“Your turn,” I murmured, rolling her over onto her back. I traced kisses and licks over her face, ears, neck, down to her ample breasts, her dark stiff nipples. She began to groan for me. Then down, down, ever down to her downy soft cunt, her labia between her opening legs. Two lovely outer labia, two lovelier inner labia, all drenched with my eager saliva, and I licked and licked. Finally I settled on circling Lily’s lovely clitoris with my tongue, while I inserted two fingers into her vagina and began to seek out her G-spot. She began to buck up and down, rigid with passion, then furiously gripping my head between her thighs as she wailed her way through a ferocious orgasm.
The months went by. Periodic checkups by the Urologist (always nice to undress for her!), but no progress on the erectile disfunction, alas. Finally came the grim day when the doctor told me that there would very likely be no solution, no improvement. Mr. Limp Prick limped home to break the bad news to a visibly distressed Lily. But I did have a plan.
“What are we going to do?” she wailed. “I’m only 31 — I have a long life ahead of me, and you know that I have a healthy appetite for sex, for loving, and I’ve been so deprived of the feeling of your wonderful big cock probing high inside me, taking me over, filling me with your wonderful warm semen!” She collapsed in tears into my arms.
I held her close, letting her sob out her frustrations and despair while I searched for a way to divulge my plan, see the way forward. Finally I began by speaking about our experiences over the last few months.
“Here’s what I see as the situation, and three possible ways forward. Please let me say this all without interrupting me or protesting — then we can have a discussion at the end. Ok??”
“Um…ok.” She nestled into my chest, holding me close.
“I’ve been aware of your frustrations and anxiety, and I’m keenly conscious of the fact that our sexual activity is not enough to satisfy you, that you want more than being licked to your orgasms. I know that your unhappiness has been growing over the last 18 months because of several things. First, your spankings have become more and more severe! We started with five whacks with each of three of our implements — little more than love taps, really. You’ve slowly increased the severity of your strokes, and you’ve more than doubled the number — now my spankings are really harsh beatings, ten or twelve lashes times three. I haven’t minded the intense pain ‘cos I know it’s a way for you to work out your frustrations with the situation. And I feel like I deserve to suffer for you.”
I paused for a moment, she sobbed and nodded agreement, and I went on. “I’ve also sensed that you are getting less and less satisfaction out of my oral attentions to your lovely cunt. You want more, you want the whole tamale, and I can’t give it to you. Probably never again. And also, you’re growing more distant, less turned on by me, fewer cuddles, no snuggles.” Again, she held me close, sobbing, and nodded. “You used to welcome my caresses, my hands touching and exploring you. But lately you remove my hands when I touch you, you make me feel unwelcome, you move away to prevent intimacy, and that really guts me.” Again, Lily sobbed, nodded, held me close.
“And this whole situation is destroying our relationship! Time was I never heard a cross word from you, but you have become increasingly short-tempered of late. And while we used to do all kinds of fun stuff together — everything from playing Scrabble to watching corny movies on Netflix — you are now more and more distant, as if you don’t like my company or something. You just take your iPad and go away and read, or something. I miss your smiles and laughter.” Again, an embrace, accompanied by a sob and a nod.
I went on, “our problem has three solutions, one of which I reject outright because it would be unfair to you, destroy you. That would be for you to have an operation, surgically sterilize you, remove your sex glands, make you beyond sexual desire.” Lily stiffened in my arms, shook her head, but said nothing.
“Second solution would be to divorce. Set you free to find a second husband, a new life. I’m not the only fish in the sea, and I am not capable of pleasing you sexually. I would hate that, because it would deprive me of the dearest being I’ve ever known, or ever will know. But if that’s the solution, I’m willing to do it to give you the chance of happiness.” Again Lily stiffened, held me tighter, said nothing.
“Third solution would be for you to take a lover, to find your sexual satisfaction with another man or men. Wouldn’t be cheating, ‘cos I would know everything. I am willing for this if it would ensure your happiness…” I paused, then murmured “I’m finished now, darling Lily — those are the only solutions I can think of. The floor is yours.”
Lily was slow to respond, thinking things through, choosing her words carefully. “Um…only thing to start with is total rejection of solution two. Divorce is OUT. OF. THE. QUESTION!!!!” She shouted those words and threw herself at me in a huge hug. “You are my all, my everything! Life without you would be inconceivable, horrible, I’d rather be dead!” She held me, desperately, sobbing.
I responded, joking, trying to break the ice. “Never thought of double suicide…another option…”
Lily managed a weak smile, and a little punch on my shoulder. “You were always the joker, seeing the bright side of things! I love you!! But you’ve landed an awfully large load of things to think about on me, from the doctor’s prognosis (which I want to double-check) to the lifestyle changes you’ve proposed. I can’t give you an answer now — let me think about what you’ve said, do some internet research, maybe talk to some friends. Give me space to think, and when I’ve made some decisions we can continue this talk. But remember!! Above all, I love you!! NO. DIVORCE!!”
~~~~~
Days passed. Lily was, I could see, deep in thought, preoccupied during the days, not sleeping well at night. Lots and lots of time on her computer, searching for answers on the internet and also on the telephone, talking to friends. Attentive and loving with me — held me close once and said, “I love you!! We’re in this together! Please just be patient.” I gave her space to seek for her solution.
Came a Saturday when I’d prepared breakfast. Lily came into the kitchen in her dressing gown, engagingly tousled from sleep. “If you’d like, um, when we’ve finished breakfast, maybe we could continue our talk?” And she sealed that with a ferocious kiss, leaving me limp with desire. As if I wasn’t limp already…
Breakfast over, we cuddled on the couch in the TV room. Lily began. “A few days ago you asked me to listen and be silent. Now it’s my turn to speak, okay?” I nodded assent.
“First let me get the medical stuff out of the way. I checked your prognosis with several sources and the verdict is unanimous — it’s possible, but you’re unlikely ever to be cured of erectile disfunction, more’s the pity. You have a lovely cock, nearly eight inches when erect, and very thick — a collector’s item. We’ve had such fun with it, it’s given us both so much joy and happiness. And it makes me so sad that it’s gone soft, and no fault of yours. I’d give anything to have it hard again, pulsing up inside me, surging your sperm into me, giving me such wonderful orgasms.”