One of the men to stand up in our wedding was my husband's ex-roommate Mark. As the years passed we grew closer. He and his wife Sue were Godparents to our firstborn. We often visited in each other's homes throughout the years. We would adjourn to the living room and they to the den to discuss our jobs, relationships and life in general.
During one particular visit, as we were gabbing, I mentioned I had told my husband I thought sex would be better if he lost weight (he was five feet ten inches tall and about two hundred sixty pounds). Sue thought on this a bit and said she really couldn't say. She went on to explain she didn't find sex fun. She found it not only uncomfortable but painful as well. She engaged in sex because as a dutiful wife it was expected. She would lie on the bed, hands clenched firmly at her sides, as he screwed her trying to block out the pain. She didn't make a sound, except to winch occasionally. They had no children and probably never would. Now it was my turn to reflect.
That night as my husband and I lay in bed I related Mark's dilemma to him. He was sympathetic to his plight but didn't think it was his place to bring it up with Mark and I agreed. Lord knows Sue and I had never gotten along well, this would be a capper. Some weeks passed and Mark's problem weighed heavy on my mind. Sue had been his first great love and the only girl he had ever been with. He loved her dearly and she was frigid. To top it off Mark believed he was at fault for having such carnal desires.
One evening after my husband and I engaged in intercourse I brought up the weight issue again. It occurred to me that Mark's problem and mine might be mutually resolvable. If Mark (who was five feet eight inches tall and approximately one hundred and forty pounds) engaged in sex with me, I might realize weight was not such an important issue and Mark would learn he wasn't a sexual deviant. This appeared to be the perfect solution, if both my husband and he agreed to it. I presented my case to my husband and after some thought he agreed to be a participant, if Mark would. On our next visit to their place he presented my idea to Mark and they spoke, at great length, about the pros and cons of this proposed course of action. Mark after some thought agreed but Sue must never know. They began to work on a cover story to explain his need to be, a) away from home for the entire night and b) without Sue. Mark explained to Sue that he and my husband would be doing "astrological observations" the majority of the night at a tented campground in the northern tip of the state, where light pollution was greatly reduced. Being late in the fall of the year it would be a "brisk" (temperature wise) at best. Sue told him she thought it best she stay home, so he could have "a boy's night out." The stage was set, now all we had to do was wait for the weather to cooperate (a clear night). Several weeks later it did.
He called me that Saturday at work to inform me conditions were ideal for our venture. I explained to him I was working and wouldn't be home until eleven-thirty in the evening. He said he would arrive about eleven. I called my husband, at work, to let him know Mark would be there when he arrived home. Mark told me he would stop by the liquor store on the way there and pick up a bottle of Asti Spumonte (my favorite) to ease a probably uncomfortable situation. Mark arrived at eleven and had the house all to himself. He proceeded to the master bedroom where he could put his things, took a shower donned his favorite terrycloth robe before emerging from the bedroom ready for action. Mark went into the living room closed the drapes, lit the fireplace, dimmed the lights and put on some appropriate mood music. He seated himself on the coach to await my arrival.
My first thoughts as I walked in the door were; "Does he really want to do this, with me?" I assured myself he did. I went to the bedroom and changed out of my nurse's uniform and into a green negligee I had purchased for this occasion. I dabbed the perfume under my breasts and on my inner thighs. I stood before the mirror modeling my ensample and thought it might work better without the panties. As I slid them down my legs I glanced at my shaved and trimmed pubic region, which now formed the shape of a small heart. I rubbed my moist vagina and shuddered, I was ready. I put on my light blue bathrobe and walked to the living room where Mark waited. I could see Mark was visibly uncomfortable as I walked in the room. Could he think something was amiss? I untied my bathrobe allowing it to slip from my shoulders unveiling my near naked beauty to him. Mark's eyes widened as his face lit up with a smile. I walked to the couch and sat next to him. He popped the cork on the chilled Asti and filled our glasses (nearly spilling it as his eyes never left my breasts) than handed me one. I tipped my head to him and asked him if he liked the view with a broad smile.