I remember making the decision when I was returning home from work on a Friday that was Black Friday. I was alone in the car in a traffic jam, cursing the traffic jam, all the surrounding drivers, and the kind of life we were leading, society in general, and my wife and I in particular.
Seeing everyone doing the same things, buying what we were told to buy, and when we were told to buy it, living directed, routine, monotonous, and boring lives, I decided that my marriage could not go on as it was.
It had not always been this way. I remember our first years, where there was passion, variety, sex, excitement, problems, and dreams—everything but monotony and routine.
I remembered when I met my wife, Mary; it was about seventeen years ago. At the time, she was eighteen, and I was twenty-three.
We met one summer during a gathering at a nature reserve, called to prevent a company from cutting down centuries-old trees and building a hotel. We had gathered many environmental enthusiasts of all ages and backgrounds. A crowd of us were there for several days, sleeping in sacks and tents, cooking, and spending the day, all to prevent the machines from doing irreversible damage. Many groups of people had formed, each under one of the giant trees, and Mary and I were in the same group under the same tree.
As time went on, the two of us talked more and more. We discovered our common interests: the environment, reading, cinema, music…
We had a lot in common, and yet we came from very different backgrounds: she was from a family of Irish origin, raised Catholic, and of humble origins; I was from a family of Scandinavian origin, agnostic, and upper class.
In those days, we fell madly in love with each other. She was a beauty, with blonde hair, smiling eyes of a light blue, very symmetrical and pleasant facial features, a big mouth, full lips, and always smiling. She had a tempting silhouette, with wide hips, long legs, a narrow waist, very feminine and attractive shoulders and back, and breasts that drove me crazy. Many years have passed, but she is still just as beautiful and attractive. She keeps in shape doing Pilates, and her shapes have only matured from a teenage body to a woman’s body: feminine, slightly curvy, and even more attractive than before.
I, on the other hand, am of medium height and normal proportions, with brown hair and brown eyes. My name is Charles.
Eventually we were successful; the projected hotel was cancelled and the trees were saved, which all of us in attendance celebrated. I remember with the joy of the news, we all hugged and congratulated each other, but Mary and I, after hugging, as we did to everyone else, looked at each other and kissed each other on the mouth ardently. It was our first kiss.
After we moved back to the city, we started to meet and date on weekends. She had just entered university, and I had just finished my degree in economics. We tried to be together as much as possible.
On our dates, we hugged, caressed, and kissed, but we never made love. Her strictly Catholic upbringing, although she was gradually abandoning it, made her reject the idea of having sex without being married, so she was still a virgin.
I, for my part, had had some girlfriends, but few, as I was very shy, and I was no longer a virgin. I, of course, respected her decision and did not pressure her to have sex.
After a while, we decided to get married, which unleashed an uneasiness with our families that had been latent but perhaps had not been unleashed because they were waiting for us ‘to get tired of each other’.
Mary’s parents were opposed because they did not like that she was not marrying a Catholic, and they did not accept that their grandchildren could not be educated in the Catholic religion. My parents were opposed because Mary’s family was from a lower social class and she was not “adequate for me.”
After many fights, we decided to get married in spite of our families’ opposition. I found a job, and we were able to rent a tiny apartment. We went to the town hall, registered, and got married.
We were happy. That night, we made love for the first time. I remember how we arrived at our home, hurriedly took off our clothes, and lay on the bed naked. It was the first time I had seen Mary totally naked, and I found her even more beautiful. I caressed her face, her shoulders, her breasts, and her hips, while she caressed my chest and shoulders. We kissed passionately, not only on the lips but all over her body. I licked her breasts and nibbled her hard nipples, to which she responded by closing her eyes and moaning with pleasure.
When I caressed her pussy, I noticed that it was still not sufficiently lubricated, so I continued caressing her. I placed her face down and caressed her shoulders; then I moved down her back, causing her to tingle as I ran my fingers along her spine, and moved on to caress her buttocks—her beautiful, round, velvety buttocks.
