fresh out of school worked for less than half his salary. In a two-year spiral, we lost everything, our savings, our house, my business. He did spend hours every day looking for work, but I thought he spent too much time watching porn. His new interests insulted me when he had none for me. Our fights became epic and included slamming-door exits.

When we had to move, we lived separately for a year, each with one of our daughters. Family visits were feisty or icy; we couldn't talk without listing all the old wrongs and faults. Our oldest daughter said I should end our marriage; I believed it would be for the best. I left the state to live with my sister for a couple of months. Angry that I was walking out on him, he demanded that I decide our future once and for all. After many angry words and lots of crying, I admitted I was ready to get a divorce.

Turning back from divorce plans.

Faced with ending my marriage, I spent several days unable to get out of bed. My eyes were puffy and red most of the time. My family had two opinions: Don't be hasty or don't leave him at all; none said ending our marriage was the answer. Our kids reported that they worried about their father's depression so much they had an intervention-like meeting with him. They were relieved to find him calm and realistic. He was resigned to the path we had chosen. There was regret, but no bitterness. He took all the blame. He promised he had no intention to do himself harm.

Five days passed before he called me again. We politely discussed what we had to do. He would talk to a lawyer; I should also. He mentioned a short-term consulting job that gave him some living money. He signed up to start getting his Social Security benefits early so he could live on his own. Three days later, we talked about our lawyer visits. We each had the same story. We had zero assets and grown children. Our best course would be no-fault divorce without lawyers. We continued talking almost two hours, the longest stretch without a harsh word in years. We focused on how we used to solve our differences and recognized how our fighting cost us everything. He took responsibility for failing me as a husband and lover while never pointing at any of my failures. Introspection prodded me to drop my defensive beliefs and soon I recognized my own terrible behavior.

Our talks continued to brighten. With nothing left to fight over, we reminisced about the things we used to enjoy. I stayed in Tennessee two more weeks to care for my ailing father. Despite civil conversations, I was still planning to return to Illinois as the place residency requirements would allow us to file for divorce immediately. Two days before leaving, we talked about where I would stay. Should we share his bed? A powerful longing pulled at me. His voice broke in mid-sentence; heart-wrenching sobs filled my ear. He tearfully offered apologies and promises in a plea for one last chance to make his princess happy. The man I married was worth another try. We shelved divorce plans. I was going back to him to see if we could work things out.

Driving six-hundred miles in my brother's old beater (no power steering, no air conditioning) was taxing. Without a radio, I was alone with my thoughts; I was eager to get there but wondered how we would act. I stopped a block away to say a prayer, hoping to quell my nervous doubts. When I pulled in the driveway, he stepped out the door. He looked haggard and noticeably thinner. I didn't want a happy-to-have-you-back, let's-forget-everything reaction but he didn't even smile. I saw his jaw clenched in a familiar manner to hold his emotions in check.

We met half way and wrapped our arms around each other. His shoulders quaked briefly and sobs jerked his breath. Our granddaughters clamoring for attention ended our silent hug followed by greetings from our daughter. The only affection we shared for several hours while visiting with all our kids and grandchildren was holding hands. I felt welcoming comfort flow from his touch. During an hour-long walk, we talked about our future. He promised that he would never again allow any hard feeling or misunderstanding to come between us. His only goal was to make me happy like he used to. We stopped on the river-walk to share a kiss, a reenactment of the first time he ever kissed me.

Our initial progress was cautious; we each wondered how committed the other was. Recent arguing habits had to be broken. With none of the material things left to fight about, and hours spent in conversation every day, we constructed a dream of a golden life we could pursue. There were some bumps, but the more we committed, the more we believed. We patched what had been good in our relationship into something new.

Restoring our intimacy was harder and the bumps were bigger. We did not want to have sex in our daughter's home where we stayed. We used a coupon from his casino membership rewards to get a free night's stay at the casino's hotel. Without telling me, he took one of his remaining Cialis pills before we left home. After we checked in an hour later, we watched the sunset while cuddling on the bed. Romantic talk led to soft kisses; his gentle hands caressing me all over.

Because he didn't rush the moment, he overcame my nervousness. He seduced me with the skills that had made him my lifelong lover. His tongue re-awakened my body that hadn't experienced an orgasm in over two years (no, I didn't even masturbate.) I had no expectations for intercourse, content to enjoy several oral delights, so I was surprised when he entered me. I was well lubricated from the cunnilingus, maybe too hot and wet. He came too quickly for me to have a vaginal orgasm but his vocal reactions to his completion gave me intense satisfaction.

