My Wife is No Longer My Lover Ch. 05

He even talked about her having sex with one of his friends while he watched. Just as she'd never flash any of his friends any part of her naked body unless forced, she certainly wouldn't have sex with any of his friends unless forced neither. She was his wife, the mother of his children, and not some swinging whore. If only he had the forethought to strip her naked, tie her wrist and ankles to the bed, and blindfold her before admitting his friends into their bedroom, she'd have sex with them all while he watched and masturbated himself.

### Susan Jill Parker -- John wanted Kathy to flash herself at the mall ###

Putting aside sex and all things sexual between a husband and a wife, retirement was a big adjustment at first. Now that she didn't have to work, she was content curling up on the couch as if she was a human version of her cat and, instead of licking her fur, she read a book. Always thinking of the comfort of her husband first, she left the overstuffed, reclining chair for him. With him having circulation problems, and his calves at times swelling up to nearly twice their size, he sometimes needed to elevate his legs.

Still, even now, at their advanced ages, if it was up to him, he'd have sex with her more often. If it was up to him, he'd have had sex with her mother when she was still alive and with her sister, if he could too. He most definitely would have had sex with Kathy's best friend, Debbie, but with her a prostitute in high demand when she was younger, she would have charged him dearly for the sexual pleasure of her body. Yet, denying him her body for any amount of money he offered, Debbie would never have sex with the husband of her best friend during that time when they were still best friends.

If it was up to him, John would still want Kathy to blow him. If it was up to him, he'd still want to cum in her mouth, watch her swallow, and give her a cum bath. If it was up to him, he'd still want his wife to flash her underwear and naked breasts to their friends and neighbors, go to a nude beach, and to have sex with one of his friends while he watched. If it was up to him, John would have sex with his wife every day, multiple times a day. Only, done with sex and leaving him to his own devices, unless forced to have sex, Kathy would rather read.

If only he lost some weight, showered more often, controlled his farting and burping, and forced her to do all the sexual things that he wanted her to do, perhaps she'd be his sexual slave. Obviously, with him lost in his depression and with him masturbating and watching porn every day, either John had lost his mind and/or had become a pervert, perhaps even a little of both. Who knows, maybe in the way that she was always a whore and an exhibitionist, he was always a pervert and a voyeur.

On the way to the mall, he wanted her to flash truckers her naked breasts and tollbooth takers her panties. If only he'd not ask her to do those things and just forced her to do those things, she'd willingly, happily, and sexually excitedly would do them. If only he'd lift up her top and bra, she'd happily flash any trucker her tits. If only he'd pull up her skirt, she'd flash any tollbooth taker her panties.

Never following through, he never forced her to do anything. As if depressing her sexual on button, all that he needed to do was to force her. No doubt coming up with this stuff on the Internet, he wanted her to go to a shoe store to try on boots a size too small. Then, while having to part her knees and lift her leg higher to fit her foot in the boot, he wanted her to flash the shoe store salesman her panties, her pussy slit, and her camel toe.

'Oh, my God, if only he forced me to flash the shoe salesman, I wouldn't even bother wearing panties,' she thought. 'I'd never do anything as disgustingly disgraceful as that...unless I was forced,' she thought. 'With her thinking about her husband forcing her to expose herself under the threat of a beating, she'd gladly expose herself to any man. All that he needed to do for her to sexually obliged him was for him to threaten her with punishment,' she thought while wishing she had married a more aggressively domineering man.

While at the mall and flashing the bored men waiting outside of the dressing rooms for their wives or girlfriends, he talked about her trying on clothes without pulling the dressing room curtain all the way shut. More than willing to do that, if only he'd open the curtain wide while on the pretense of coming inside the dressing room to help her, she'd gladly flash any man waiting outside the dressing room curtain. With her wearing a short skirt, and on the pretense of fixing her shoe, he wanted her to bend at the waist while going up the escalator to flash her panties to the men standing behind her. She'd gladly do that too, if only he'd threaten her.

As if she was a man instead of a lady, he wanted her to sit at a table in the food court with her knees spread wide apart. While preoccupied texting on her cell phone, he wanted her to purposely walk in the men's room as if she thought she was in the lady's room. If only he knew she'd do all those things if he forced her, they'd both be happy. If only he was more aggressive, threatening, and forceful, she'd be more willing and submissive. If only he forced her to do all of those things, she'd give him as much sex as he wanted.

If only he'd grab her by her hair and force her mouth down on his stiff prick, she'd give him what he wanted, a blowjob. If only he'd put a heavy hand behind her head, she'd even allow him to cum in her mouth and she'd swallow her cum. If only he did the same thing with his friends, force her to her knees and pull her hair hard for her to open her mouth, she'd blow them all. She should have married a sexually aggressive man instead of a gentle man. She should have married a brut of a man instead of a perverted man. She more needed a domineering man than she did a perverted accountant.

