A 'Tea Break Quickie'.
I have promised myself that I will keep this one short.
I make no apologies for the perceived slowness of the story, or its simplicity. It is about communication, or lack thereof, between a husband a wife, married for some years.
Read on.
The open fire crackled and popped. The grate clanked as the metal expanded and the heat emanated out into the living room. Other than that, the house was quiet. Craig looked up at the clock, as he grabbed another log and threw it into the glowing embers of dismembered wood. A sudden flurry of sparks, along with a healthy helping of snowy-white ash, scampered up the chimney flue.
It was 21:35, his wife was taking a shower, his 10-year-old daughter, had gone to bed at 20:30 and was no doubt, long in the arms or Morpheus. Craig sat back in his chair, sipped some more of his wine, and picked up his book. He crossed his naked legs, then wrapped his bathrobe across them, making sure that his 'dignity' was covered; before his eyes settled back upon the paragraph of text before him. The sounds of music, filtered gently through unseen speakers, creating a welcoming ambiance, that did not interfere with his enjoyment of the story.
The shower that he had taken an hour or so before his wife, had been a relatively cold one, as was his norm, and it still left his skin with a chill and with goose-bumps. But where in the past, that coldness would also have sparked a reaction of a very different kind; a reaction that he would have had great difficulty disguising beneath the meagre folds of his robe; there was now nothing.
Craig put down his book, suddenly the remembrance of his disappointment in himself came flooding back. For his virility, his maleness and his very being; in his mind anyway, were very much in question. All of which, he had lost 18 months ago, when he developed erectile dysfunction.
Since that time, he had felt unable to make love to his wife. And although she had instigated things initially; he had quickly declined them, knowing it would lead to greater disappointment. He had told her of the reason of course, but she had felt it was something they could overcome, if it was psychological, or if physiological, it could be fixed. In truth though, Craig blamed his wife. Not outright, though it had come out in some of the arguments they had had around the time. But deep down inside himself, he blamed her, and it had turned their relationship cold in the process. So it was, that gradually he and his wife desisted in all forms of intimacy. The sum total now being a peck on the cheek when he left for work.
Craig was sure that Ellie would say he had pushed her away, and in reality, he probably had. Rather than sharing the problem, and trying to work through it, Craig, being a typical man, felt that not being able to get an erection, or have an ejaculation, was like the end of the world. He thought of no-one but himself, and began to wallow in self-pity.
The whole thing had consumed him, and with each day that passed, his relationship with his wife spiralled downwards. In the warmth and solitude of the room he was now in, his mind retraced the steps, that had led, he thought, to where he was now; where they were now. It was a very typical case of jealousy on his part. In truth, and he knew that now, it was unfounded jealousy, but at the time, had been very real to him. It involved his best friend, who was an attractive bloke, even in Craig's eyes. He got on very well with Ellie and it began to get Craig down, just how well they seemed to enjoy each other's company. Craig had confronted Ellie on a number of occasions, but she had laughed it off, saying there was nothing going on, and that he was just being jealous. But Craig could not get the green-eyed monster out of his head, and worse, began to feel emasculated when they were together, and sometimes it would impact on him when they were not. On occasions, it appeared to him, that his wife certainly seemed to be more 'excited' for sex than usual, usually following a visit from his friend.
Because of his jealousy, Craig started to poke around in his wife's things. Checking her phone for messages, looking in her drawers to find out if she had hidden anything. It was on one of these forays, that he had found a large pack of condoms in his wife's bed-side drawers, hidden beneath her knickers. He could tell by the date they were a recent purchase. And besides, the condoms they used, were kept in his draws, why would she want more? He had concluded, for one purpose and one purpose only.
He had exploded, not handling the situation at all well, accusing Ellie of fucking his friend Grant and of having done so for quite some time and demanding that she deny it! Of course, Ellie was hurt and upset by his comments, and more. But she was also stubborn and refused to comment; saying, "That an admission, or a denial, was an equal end to their marriage, as it would mean that the trust element to their relationship had gone. And once gone, could never be recovered. Did he want that?" It was a clever ploy, and diffused the argument, but not the frustration. Neither had it resolved anything. And that had been the mistake that both had made.
