This story has been a long time in the making. I have worked some of my own fantasies into it, along with a smattering of real life events. It contains a lot of ideas and sexual activity that are not for everyone. If cuckolding, mixed in with some humiliation, are not your thing, perhaps you might want to skip this story.
If Mrs. Robinson is one of your fantasies, read on.
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My wife Ann and I had been married for close to 25 years and were thinking about how to celebrate our Silver Anniversary, when this pandemic struck. We were not prepared for it. Nobody was prepared for the worldwide chaos bordering on panic in some cases.
We tried to act as normally as we could. Our jobs were considered non essential, so we lived on government subsidies and any handyman jobs that I could line up through family and friends. I was way too concerned about staying away from COVID to advertise my skills online, or in other advertisements. The occasional jobs helped us from dipping into our savings and retirement accounts.
Our oldest son was married and had given us a couple of grandchildren. Our youngest son was away at school, adding stress to our lives. The university had waffled back and forth between full time, online classes versus some ‘real time’ classes. I’m fairly confident that the economic impact on University cities was at least a consideration in recalling the student body. The empty nest syndrome was good in some ways, yet not so good in others. The quiet and solitude were nice, yet the quiet and solitude wasn’t good all the time.
Over the last quarter of a century, Ann and I had some very good times. We traveled as much as we could afford without blowing our budget. Sometimes, we went on romantic getaways, others we took the kids. We liked the family times, but we really liked “our private” times.
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The sex had been good, for the most part. We took each others pleasure into account and rarely left the other partner unsated. If it happened, it was me, leaving Ann hanging. When I got too excited, I could, you know, sort of shoot my load into her thigh, or the sheets. It happens. Not often, but it did. On balance, we had a really good sex life, with both of us putting a smile on our spouse’s face.
Along comes the virus from hell. It took the wind out of my sails in many ways. Financially, we were treading water. Not sinking, but not making any advances either. My handyman jobs were sporadic and not very well paying. I had a difficult time charging friends and family what a job was worth, when they were struggling as much, or more than we were. At least it kept my mind and my hands busy. Not to say, I wasn’t worried about our future. I was, both health wise and monetarily.
I tried to make time for Ann and I to keep up with our sex lives, as best as I could, but some things were working against me. Mid 40’s were in the rear view, it was now late 40’s, stress levels were up, as was my blood pressure, which meant medications. Add this all up and it was a recipe for disaster in bed for Ann and I.
While I was stressing out and letting my marital duties fall by the wayside, Ann had renewed her vigor to keep herself in shape. Not that she wasn’t already in great shape for a 45 year old grandmother, but she refused to take this lying down.
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Ann is considered petite, being just 5’2″. She carries 125 lbs., which she does very well. Her backside is just as tight and well rounded as ever, her large 38D breasts stand damn near as high as they did 20 years earlier. All in all, she is a very sexy, very attractive woman. And believe me, she never goes unnoticed anywhere she travels. There is never a shortage of admiring eyes giving her the once over. Did I mention the blonde streaks that she added to her red hair. More icing on the cake.
In hindsight, I guess that I should have paid her more attention. Then again, if I had, the events in this story would never have happened. That would be a shame.
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COVID was on everyone’s mind. We all learned about social distancing, wearing masks in public places along with line ups getting into grocery stores. Food delivery and shopping apps were sky rocketing. Our way of life was being turned upside down. As I continued to spiral downward, Ann kept up with her exercise and positive attitude. Unfortunately for her, the only thing I was good for was keeping enough cash in the checking account to pay the bills.
I could sense her frustration with me when she wanted to get ‘frisky’ and I just went to the fridge for another beer, or rolled over in bed and went to sleep. I wanted to have sex with her, but the last several attempts, were exercises in futility. If, I got hard enough to penetrate her, it didn’t last long enough to give either of us any satisfaction. No matter how sexy she dressed for bed, it wasn’t working out for us. Or, I should say it wasn’t working out for me. At one time seeing her in a sexy bra, panties, nylons and garter belt would have me chomping at the bit to fuck her, now it only served to remind me of my latest failure to be her ‘man.’
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Letting her down, was not something I wanted to do, but I just couldn’t dig myself out of the rut I had got into. When Ann suggested that I try one of those little blue ‘magic’ pills, I was encouraged. She still wanted, and needed sex in her life. I made an appointment with our family Doctor and Ann accompanied me. She was just as, if not more disappointed than I was, when the Doc said I was not a candidate for any of the ‘boner’ pills.’ There were medications I was taking that could have fatal consequences for me if I combined them with erection ‘helpers.’. Something about the erection tablets could lower my blood pressure to dangerous levels. Fuck!
We would have to carry on the best we could. The Dr. finished off the appointment by suggesting that we contact a sexual therapist, if we wanted to find alternate approaches. Ann was not too enthusiastic about going through all of this again, and I was too embarrassed to push the issue. Like many guys before me, I found it better to sweep the issue under the rug. Out of sight. Out of mind.
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Several weeks passed and I was getting busier with my handyman jobs. Not that I was making any more money, but I was doing a lot more work. It kept my mind off of the disastrous state of the world, and my failure to adequately pleasure my wife, as a husband should.