I put my hand between her legs, noticing that she was already very wet, so I turned her gently, placed myself on top of her, guided my cock, and very slowly introduced it into her pussy. I felt her warm, wet, burning pussy, enveloping my member. She was very excited, and when I finished my slow penetration, she had her first orgasm. I began to slowly thrust my cock in and out, enjoying all the sensations and pleasure her body was giving me. I could feel her erect nipples rubbing against my chest and her panting, half-open mouth, with swollen, red lips, transmitting the pleasure she was feeling.
She put her arms around my neck and her legs around my hips to hold on and increase the depth of penetration. Little by little, I sped up, her vagina adapted to my cock, and after a while, I reached orgasm and began to ejaculate spurt after spurt of cum inside her. She reached her second orgasm at that moment. I remained on top of her, with my cock still inside her, and she began to move and rub her clitoris against my pubis. She gasped and moaned and continued to rub desperately until she reached her peak again, with a tremendous orgasm that left her immobile.
That night, I began to know what Mary’s sexuality was like. Generally, it took her a long time to ‘get going’ and become aroused, but once it happened, she was irrepressible, her orgasms were explosive, and she rarely had enough with just one; she would have several in a row. The image of a water reservoir came to mind, holding back the water and the floods of the river, but once the dam broke, the water started to flow, and it was unstoppable; nothing could stop it.
I think this was due to their very strict religious upbringing, which considered sex a sin and sexual relations only for the purpose of having children. That conception applied not only to sex but also to enjoyment in general. Somehow, she had been taught that it is not good to enjoy, that it is sinful, and that life is ‘a vale of tears’.
Although she gradually became agnostic like me and acquired a more ‘hedonistic’ or ‘epicurean’ view of life, enjoying the small pleasures that life gives us without regrets, internally she still had some principles ‘engraved in fire’ and found it difficult to free herself. That’s why she held back until ‘the river overflowed’, and all the accumulated tension had to be released.
We spent the days after our wedding night in bed together, getting up to eat something, getting our strength back, and enjoying each other’s company and our bodies again. We also spent them thinking about how we were going to organize our lives. We only had my salary, which was low, and we had to pay the rent, our expenses, and Mary’s university fees.
It was a very difficult time. Without the support of our families, we both had to look for odd jobs to cover all our needs. I worked mornings at my job and then tutored students. Mary got a job as a waitress and also studied hard to get excellent grades so that she could get some kind of scholarship to reduce the cost of tuition.
It was an intense time; we had bad days thinking we wouldn’t be able to pay the rent, eating only pasta and salads, hardly having time to see each other except at weekends; but in return, the sex was unforgettable; we enjoyed it immensely when we had time, for example, to walk in the park, and we made many plans for the future.
Over time, we overcame the problems. She finished her degree, I found another job, she found a job, and gradually we achieved stability and peace of mind.
By the time the traffic jam made me rethink my life, we both worked in the sales department of a publisher specializing in publishing textbooks and teaching materials for schools, colleges, and universities. Our job was to contact educational institutions, show them what was new, and try to get orders. It was an interesting job, which, although it made us travel from time to time, was not exhausting and brought us a reasonable income. We had a nice house of our own and had reconciled with our families. Everything was ‘perfect’.
But inside me, I felt that something was missing. Life was routine, scheduled, and uneventful: work during the week, going to the cinema or theater on Fridays, dinner with friends on Saturdays, and lunch with the family on Sundays. And sex, exactly the same: once a week, which, although very pleasurable, sometimes seemed to me that we did it ‘because we had to’, without passion.
When she joined the publishing house, where I was already working, we still got to do something ‘crazy’: some nights when we were alone to prepare a commercial offer, we made love on my desk or on hers. But that was years ago.
The last time we did something daring was on a Saturday a few years ago. We were making love in the afternoon; it wasn’t our routine sex; we were passionate. We had kissed and almost ripped off each other’s clothes. She was lying on the bed, and I was on my knees between her legs, my arms over her breasts, caressing and kneading them, my thumbs playing with her nipples, which were hard and erect. My mouth was on her sex, running my tongue along her labia and fiddling with her clitoris. She was almost dripping with her fluids, her pussy open and hot, waiting for my cock to enter her. With her hands, she pushed my head against her body. I thrust my tongue into her pussy and she came with a scream. She recovered and begged me, “Fuck me! Fuck me! I need to feel your cock inside me!”