Not in her lifetime. Unless he had a character change and forced her, she'd never do any of those things with him. He'd have a better chance of experiencing his sexual fantasies if he divorced her and remarried someone else. He'd have a better chance of receiving blowjobs, having his wife flash unsuspecting men, going to a nude beach, and her having sex with one of his friends while he watched, if he had lots of money. He'd have a better chance of her being his whore, if he looked and acted more like one of the characters in her romance novels. She'd give him all that he sexually wanted, if only he forced her.

Only, neither one believed in divorce and he didn't have a lot of money. He'd never change his milquetoast ways by forcing her to have sex. He didn't act like or look like any of the characters in her romance novels. Unless one of them died, 'Till death do you part,' as far as they both were concerned, marriage was forever.

### Susan Jill Parker -- Never going out, he was always home watching his big screen TV ###

Something that she always found so annoying, as if he did it purposely because he knew it annoyed her, as if he was bored, he constantly surfed television channels while she read. 'Click, click, click, clicking on one channel before clicking on another and before she even had the chance to see what was on the previous channel, his impatient, infernal clicking upset her. Between the ticking of the grandfather's clock and the clicking of his remote control, she had a hard time concentrating enough to read. The noise of him changing channels mixed with the ticking of the grandfather's clock was her version of Chinese torture.

'Click, click, click, click. Tick, tick, tick, tick. Click, tick, click, tick, click, tick, click, tick.'

In the way that her parents never watched television, if she didn't have a TV in the living room, she'd be happy. He wanted a TV in the bedroom too, but she put her foot down against that. Instead, when she went to bed, he'd stay up to watch porn on his computer. Then, when he finally came to bed sexually aroused, horny, and expecting sex, was when she went downstairs to read. If she didn't leave her bed, instead of just forcing her to submit, he'd pathetically try to cop cheap feels of her breasts, her ass, and/or her pussy.

With the television too loud and interfering with her concentrating on her reading, the best thing she did was to buy John noise cancelling, wireless headphones. A concession that John made, she agreed for him to buy that big screen TV that he always wanted and so loved to watch, especially when watching sports, if he muted the sound and wore his headphones. Now with the sound off, they both enjoyed the quiet, comfort of the living room. Moreover, the new digital remote doesn't make any clicking sounds that the analog remote did.

Even with the beautiful HD picture on the television, Kathy would much rather read a book than to watch TV. She'd rather have her own mental images inspire her imagination and meander through her mind instead of being distracted by big screen commercials and him constantly and continually changing channels. Sometimes she wished she lived in the Victorian days, the days before televisions, computers, automobiles, and the Internet. A slow and less pressured life back then, she wished she lived in the 20th century, and a time just before the woman won the right to vote.

Yet, instead of sitting in his chair watching television, as if he was a restless, caged animal, he roamed the house in the way that the dog used to roam the house when looking for trouble or when hearing noises outside. Just as that big-eared dog could hear and/or smell a mouse in the cellar from upstairs, that dog could hear a cat walking by the house in the snow. Now with John constantly and continually roaming the house, and going from one room to another as if he was locked in a mental institution, his constant meandering made her nervously uneasy.

'Pacing, pacing, and pacing, he's always pacing. Then, when the pacing stopped, she wondered why. Where is he? What is he doing? Maybe getting ready to shake the whole house masturbating, he's probably watching porn on his computer,' she thought.

With him obviously bored and not yet used to retirement, she sometimes wished he was like other husbands. She wished he had a hobby. She wished he fixed things in the workshop out in the garage or built things in the workshop down in the basement that he seldom used. Every week for a month of Sundays, as if collecting trophies, he came home with a new tool that he never used but proudly displayed on his wall of tools.

With him always home and underfoot, she wished he had someplace to go and something to do. She wished he'd join a bowling team and bowl in a bowling league. She even suggested that he play poker with the boys or go fishing. With him enjoying board games and her hating board games, he could go to the senior center to play Chess, Checkers, Scrabble, Monopoly, or Risk. Instead of going out to socialize, he never left the house. Instead of making a new friend, he remained home alone.

She even secretly wished he had a girlfriend to take the pressure off her to give him sex, especially a blowjob. She even wished he'd go to one of those massage spots downtown and pay for a massage, one with a happy ending. Something he did for years, she wished he was still active with the Boy Scouts. He used to so look forward to their hiking and weekend camping trips.