We enjoyed a buffet dinner and several hours of gaming. Back in the room, we snuggled while watching a movie until I feel asleep. I felt bad about that because I think he wanted to work me over again. After a morning pee, I pulled back the covers to climb back in bed only to find his penis standing tall. He awoke when my mouth covered him. We decided to take immediate advantage of his erection. I lubed up with Vagisil to get started. He was hard enough to push deep and durable enough to give me two orgasms before he came.

I thought his problems might be behind us but discussions warned me otherwise. He admitted his Cialis use, but reminded me that previous uses had failed more often than succeeded. He talked about even failing masturbation attempts sometimes. His warnings were proven out a few weeks later when we used a relative's vacation home for a weekend getaway. Although he again took Cialis, he could not get hard and there was no penetration.

Our marriage was saved none-the-less. We enjoyed each other's company, took long walks, and talked about everything. We agreed we occasionally needed our own space, time to pursue our own interests, but always preferred to be together. We acknowledged these elements of our relationship were enough to keep us happy despite less than stellar sexual experiences.

A financial windfall got us on our feet. His AT&T pension, which wasn't scheduled to begin monthly disbursements for two years, suddenly offered an early lump-sum payout. We put most of it into an IRA savings and kept enough to move what belongings we had stored and set up as renters in a warmer climate. My husband continued to apply for jobs both in Information Technology and all types of part time labor but nobody contacted him for an interview. At the same time, I found several jobs. With Social Security, my pay, and occasional IRA withdrawals, we are living comfortably in retirement.

Essentially, we are on permanent vacation, able to enjoy whatever activity we choose on a whim. Bike riding, nature walks, and snorkeling keep us active. We take advantage of the senior discount days at the theater, sample the many restaurants in our resort region, and bump elbows with the tourists in shops and nightclubs. We are the goofy old couple who hug and kiss while shopping at Walmart. Not a week goes by that doesn't have at least one walk on the beach at sunset. All so romantic, so enjoyable, but still missing an important ingredient.

Sex with others.

My husband was careful not to dump heavy confessions on me when I still felt uncertain about our future, but eventually I learned about everything that went on during the period when our communications had gone dead. When he told me what he knew about his problems, he admitted it came from research and experimentation. According to every medical professional he spoke to about it, his weight problems had the strongest bearing on his erectile dysfunction. Yet his weight loss caused by depression over divorce discussions didn't create a consistent performance improvement. His blood sugar bounced around the diabetes threshold, another known factor. Some of the eight medications he takes every day are linked to ED in medical studies. The clogged arteries in his heart are likely systemic, yet not much work is being done to stent penis blood supply.

When we separated, he questioned his manhood. He sometimes had trouble masturbating but persistence usually succeeded, so he wondered how much of his failure with me in recent years was from lack of desire for me. He wasn't ready to look for a girlfriend, thus he decided to get impersonal, paid sex; a five-month employment stint flushed his wallet enough to afford it.

First, he visited a 'rub-n-tug'. He had researched the happy ending culture and knew to say he had been there before but she treated him like a first-timer and possible law enforcement. She refused to wash his genitals during the table shower. She kept him draped throughout. When she said the massage was done, neither of them mentioned a happy ending directly as they struggled with their language barrier while talking about him not being pleased. He found a magic word when he said 'please' in Korean. She put one hand on his stomach, placed one of his on hers, and asked, "Where more?" His hand guided hers to his penis and she gave him a handjob.

Afterwards, he was disappointed. The massage was short, poor, and expensive. They charge for an hour but barely rub half that long, and then expect a hefty tip for the happy ending. The orgasm was weaker than when his own hand provides the stimulation and he was disappointed that he didn't get more excitement from being naked with a strange lady. Despite his misgivings, he went back for another.

On the second visit, the woman gave him more of a girlfriend experience. She greeted him with a hug and pressed her body against him. The table shower included significant attention to his cock and butt. The massage was undraped and sensually teasing. After the flip, she went straight for the handjob despite him being completely flaccid. When she stopped after getting pre-cum only, they argued over whether he had an orgasm. Only when he threatened, "No happy, no tip," did she continue stroking.

To encourage him, she pulled up her shirt and bra and placed his hands on her breasts. When he made moves to touch her pussy, she obliged by pushing her pants and panties to her knees. She leaned over to let him suck her nipples and his finger entered her vagina. The sex act was ridiculous. Her clothes were merely pushed aside but not removed. Her contortions to pump his cock with her chest over his head and her hips at arms-length were distracting. She was merely doing a job she didn't enjoy, her pussy dry and nipples non-erect. He had a pathetic orgasm while only semi-hard. She argued for a bigger tip because she partially undressed and she believed he came twice. He complained he didn't get a full hour and denied multiple orgasms. He gave her the same tip as before and left. She told him not to come back. He had no intention to go back.