And then we got a call from Mary’s mother.
Apparently her father was out for a walk with some friends, had been hit badly by a car, and was in the hospital in a very serious condition.
We hurriedly got dressed, got into Mary’s car, and headed for the hospital. As we were almost there, we got another call from Mary’s mother. It was a false alarm. One of the father’s friends had called the wrong number, thinking he was calling the injured man’s wife.
I thought she would turn around and go home, but I saw that she was driving the car to a shopping center very close to the hospital. She drove to the underground car park and parked the car in the farthest, darkest corner from the entrance doors.
She turned to me and kissed me passionately, stroking my head and neck with her right hand while she slipped her left hand down my shirt and fondled my nipples.
She moved her hand to my fly, unzipped it, pulled out my cock, which was already partially erect, lowered her head to my lap, and began sucking my cock. She licked and sucked me with relish, with eagerness, with restrained desire. When I was erect, she removed her panties, which were soaking wet, moved over to my seat, straddled me, and impaled herself on my cock in one thrust. Her pussy was hot and soaking wet. Leaning her hands on the backrest, she began to fuck herself, moving up and down on me and saying, “I couldn’t take any more; you’ve left me totally aroused. Fuck me! Fuck me!”
She opened her blouse, pulled her bra aside, and pushed my face against her breasts, which I licked with delight. In no time, I came inside her, filling her with my cum; she came too, but she kept going up and down on my cock and rubbing her clitoris against my pubis until she had two more orgasms and was satisfied. When the ‘dam broke’, it was impossible to stop the ‘overflowing water’, I thought.
When we finished, we dressed up laughing, like children after a prank, and went for a walk and a snack in the shopping center.
But that was a long time ago. While I was stuck in traffic, I thought we had to do something to recapture the passion and excitement. I would talk to Mary when I got home to see how we could improve our sexual lives, in particular, and our lives in general.
When I got home, I didn’t say anything; I preferred to talk about it calmly after dinner. We used to eat near the office or wherever we were during business visits, but we usually had dinner at home. Every day, one of us would make dinner. I prepared the dinner, taking more interest than usual, as I wanted it to be a bit special.
When we finished, we cleared the table and sat down in the living room to watch TV, as we usually did daily or when we didn’t go to the cinema. As she was about to turn on the TV, I said to her, “We need to talk.”
She looked at me in surprise and asked worriedly, “What’s wrong? In the movies, that’s usually the phrase that starts a conversation where one member of a couple breaks up with the other.”
“It’s not that, Mary, but it has some connection. I don’t like what our lives and marriage have become. It’s all routine, particularly our sex. I still love you very much, but even when we make love, which isn’t very often, we lack passion.”
“I don’t think so, Charley; we are happy.”
“Really? Are you sure?
“You’re right, Charley; I’ve had that feeling too. We’ve gotten more and more comfortable, and we do the same thing every week. But I still love you very much. It’s just that I’ve become accustomed to a rhythm and a routine.”
“We have to do something. What do you say we go to a sex shop and buy some toys, or we can read some erotic stories, or watch one of the many videos on the Internet?”
“I think it’s good to go to a sex shop and buy toys. We can buy several different ones and try them out. I like the erotic stories too. Regarding the videos, we can watch some, but you know they are more for men, who are more ‘visual’. I can get more aroused by a good story.”
“Well, right now we’re going to look for a sex shop on the Internet and choose the one with the most variety. We go there, buy some erotic toys that we like, and start using them tonight.”
“And we can keep trying them out all weekend, shall we?” added Mary with a mischievous grin.
“Yes, we’ll cancel all our appointments. This weekend, we won’t leave the bedroom like we used to. I love you, Mary.”
“Me too, Charley.”
To be continued. Chapter 2. Toys