I knew our sex life was in trouble. We’d go weeks, even months without having sex. And when we did, it became utilitarian. Don’t get me wrong, sex is good. Even when it’s bad. I mean, seriously, how bad can sliding your dick into a pussy be? Bad that’s another issue altogether.
I’m 45 and my wife, Carol, is 42. Not spring chickens but not bad. Certainly not dead. Our schedules were such that she’d go to bed early around 8:30. I stayed up late. She works for a small engineering company, and leaves a few hours before me. Nevertheless, I found myself jacking off frequently. I’d go on the net and look at pics or the various tube sites. The act of jacking off became more exciting to me than simply going upstairs and fucking my own wife.
I may as well tell you about her. She is a pretty brunette with brown eyes. She’s a bit plump, but I don’t mind. Her hips and ass carry some extra padding, but they carry it well. She has a bit of a belly protrusion, but the package looks good. At a B cup, her breasts aren’t large, but her nipples are very responsive. One touch and they practically tear their way through her bra.
She is very clean and has always kept her pussy shaved or waxed. She keeps a decent patch of hair above her vagina, but her lips are always buttery smooth. It’s always been that way. I can still remember getting my hands into her panties for the first time, and being turned on by how soft and smooth yet how wet and creamy she was!
I guess I’m telling you that the issue with our sex life is mine. She is sexy and very pretty. Still, for some reason, I jerk exponentially more than I seek out her charms. At least that’s how it used to be!
A few months ago, she began having to work later. Not a lot, but as she told me, her company was busy, and she had to get proposals and statements out on time. Given the shape of the economy, she was very convincing about becoming a vital, “irreplaceable” part of the team. Being busy meant job security she said.
She bought some new outfits for work. They weren’t provocative by any means, but they were different than those of the past.
Her skirts, which had always been knee length, became just a bit shorter. Not mini skirts mind you, after all she worked in a professional office. But they shortened to just below mid thigh. That’s a lot of skin for my wife to show.
She stopped wearing sweaters too. Opting instead for tighter fitting blouses. Again, not too tight, but tight enough to accentuate her figure. The change was subtle, but I noticed.
The most significant change was to sexier lingerie. Gone were the generic colored panties of the past. She was now wearing, sexy, lacy thongs and boy shorts. Her bras were cut to push up a bit and accentuate her breasts. The bras were always a matched set whatever panties she chose. She even quit wearing pantyhose and started wearing thigh high hosiery instead.
When I asked her about it all, she said that the lingerie made her feel better, and the clothes made her feel younger. I told her I liked the new look, and she was pleased.
She continued to come home late a couple nights a week. Late for her was only 9:00pm or so, but that’s much later than normal.
When she’d come home late, she would always be in a hurry to get to bed, telling me how tired she was. She’d go upstairs right away and shower, brush her teeth, change into her pajamas, come downstairs, kiss me good night, and go to bed.
This routine became the norm and I got suspicious. It was the same one or two nights a week for almost 9 months, before my suspicious thoughts got the best of me. I kept telling myself that I was just imagining the changes, but I had to know for sure. I decided to take off early myself and see what I could find.