I've known Rachel for quite some time. We met via a group of mutual friends some years ago. She and my wife hit it off pretty well and soon we were hanging out with Rachel and her husband quite a bit. They're about our age, a little younger. Rachel was a grad student. Her husband worked in IT. She's very cute, and has a quirky and bubbly personality.
In some ways, she reminded me of my ex-girlfriend, Laura. Rachel has smaller breasts, but they're perkier than Laura's. Her skin is pale, her hair a lighter brown and her eyes a wistful blue. She's not as curvy through the hips, but her legs are longer.
She's one of those people who has very little in the way of a filter on her brain. No subject is taboo. She talks openly about just about everything from her bathroom habits to how many times she's been caught masturbating by her parents, her brothers, her college roommates and a neighbor. I find it refreshing. My wife, on the other hand, isn't quite so open. She thinks Rachel is a little weird. She likes her, but sometimes the conversations make her blush.
Which, brings me to my wife. At the time, I had been married for 10 years. I loved my wife, but we had been going through a dead bedroom situation that was steadily worsening. She was always too tired or she had a migraine. Or ... or ... or ...
At the beginning of our relationship, things were much different. We couldn't keep our hands off each other. We'd have sex at least once a day, sometimes multiple times. Once, while attending a friend's wedding, we had sex in the church AND at the reception. Cars, parties, every room in our house, every room in both our parents' houses, in boats, in pools, on balconies, even an airplane. We had a LOT of sex.
But during the year when we were engaged, things slowed. At first I thought it was just the stress of planning a wedding. But it kept getting worse. Every day became once a week, then two to three times a month. Things continued to slow until finally, after we'd been married a year, we were going months without sexual contact of any kind. Finally, we were doing it just once or twice a year. It was crushing me. I was depressed, completely isolated from my partner and felt wholly unattractive.
"Oh, I'd totally fuck you ... you're hot."
She said it so casually I almost missed it. It was November. We were at Rachel's and Tim's house for a late Thanksgiving celebration with friends. Most people were a bit drunk or high. It was late in the evening and tongues were loose. Some folks were chatting and laughing in the living room of the small house. My wife was with them. I was in the kitchen with Rachel and another friend, Autumn.
We had been discussing sex after age 30 and I had made some self-deprecating joke about being unattractive and old. Rachel's comment took me completely off-guard and I had no idea how to respond. My confidence was shot. It had been a long time since anyone expressed an attraction to me that explicitly. Of course, it was also possible that she was joking. I think I blushed a bit because Rachel and Autumn both laughed.
"Well, I don't mean I'd fuck you right here on the table," she giggled. "But, in general, you're totally fuckable. Really fuckable, even."
I laughed nervously and tried to regain my composure. Rachel was wearing a sexy low-cut spaghetti strap black dress that landed just above the knee. I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra and a small tattoo peaked out from her cleavage. I wondered briefly if she was wearing panties. I tried not to look at her body. It's embarrassing to admit now, but after the lack of sex over the previous few years, even a comment like that was enough to get me a little hard. I felt like a middle-schooler again.
"Thanks," I said, maybe a little less confidently than I hoped. I shifted my footing to hide my unfortunate erection and winked, trying to save face. "Tell that to my wife!"
We laughed together and that was the end of it. At least for a few hours.
Later, a little after 2 a.m., we were finally home. My wife had stumbled to bed and fallen into a wine-induced hard slumber. I was tired and a little drunk, but also horny as hell. I figured I might as well check out some porn and rub one out before going to bed.
I was online for less than two minutes before a message from Rachel popped up in gchat.
"So, I kinda freaked you out when I said I'd fuck you, didn't I? Sometimes I say shit that I shouldn't."
I let the message hang there for a bit. I didn't know how to respond. My wife and I are pretty private. We don't reveal a lot of what goes on in our lives, especially not the stuff that might be embarrassing, such as the fact that we have sex semi-annually.
But I was also aching for someone to talk to. It would be another year before I started going to therapy. I had no outlet. I'm someone that always puts on a cheerful face, so there wasn't anyone who knew how much I hurt inside. I don't know whether it was the booze or the fact that I had been planning to jerk off, but suddenly, my need to be private didn't seem to be so important.
"Hahaha no ... it just caught me off guard," I replied. "I'm not used to people finding me attractive, let alone fuckable, even if they're joking."
"LOL. You mean anyone but your wife, right. Also, I wasn't joking."
"She used to think I was pretty hot, but that was a long time ago."
"Oh c'mon. You guys have a perfect marriage. Everyone thinks so."
Once again I thought for a moment. It felt good to admit that things weren't perfect, but how far was I willing to go?
"It's easy to seem like that in public, but things aren't always what they seem," I replied. "The truth is, we don't have sex much anymore. It's just not something that is important to her."
"Whaaaaat? Judging by the way you two are when I see you, I would have guessed you guys fucked 3-4 times a week at least!"
