I stared at the little blue pill in my palm for several seconds, then I poured two more Viagras into my hand. "Fuck it, this stuff doesn't really work anyway," I thought, as I threw the handful of pills into the back of my throat and chased them with a glass of water.
I thought erection pills were supposed to give you an instant hard-on. It turns out they only enhance the blood-flow actions that are already taking place. They don't have any effect on what or who makes you excited. And yet my wife, Delphina, was expecting big things tonight, big hard things.
My wife and I live in a suburb of the Bay Area. We're DINKs (Dual Incomes No Kids) and we've been together for three years now. The last year has been difficult. Our relationship has been strained by frustration in the bedroom. She would like us to be having more sex, (more than zero), and I'm feeling like I've subverted my real sexuality my whole life.
I was in great shape and confident in myself. I had always been passionate about working out, and I had done some modeling, nude and clothed. I had a very nice body, I had been told many times, and I liked to show it off. Before becoming a firefighter I was a fitness trainer. I had several clients who liked to flirt, including straight women and gay men. I dated many women during my trainer days, but when I met Delphina I was looking for a more permanent relationship.
My wife is an extremely confident and competent executive assistant for a high end law firm and I'm a firefighter. Mine is a very male-oriented field. In my line of work weakness is not tolerated and all forms of machismo and masculinity are celebrated. Thats not to say that there are only men, or only ones who are straight, in the fire service, but they like to think that's the case.
We only have two females in my department, and no gays, that I'm aware of. It would be catastrophic to one's reputation and career to be out as a gay male in my department. There's only one guy, Joe, a friend in a different department, who I suspect is gay. He's a great guy and I really enjoy hanging out with him and attending classes and training together, but he's never shared his orientation with me in any of our conversations.
The reason I suspect he might secretly be gay is because he is single, extremely handsome, buffed, always working out, and I've never seen him date anyone. In our world of locker room towel snapping and grab ass, accusing one another of being gay or sucking cock is very common is meant in jest. A few times I've traded banter with Joe but felt like he was only kidding about kidding. "Hey, Joe, why don't you come over here and suck my cock!" I laughed.
"Hmm, you'd like that wouldn't you?" he'd quipped back, smirking. "In fact, since you're so enthralled by sucking cock, why don't you wrap your lips around my cock while I play with your ass."
"Ha ha, you always have to go too far," I fired back. "Did he actually wink at me when he said that?" I asked myself. It was in that context that gayness or sucking cock ever entered a conversation with me. Sure, like every guy, I had imagined how it would feel to be penetrated, rather than being the penetrator; how it must feel incredible to have a man so turned on by me that his rigid cock pushes past my resistant asshole, going deeper with each thrust, and ending with him coming great loads of semen to paint my sphincter walls. All guys have wondered that.
Delphina, my wife, would be considered a trophy wife, but she was way more than just her looks. The white shoe attorneys at her office had often made the mistake of assuming that because she was a knock-out she was a pushover. It was great to see them leave her office with their tails, and their cocks, tucked between their legs. Whenever we went to a group setting, people tended to put us in the she/he-is-so-lucky-to-be-fucking-him/her-category. We looked like the "perfect couple."
Delphina was exceptionally sexy by any normal standard. She was a Mediterranean mix of ancestry, with jet black hair, which cascaded down almost to her narrow waist, silky and soft, and she would flip it from one side to the other with a toss of her head. She had big round ass cheeks that bounced softly when she walked, especially in high heels and bikini bottoms, rising and falling like volleyballs gliding together. Her ass was firm and tight, a genetic byproduct of her famous Spanish bodybuilder father and Greek mother.
Her legs were long and shapely, toned and tanned to enhance every curve, with skin as smooth and tight as grape skin. She took great pains to maintain her smooth, soft skin, with a nighttime regimen of lotions and butters that could take over an hour. Her breasts were proportionally as firm, big and supple as her ass cheeks. Delphina loved to squeeze her breasts into a tiny top and let them pour over the edge of her cleavage. Hence the trouble men got into around her at the office.
Her eyes were big, brown, semi-almond shaped, the color of strong coffee. Her mouth was wide and her lips were full and formed a cute pout when she was not overtly smiling. She had gleaming white teeth and a sexy, slight overbite. She was a true pleasure to look at.
Trouble was, we hadn't had sex in months, twice in the last year maybe. But it wasn't because she didn't want to. She was constantly complaining that she needed me to fuck her. She sometimes wore sexy babydoll nighties with crotchless panties to bed. I even came into the bedroom one night to find her on the bed on all fours, head laying on the bed and her big beautiful ass up in the air facing me as I walked in.