It was a month later, when things had been a little better between them, that his wife had instigated sex. The would-be session foundered as it became apparent that Craig, or more specifically his cock, was not 'up', for the task. Over the coming months, similar attempts failed and in the end, the attempts themselves dwindled to nothing. And once again, the couple did not handle the situation particularly well, leaving the issue un-discussed or resolved.
Craig suddenly felt hurt by the memories and stopped thinking about them. He stood up from his chair and wandered into his study, heading straight to his DVD collection and riffling through a few, he came up with the one that he wanted. Returning to the living room, he put the disc in the player. Sitting back down he was about to press play, when his wife entered the room, followed by the sweet smell of her body-wash. She had not washed her hair this time, and had refreshed her make-up, which looked immaculate. Ellie was a striking woman. Her lustrous black, loosely curled hair fell to her back, her breasts were of the perfect size, not too large, but of exquisite shape, and the nipples upon them, when erect, were a positive delight. She had long toned legs, that rose to a gorgeous, womanly bum, further accentuated by her narrow waist.
Craig had always admired her, despite their years of marriage, and did now, Ellie had done nothing but improve with time, and was now a supremely elegant, poised individual, that would attract the gaze of many a man, when she entered a room.
"You got dressed again?"
"I just put my dress back on as I was a little chilly."
Craig knew that to be a lie, the house was pleasantly warm. She just didn't want any accidental exposures of flesh to occur. And on any other night, Craig would have agreed, but for some reason, this night he resented it. It was as if they were colleagues, or friends, rather than husband and wife, and lovers before that. Even their daughter had come to notice that the two of them were not firing on all cylinders. Were frigid about one another and that was unforgivable.
Ellie knelt down on the floor, before the fire, the skirt of her dress, splayed out about her legs, completely covering them. The sleeves terminated about her elbows, and left Craig no more than between 5 and 10% of visible flesh. She looked down at the puzzle she had been doing and slotted some pieces into place. The golden hue of the fire, danced playfully upon her fantastic form, like so many hands, from a dozen fire sprites. Making Craig wish that he were one of them. But as so much time had passed since he was last intimate with his wife, he did not know how best to approach her. The last 18 months of their marriage, he felt, had just been a sham. It was beyond time where they should do something about it. They must either make a go of it, for their daughter's sake, and their own, or they should give it up. But for once, Craig had some fire in his belly, and that fire, was to make a stand, and to get things back as they should be, as he wanted them to be.
"Would you like some wine?"
"You know, I think I would. Thank you."
Craig stood and went into the kitchen. He poured Ellie a glass of white wine, that had been chilled nicely. And stood thinking what he should do. After a while, a plan coalesced in his head, and he crept up stairs to their bedroom. In her bedside draw, he found what he wanted, but was also confounded by it. As he walked to his drawers, he pulled out his packet of Viagra and popped one in his mouth. He hated the things, as he always got a screaming headache. And the rumours of being able to maintain an erection after ejaculation with these things was absolute rubbish. For Craig, they barely gave him a satisfactory erection, let alone multiple orgasms. But he swallowed the blue pill anyway, and turned back to the vibrator that he had found on top of the knickers in his wife's draw. It was still warm, and it was still wet. Though the wetness was of an oily, greasy consistency. He had found the condoms on top of her knickers too, and immediately put two and two together.
Looking about he saw a scrunched-up tissue in the waste-bin beside her dressing table, and unfolding it, found the condom. It was slick with his wife's juices, and the smell of her was a delightful reminder. She had played with herself, whilst having a shower. That was the only conclusion. But for him the revelation was not so much about her masturbating, he would have been naïve in thinking she wasn't, after all, he was not helping her in that area one single bit. No, the revelation, was that she used the condom to aid in the lubrication, and therefore penetration of herself. She had not wanted to admit to Craig, that she masturbated, and that was why she had the condoms? He sat upon the bed, thinking about all those wasted months, just because of bloody stupid pride and lack of frankness and honesty; why she felt she couldn't tell him he didn't know? There was nothing to be ashamed of? A few tears ran down his face and he suddenly felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.
