Our marriage was headed for the rocks. Oh, it wasn't that Dan and I had ceased to love each other, far from it. We still shared many, many things, spent lots of time together, and we still laughed a lot. It was all because of that damned operation; my sexuality carved away by the surgeon's knife. Our love life was so great before that happened. I welcomed Dan into my eager body at least three or four times a week, often more. I adored the way he made me feel, opening me up, filling me to overflowing, and deliciously driving us both to orgasm. And that was after twenty-two years together! Now I felt nothing, not from his fingers, nor from his tongue, nor from his beautiful, beautiful cock. I was an empty shell, a nonentity, a has-been.
I tried faking it, but that was no good. Dan knew me too well. We went to counseling where the therapist vainly tried to convince me that sexual pleasure is all in the head. Even if she was right, her advice was an utter waste of time! I tried arousing myself with masturbation, a previously frequent and much enjoyed pastime, but even that did not work. That I was now incomplete as a woman had killed something inside of me.
Dan started to get impatient, emptying himself into my unresponsive body as quickly has he could and then pulling out to roll over and go to sleep. I could not deny him his relief; I loved him too much. To make myself ready, my natural lubrication being no longer willing to flow, I prepared every night with K-Y and lay waiting for him in case he wanted to have me. But that was not enough for Dan. Quite understandably, he wanted me back again; the old me, the passionate love partner who lusted after him as much as he wanted me.
Dan stopped using me. He began to withdraw into himself. It was only a matter of time before he started to look elsewhere. Our marriage was headed for the rocks.
It was our custom to eat dinner quite early in the evening, usually as soon as Dan finished the afternoon chores around the farm. Our daughter, Celine, would then finish her school assignments in her room while Dan and I cleared the dishes and planned the next day's work. We didn't have TV – we were so far out in the wop-wops TV reception was pretty bad – but we always had music playing, or the radio…
Celine shot me a perplexed little frown as she walked past me on her way to bed. In answer to my unspoken question, she shot a glance back at her father and then hurried from the room. It was an unusually hot night. Dan, clad only in a pair of boxer shorts, had been sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper when our daughter came to give him his usual goodnight hug. Now he was stood beside his chair with his head hung low, and an enormous erection tenting the front of his shorts. Well, Celine, I thought ruefully, you are grown up now! Perhaps you should come and give your dad his hug before you change into a filmy nightie like the one you have on tonight?
I followed my daughter to her room. She was already in bed when I arrived, covered by just a sheet – it was too hot for anything more. For the first time in several years I sat down on the edge of her mattress and began to stroke the cascade of flame red hair that spilled out over her pillow. Kids grow up so quickly; it was hard to believe she could go to university soon if she wanted to.
"Your Dad's pretty embarrassed about what happened in there, Celine. Don't think too badly of him…"
Celine flushed and moved her legs beneath the sheet. "I'm not angry with him Mum! I'm just surprised…and a little shocked, I suppose…that he…"
"Got an erection?"
She nodded.
"Is this the first time it's happened?"
"With Dad? Yes, I think so. I've suspected sometimes when boys have kissed me at school dances and such, but this is the first time I've really felt it as…"
"Hard?"
She giggled, "Yes…!"
Oh dear, I thought. Ok, my girl, perhaps it's about time you learned more of the facts of life and living. And it's a bit of a worry that you seem so naïve, especially living on a farm where it's quite common to see animals copulating and giving birth. But I guess you don't get much chance to date boys living all the way out here. I wonder if it's because you're an only child and your Dad and I protect you too much? Certainly, if you had brothers you'd be more aware.
I took a deep breath…
Celine, you are a beautiful young woman with a figure to die for. Any red-blooded man would get excited if you snuggled up to him dressed only in a thin nightdress. Your Dad's only human, he must have been able to feel every curve…"
"So, it's my fault is it? That's not fair! Mum, he's my father! Surely he shouldn't react like that?"
"Yes, my darling, he is your father. But he is still a man…and a very virile man at that. Plus, he is, how shall I put it…lonely…?"
"Lonely? I don't understand…"
"Yes, a special kind of "lonely" that men sometimes feel…"
So I sat and stroked my daughter's silky tresses and explained at length how my total hysterectomy had taken away my sex drive and that, now that I was unable to have those kinds of feeling for him any more, her Dad and I were slowly drifting apart. When my account ended, Celine thanked me for being so open with her and then pulled me down for a long hug. I kissed her goodnight and left. Dan was sat back at the table reading when I returned to the kitchen. He was no longer hard.
"How's Celine?" he asked nervously.
"She understands…don't worry, she's not mad at you…"
"Thank God for that!"
The relief on his face was palpable. He did not come near me that night.
At goodnight time the following evening, Celine wore the selfsame nightdress she had worn before. It being another hot night, Dan too was equally as scantily clad as he had been previously. As for myself, I only had on a bikini top and a pair of cotton shorts. To me, their goodnight hug lasted many seconds longer than normal, and it seemed that Celine was the instigator! The end result was the same: a towering erection standing up from my husband's groin. Celine did not appear at all perturbed this time. In fact she sported a satisfied little smile when she gave me a hug in passing and I noticed that her nipples were stuck out like hard little bullets. A tiny pang of jealousy zipped through me – not because Celine had given her father an erection, but because she was able to experience sexual excitement, whereas I could not.
Dan followed her out of the kitchen very soon after she left, vainly trying to hide his physical state from my view behind his newspaper. "I'm off to bed too…" he muttered.
I thought I knew exactly where he was headed, and I was right. When I pushed open our en-suite door, my husband was sat on the toilet with his shorts and underpants around his ankles, furiously rubbing his stiff pole in his fist. And no doubt Celine was the central character in his imagination while he anxiously sought his release!