He made one more attempt to find excitement from a similar establishment. Listings from Rubmaps suggested a place 40 miles distant provided better experiences including full service. He was treated as a regular right away. Perhaps, the young woman was relaxed by the kindly old man. She discussed 'services' and costs up front. Both the costs and a predilection to avoid intercourse steered his decision to try sixty-nine, the transaction paid for in advance. She undressed him and playfully rubbed her cheek on his penis as she did so. She removed her dress for the table shower, revealing she wore no underwear. Her breast appeared augmented; her vulva shaved bare. The shower was lots of body contact and well washed genitals - she let him wash her, too.

Back in the private room, there was no pretense of a massage. She had him lie on his back and she climbed over him in the other direction. She had a condom in her mouth but couldn't apply it to his completely limp cock so she used her hand to awaken the sluggish little man. Meanwhile, she had dropped her sex right on his mouth. He found her clean, odorless, and her labia invitingly open.

His tongue found her slightly aroused, her taste very mild. She had an eager clit that danced to his expert methods. He said it was fun to excite her and he knew her arousal was real. She became dripping wet, her labia swelling and drooping. Her moans and gasps may have been rehearsed but they were authentic. When she had her orgasm, her body shuddered.

While he had been concentrating on her, he wasn't responding fully to her. She had managed to massage his cock to a firm enough state to apply the condom. Although she was mouthing him, he felt nothing. The latex shielded the moisture and warmth of her mouth and her lips lacked enough pressure to be felt moving on his shaft. When she had her climax, he wasn't fully hard yet. He believes she might have been upset that a customer wasn't responding; or, she was experienced enough to change tactics to something that would work.

She removed the condom and squirted a liquid on her hand as she changed position to sit on his groin. It appeared she would ride him cowgirl-style. Her hand grasped his cock and slid it up and down her butt-crack. The warming gel she applied made it feel like he was inside her. The ride was incredibly brief, mere seconds; the sensations caused him to cum immediately.

Lying naked with him, she made it clear she liked him and wanted to have full sex with him next time. He knew from her acting that it would be enjoyable at least, but lacking emotional satisfaction. In her own words, she admitted she was a working girl. The sex would be business, paid sex with a woman who fucked any man with enough cash. He knew she was an option, but never had a next time.

Sadly, he discovered things that used to excite him no longer did with any certainty. Even watching attractive ladies dancing naked on a pole or in his lap at a gentlemen's club did nothing for him. He had to admit his body was failing him. Occasional success was all he could achieve. Our discussions about his troubles and experimentation opened my mind to why he turned his thoughts to my needs.

Experimenting with sex ended for him when we agreed to reconcile. Although my husband stopped seeking sensual release as the end goal, he had discovered the pleasure of therapeutic massages. He continues to think about massages in erotic ways and seeks to combine both. He is still in search of a skilled masseuse who provides excellent therapy, tolerates no draping, and includes a happy ending. He has not found all three attributes in one therapist yet. I condoned his continued search early on and his knowledge of the therapy industry open doors for me to pleasures I might otherwise have missed.

For the past year, my husband has been receiving massages from a talented woman. She works in a parlor but also does outcalls with her portable table. She is school trained and licensed, her skills the best he has known. He found her when he needed treatment for strained hip flexors. Although he remained draped, she moved the sheet to work, exposing both legs and his butt at the same time. After the flip, she worked on the flexor muscle group first. She had him on his side and the sheet fell away from his groin. She worked very close to and even bumped his genitals. The conditions felt erotic and his penis grew but not fully. She didn't comment and covered him for the rest of the session. The total massage was thorough except one obvious place. She worked ninety minutes to finish but charged for only the hour. He tipped her fifty percent.

Her second massage started with him complaining that he was too warm. She acknowledged his heavy perspiration the previous time and pulled off the sheet. He has been undraped every time since. She massages him everywhere but refuses to touch his genitals, which have never gotten hard again. This seems odd because she talks about getting esthetician training and intends to practice on my husband. Her first five outcalls were always while I was working or visiting out of state. She knew that I existed by my things in our house, but may have believed either that I didn't know she allowed him to be undraped, or that I didn't even know she was giving him a massage in our home.

I purposely made an appointment for him and waited until he was naked on the table in our living room before I left to go shopping. With my apparent consent, will she score the trifecta and massage away all his stiffness? My husband doubts it. She may be the best therapist ever to work on him and tolerant of his nudity, but she has a professional attitude about her business that appears unbending.