Chapter 3
“Aye man, you alright?” Jimmy, my lead mechanic, asks while patting me on the shoulder. “You seem a bit off today.”
“Just didn’t get that much sleep,” I grumble, heading to my office to take a moment for myself. “Make sure that camshaft cover gets replaced on the Honda in bay two.”
Sleeping in Jayden’s bed last night was a mistake–it wasn’t nearly as comfortable as sleeping next to my wife.
Waking up to her soft brown skin touching mine is always my favorite part of the morning and at forty-six she had aged like fine wine.
I constantly felt myself wanting her, but finding out she thought I didn’t, and assumed I had stepped out on her, hurt me.
Anger drove the decision for me to leave the bedroom, but I still couldn’t get Evie’s words out of my head.
Had I been ignoring her pleasure? Had I let grief and other areas of life take center stage before my wife?
Assessing my mortality because my oldest friend dying was a surprise to everyone.
Financial issues at the shop had me wrestling with my manhood trying to reconcile that I wasn’t the provider I thought I was.
Being a franchise owner was not at all as glamorous as I thought it would be.
I made great money but when things went bad they went really bad.
Granted, having my wife’s support made shit easier to deal with, but it was still hard.
I guess internalizing things led to our suffering sex life.
How did I miss the signs that my wife wasn’t happy with our sex life?
Before life got in the way, you could’ve never told me sex would be our problem.
Worshiping her body used to be my favorite pastime, watching her climax was the best part.
Had I been a little lax on turning on the romance lately?
Yeah. Could I do a better job at foreplay? Definitely.
Jimmy’s knock jerks me out of my thoughts, “Hey boss, we need an extra set of hands to take out the engine in bay five.”
“On my way,” I tell him, sending a text confirming plans to get drinks with Dion after I shut down the shop for the night.
Jumping into action, the boys and I disassembled the engine and worked to rebuild its replacement. After several hours I was ready to call it quits and shut down the shop an hour early, opting to take a shower here instead of going home. I couldn’t see Evie until I got my mind right.
Arriving at the pool lounge I immediately spot Dion sitting at the bar sipping on a glass of beer.
Mickey, Dion, and I had been friends since we were kids growing up in the same neighborhood and playing on the same sports teams together.
As we got older and busier with our families and life, Mickey was the glue that held the three of us together making sure we always had someone to talk to about anything.
Mickey and I had a close bond. Our relationship was something I always found hard to describe with words.
Mickey was the one person I could turn to.
No matter the situation he never judged, just listened, offering up wisdom and love.
He was the one person besides my wife I could have a certain level of vulnerability with.
Even when I confided in him about experiencing same sex attraction, he sat with me as I mulled over my thoughts out loud exploring what-ifs.
Make no mistake, my love for my wife is unmatched and I have always been attracted to women but there was a part of me that needed a moment to confess the thoughts that had plagued me.
Since Mickey passed, Dion and I tried to fill that role as best as we could for each other touching base when we could.
“Hey, man,” I greet, slapping him on the back.
“What’s up, big dawg,” Dion says, turning and dapping me up.
“Nothing man, I’m trying to get like you,” I joke.
“Man, stop playin’,” Dion laughs.
We catch up on each other’s lives asking about kids and work…
but when he asks about Evie and I, I almost don’t answer.
Dion and I were close, he was the reason I sought a grief counselor after Mickey’s death telling me how much that it helped him.
Even though I trust him and his advice has never led me astray, talking about our sex lives wasn’t something we’d ever done before, but then again we’d never had this problem before.
Taking a moment to release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, I found myself hesitating before making the decision to confide in my oldest friend.
I sigh again, and tell him what has been happening, in hopes that he could help me find a solution.
“Evie and I are in a rough patch,” the admission feels like a defeat.
“What you mean rough patch? You and Evie always been solid,” he questions, watching me with a concerned look on his face.
“Man, she told me our sex life was stale,” I summarize, not wanting to recount the actual words she’d told me.
“Stale?” he repeats, his face scrunched in confusion.
“Like too routine,” I respond with a sigh.
Dion continued to watch me, confusion etching deeper into his features as he asks, “What’s wrong with routine?”
“The fact that she doesn’t want that routine,” I tell him, hanging my head. “She let me know the sex was so bad that she hired a private investigator to follow me to see if I was cheating.”
“Shit,” he says, his eyebrows shooting up to meet his hairline.“Were you? Did you give her a reason to worry about you doing some shit like that?”
“Man, you know better than to ask that. You see, there ain’t shit in the street better than what I got at home,” I say giving myself a moment before continuing, “I don’t know what changed, but I guess life got in the way. After Mickey died and the issues at the shop, things have just changed.”
“Look man, it happens to the best of us,” he reassures, patting my shoulder. “Even me.”