Since his childhood friend, Walter, died, obviously missing him as he would if he lost his brother, he was no longer interested in going out to do things. He and Walter used to go out for coffee, hang out at the hardware store, occasionally see a movie, go bowling, play pool, cards, Scrabble, Risk, or checkers, or walk the mall. No doubt, while out on their jaunts, they searched for up-skirt peeks of panties and down-blouse views of cleavage and bras. She wished he could make another friend, one who shared his perversions but with him always staying close to home and not reaching out, he seemed content to roam the house.

### Susan Jill Parker -- John was sad, lonely, unhappy, angry, and depressed ###

With him sad, lonely, moody, and sometimes yelling at CNN News, she knew there was something wrong but she didn't know what it was or why it was. Dissatisfied with retirement as he was with much of his life, he was angry. He was always angry. As much as he was angry and unhappy, he was sad and depressed. No doubt, with her not giving him what he wanted, a blowjob and with her unable to fulfill his sexual fantasies by flashing men her body and/or having sex with other men while he watched, he was sexually frustrated.

Not wanting to ask him, she didn't want to listen to the same old complaints about them not going anywhere and/or doing anything or them not having sex. She knew that if she questioned him that he'd bring up the hiking trip that she promised to take with him but never did. Hounding her and with her feeling guilty about not going hiking with him for thirty years, thankfully they were too tired and not well enough to hike the 2,200-mile Appalachian, mountain trail now.

Seriously considering taking that life altering trek before the birth of their third child, she even bought the hiking equipment, boots, backpack, and pole but too old now, she was totally content to sit and read. Everything was still in the closet wrapped in its original packaging. She probably should have returned it to the store but she truly thought that she'd go hiking with him some day, one day, until it was no longer a monthly topic of conversation.

Now that he was always so sad, unhappy, angry, and restless, she was worried about him. Long before they even met, she was well aware of the thoughts of suicide he has had in the past. She knew for a long time that he had been dissatisfied with his life and even wondered if he was contemplating divorce. Yet, just as there was no one else in her life, with him always home and underfoot, she knew there was no one else in his life either. Besides neither of them believed in divorce. She remembered what her priest said when they were married.

"What God has joined together, let no man put asunder."

She wasn't totally put off by divorce if divorce was the only alternative to get away from an emotionally, physically, and/or sexually abusive spouse. Yet, divorce was wrong when used for selfish purposes, such as just to have sex with another person. Divorce was wrong when used for money. Just as she couldn't imagine divorcing John, she couldn't imagine marrying someone else for the sake of having more money to buy things that she didn't want or need.

"A man may leave his father and mother, but will cleave onto his wife, and they shall be one flesh," she remembered her priest saying so long ago.

Just as she felt as one with her husband, she knew he felt as one with her. Yet, even though they may feel as one, their differences in opinions created a gap that was too far to bridge, even with religion and believing in the Almighty God. As if a monster hiding in the corner of their darkened bedroom, sex was what caused all the resentment and frustration in their marriage. He always wanted more and she always wanted less.

'Sex, sex, sex,' she thought. 'Everything is about sex. If relationships are not about money, they're about sex.'

Yet, beyond their bad sex life, his depression was sometimes chilling, especially when he'd sit there for hours staring at the wall without talking while she read. Even though his chair didn't actually rock, sometimes he'd rock his torso in his chair as if he was a patient in an insane asylum. His favorite joke to tell was when his nurse practitioner and/or doctor asked him if he was depressed.

"Am I depressed? Of course I'm depressed. I married a librarian instead of a stripper," he said and laughed as if he told that joke for the first time.

Yet, she was proud of the man that he was. He never disrespected her in the way that many of her friends' husbands disrespected their wives. Sex, sex, sex, everything was about sex with them too. Only, instead of lusting over their wives, they lusted over one another's wives, over women they'd seen in the street or at the mall, over celebrities they've seen on TV, and/or over movie stars who'd strip themselves topless and/or naked in the movies. Johnny was a much better man than that. He had more respect for her than to make ungodly comments about women's unclothed bodies, especially in her presence.

### Susan Jill Parker -- The Grim Reaper waved John over from the cemetery ###

One day, after a week of rain, cold, and dampness, the sun was shining and the birds were singing again but John wasn't there. He was gone, long gone in the night. As if he had planned his escape, he had disappeared without her even knowing. With her going to bed without him while he stayed up late to watch porn and masturbate, when he never came to bed, instead of getting up to go downstairs to read, she fell asleep.

While Kathy was ensconced in her latest novel, she never heard the front door open and close. She never saw her husband walk across the street as if he was a zombie hypnotized by death. After standing in front of the living room window each night for a week as she read and as it rained, he had forsaken his beloved big screen television to stare across the street at the cemetery.

A groundskeeper found his dead body the next day by their future burial plot. He had taken an overdose of her sleeping pills. Until death do you part, finally they were both free.

THE END

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