Geoff and Marie’s Good Life: Part 3

Busy Week

Can a retired couple's plan for sharing hubby work?

Based on posts by Only In My Mind, in 15 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.

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List of main characters.

Geoff: 
 retired materials scientist. Mid-sixties. 5 foot 10 inch, ex amateur
rugby player, still swims, runs and walks to keep fit. More than
adequately equipped to satisfy his wife.

Marie: 
 retired modern languages lecturer. Same age as her husband, Geoff. 5
foot 2 inch voluptuous build, with D cup tits and proportionate bum and
hips. Shoulder length brown hair, brown eyes and olive skin inherited
from her French grandmother.

Angie: 
 possibly retired mathematician (may still be involved in intelligence
gathering, she won't discuss her work). Early sixties. 5 foot 10 inch,
slender athletic build. Firm B cup tits, brown hair and famously dirty
mind.

Mike:   research biochemist. Mid-fifties. 6 foot 1 inch, also rugby player. Good looking for his age.

After
they had left I wandered into the living room and started scrolling
through the TV guide. Marie eventually joined me. I acknowledged her,
but didn't speak. I got a feeling that any comment, at all, from me
would be dissected, analyzed and found wanting.

"Say something then," she snapped.

"Okay," I replied. "Which would you rather watch, The News or House Of Games?"

"You know what I meant," she almost snarled.

"Do
you know?" I responded. "I don't think that I do. I was willing to join
a trial of a brand new drug, that I only need because you have this
insane idea that my cock is the sexual equivalent of a charitable food
bank: But do I get any thanks? Do I fuck! I just get attitude.

"I
asked Mike out for a drink to get his opinion on vitamins and
supplements to help a man in his sixties have better sex. He offered the
trial place. You and Angie were both too drunk to talk sense to on the
way home and we spent the rest of the time until you left this morning
playing sex games with your mate or asleep.

"So,
if my little Mediterranean princess isn't happy, the answer is simple.
You ring Angie and tell her this weekend was a one-off and will never
happen again. I will ring Craig and tell him I won't need his fucking
drug after all, and the girls will have to find their own source of
cock: Because you're having a tantrum.

"Now,
I'm off to the pub. At least people will talk to me in a civil tone of
voice there. Good job we made the bed in the spare room. I assume that's
where I'll be sleeping for the foreseeable future. Enjoy the rest of
your evening."

And I left.

I
spent a couple of hours at the pub, though I only had two pints. I
wasn't there to get hammered, just to calm down. The problem Marie and I
have is reflected in our fields of study. She is about language; she
can translate complex emotions by choosing the right words so that the
true meanings are transferred between folks with no common tongue. I
admire that. But sometimes she thinks that words can tell you
everything.

I
am a scientist; I don't trust just words to tell me what I need to
know; people have their own agendas: They use words to aggrandize
themselves or for mischief, profit or power. I need data; evidence.

Marie's
concerns about new drugs were valid in part, but had been blown up by
half-truths and downright lies on the internet. I had gone to a
biochemist who actually understood the science and was familiar with the
data and I asked for his advice. How did that work out for me? I was
sat on my own in the pub while my wife was at home hating me.

I
looked at my watch. Half past eight. Honestly, I couldn't face another
pint so I strolled home. I took out my key and opened the door; at least
she hadn't changed the locks. I resisted the temptation to call out,
"Hi, honey. I'm home." Probably too soon for that. I settled for, "It's
only me."

No
reply, but there was a light on in the living room so I looked in.
Marie was kneeling on the floor in the center of the room, hands in her
lap, facing the door. When I moved forwards to see what was going on,
she bent her head as if in prayer. What the fuck?

"I'm
sorry," she said quietly, straightening up. "I'm not going to ask you
to spank me the way you did Angie yesterday, that was a game. This is
too serious."

She
looked angry, but at herself. "I have spent decades of my life
campaigning for women's right to control their own bodies and
reproductive choices. But the first time I am confronted by you, a man,
making a similar choice, I abuse you. If nothing else, that was total
hypocrisy. Again, I'm so sorry.

"You
have been nothing but supportive of my wish to make my friends happy,
even though you've had your own concerns. I know the thought of having
other women in your bed must have intrigued you, but you've always been
more worried about damaging our marriage and resisted all the way.

"I
am genuinely worried that this drug may damage you somehow but, if you
give your word that you have considered the risks, I will leave the
decision with you. Can you accept my apology?"

I
held out my hand and helped her to her feet. "Thank you. That was the
most sincere apology I've ever heard. Of course, I accept. But why did
you decide to make it like that? On your knees?"

She
thought before she replied. "When we were playing submissive spanky
games with Angie, I didn't; engage with it the way she did, but I did
feel different. I had chosen to give control to you because I trust you
and I was; content.

"I
was a bitch to you this afternoon, when you didn't deserve it so I
decided to show you how much I regretted it. I decided to kneel in front
of you to show the same respect today. I trust you. I should have
trusted your decision. I needed you to see, as well as hear the words,
how sorry I am."

She
looked carefully at me. "Tomorrow morning we either do or do not make
those telephone calls. I've forfeited the right to choose," she said.
"Do you want me to call Angie?"

Honestly,
I wasn't sure. Was this just the first of many arguments that we could
avoid by just ditching the whole dumb idea? She looked stricken when I
didn't respond straight away, but she said nothing as I weighed up the
risks. I was balancing my marriage, my wife's happiness and my health
against unknown outcomes. Even Angie admitted that her super-brain
couldn't predict what would happen if we went ahead.

I
took a deep breath. "Fuck it! Let's just do it. I love you and if I get
to fuck four, five or even all six of your friends to make you happy,
I'd be insane not to. You must understand, though. If my enthusiasm for
having sex with your friends starts to make you doubt my love for you,
you have to tell me and we have to stop.

"In
return, if I think that you are becoming emotionally over-attached to
one or more of the women you are fucking. We stop. Are we agreed?"

She
stepped up and put her arms around me. "Agreed. Now, do you want to
come upstairs and let me give you a more; intimate apology? I seem to
remember that you were rejected twice this morning. That doesn't seem
fair. As you aren't going to be in the spare bed tonight after all, I
could practice those oral sex techniques that Angie showed me on you."

As
we made our way upstairs I told Marie that I needed the bathroom before
we did anything else and Marie asked if I had ever considered
'water-sports'. For a confused moment I puzzled over why we were
suddenly discussing paddle-boarding as a prelude to sex. Then I got the
reference.

"Where
the fuck did that come from?" I asked, stunned. After all, she'd never
seen anything dirtier than Game Of Thrones until last month.

"You
showed me how to access porn safely on the internet and I've found
sites that describe and show people using piss in sex games," she
replied airily. "If you have a bladder full of beer and you want to try,
then I'm willing to submit as part of my atonement."

"But do you find that arousing?" I asked.

She
was silent while she thought carefully. "I didn't at the time, but now I
wonder if I might like to try one day. Maybe not now, unless you want
to."

"No.
Not today." I said, "This gorgeous brunette with big boobs has promised
me a blow-job to remember. Let's revisit this conversation another
day."