“Yeah right, it happened to you,” I ask the statement coming out more harshly than I mean it to.
“It got so bad Michelle almost left me,” Dion admits, sadness entering his eyes. “It’s not something I like to think or talk about.”
He and his wife Michelle had been married just as long as Evie and I had. And the way they acted like horny teenagers not being able to keep their hands off one another always reminded me how I used to be with Evie.
“What y’all do to fix it,” I ask.
“Man…” he shuts his eyes, licking his lips, smiling at a memory. “I took her to this island where they make your wildest sexual fantasies come true. It was a wild ass time and it got us back to where we needed to be.”
“What do you mean wildest fantasies?”
“Anything you can think of they’ll set up for you, but they only take people by referral.
Anything you want or need they will provide, but you have to be honest with them.
This place ain’t just about sex. The chick that runs this place is really specific about who she allows on the island.
When you speak to her there is a certain level of vulnerability and open-mindedness the process requires.
It is worth it though, I can send the referral in for you if you’re interested,” he offers.
“I don’t know about all that,” I shake my head.
It sounded like some real freaky shit. Would Evie be open to anything like that?
I mean my wife used to be my own personal freak.
She’d pull out sex toys, set up roleplay scenarios…
and don’t even get me started on the positions she managed to contort her body into.
She literally tried anything I wanted. Evie had told me about fantasies she had in the past, but I don’t know if she would be open to trying them now.
I think taking her to a sex resort would be a step too far.
Whether it would be too far for me or her…I didn’t know yet.
“Look man, if y’all are having issues in that area, this place can help. It’s real exclusive and real private–-if you know what I mean. How about I send that referral, and you can check it out for yourself and decide then,” he suggests.
“We’ll see,” I tell him, still skeptical.
“Look man, you can’t let grief and your shattered ideas of masculinity destroy the relationship between you and your wife.
So what, your ego is hurt. She has stepped outside of herself many times sacrificing and making sure your needs were met–not saying you haven’t in the past, but why is now any different? ”
We play a couple rounds of pool before I head home for the night, thinking on the advice D gave me.
Entering the house, I try to be as quiet as possible to not wake Evie. The closer I get to our room a persistent buzzing sound meets my ears. I stop in the doorway of our room, the dark hallway providing cover.
My wife lays on our bed, her naked body on display with her legs splayed open.
Her luscious coke bottle shape is covered in rich dark brown glowing skin.
One perfectly manicured hand fondling her large breast, the other between her legs working the purple vibrator in and out of her leaking channel.
The butterfly shaped attachment flutters against her clit when the vibrator is shoved into its hilt.
The light from the tv illuminates her beautiful face, her eyes half open, lips parted, face contorted in ecstasy.
“Fuck,” she moans, “right there, baby. Right there, Sammie.”
Erotic images play across the tv screen as her body withers under her own touch.
Upon closer inspection I realize the images were us from a sex tape we recorded years ago on our anniversary.
I watch as the two entangled bodies on the screen take and receive pleasure as it was given freely.
Our bodies work together, moving perfectly in tandem, following the rhythm they created.
Loud moans, passionate kisses, unhurried touches. Lust filled gazes. Sweat soaked bodies.
When was the last time I heard her moan like that? When was the last time I made her look at me like that? Had I really been so caught up in everything else that I couldn’t remember the last time I truly pleased my wife?
The fact I couldn’t answer my own questions was shameful. The couple on screen was not the one who lived in this house at the present. How could I be that detached that I didn’t realize my Evie baby wasn’t happy with our sex life? Were there other things I was overlooking?
Dion was right. I had to step outside of myself and set aside my ego. My wife was always sacrificing her time, hobbies, anything she felt she needed to, making sure shit was straight for me and the kids. It was my turn, I had to do something about this.
Feeling the familiar tightening of my pants, my erection begs to be set free.
Standing in the dark hallway I watch my wife’s body jerk as her orgasm courses through her while she shouts my name.
My dick twitches, wetness cascading across my thigh as I watch my wife revel in pleasure of her own making.
She basks in the afterglow of her orgasm tossing the vibrator to the side, looking beautiful as always.
Her limbs relax and soon light snores release from her parted lips.
Walking into our room I snatch up the vibrator, clean it, then place it on its designated charger.
Retrieving a warm washcloth, I wipe her essence off her pussy and cover her with a blanket before retreating to the bathroom to ready myself for bed.
With my hygiene complete I slide on a pair of boxer briefs, preparing to take my place in bed next to my wife, when my phone dings alerting me that I received an email. Opening the app, I scroll to the top of my messages looking to see what was so urgent this late at night.
Dion kept his word to send that referral. Clicking on the newest message I see the words that both excite and terrify me.
“Make your fantasy your reality.”
I click the link displayed in the email, hoping I’m making the right decision.