I am forty-two years old. I have a degree in Computer Sciences. I work as a programmer. I have all my hair and it is still full and black, I have found one or two white hairs. I believe I am entitled. I have all my own teeth. I am in better health than when I was in my prime. I am five feet ten inches.
From the time I was about twelve years old, I got fat and wore glasses, thereby guaranteeing I would never have a girlfriend. Because of this I found approaching girls to be very traumatic, especially after the first couple of negative responses in the form of hysterical laughter.
I learned to just be myself and I was some what popular, for being the fat kid. In high school there was that one girl who was just very nice. She was the girlfriend of the star athlete, whoever it was at the time. She was a cheerleader and she was never mean to a soul in her life. She was kind and helpful. A real girl scout. She was nice to me and of course I had a huge crush on her. Her name is Erin.
Erin was perfect. In high school she had long blond hair. A nice set of jugs and long legs, that's what I remembered about her.
I never had a date, I never went out. I went off to college and got so involved in studying, I woke up one day with a belt tied around my waist. literally and I could see my shoes, hell I could see my dick and there was no stomach. I spent four years forgetting to eat, concentrating on getting a degree, my social life was nil, but I graduated and went to work. Yes sir. My life.
I set up computer systems for companies, I go in and research it, ask people questions and then suggest a setup. My company is usually hired to do the work and I am responsible for the installation and writing the code for the programs. I make excellent money and over the years have gotten bonuses that almost equaled my salary.
I sat down to entertain the troops, ask questions, get a feel for what they needed.
There was this very cute little blond, that looked awfully familiar. I kept looking at her, answering questions on the fly and then I finally asked her if she was Erin. She had a suprised look on her face and I told her who I was, she didn't belive me.
It took a lot of convincing. I think she went out to dinner with me just because she didn't believe me. She was seeing a guy at the time, but I asked her out again. She said yes.
We went to a party together and she got a little drunk, we went to her place and one thing led to another. She dropped the other guy and three months later I asked her to marry me and she never even hesitated when she said yes. Our sex life has it's ups and downs.
Which is why I am writing this. I have friends who are divorced two or more times. They complain after the excitement and heat is over they have nothing left in common with their spouse and they grow apart.
Erin and I have two children and they were both wanted. Although not as much now as then. I kid. Beth who is nine and James who is seven.
Erin and I have loved, we have fought, we have gotten drunk together, we have discussed different lifstyles, like taking on new partners, her with other men, me with other women and broke up laughing at the idea. We have gotten high together, I have gotten her in trouble with her folks and she with mine. We are best friends, we are lovers, we are soulmates. But it wasn't like that always, it came over time, we grew together, we have shared desires and hurts. We have shared pain. I cried with her when she couldn't hardly walk when she was pregnant with James. I was with her in the delivery room. I saw all the gory details and saw her at her worst. I was the one that carried her over my shoulder, with puke running down my back when she got drunk at my own brother's wedding.
I have taken verbal abuse when she was sick, I have bought her flowers, just because. I have fallen in love with my wife over and over, many times through the years and every time it is even better.
I know her breathing like I know my own. If she gets up in the middle of the night, I wake up. I have worried about her, been grief stricken over her, I have lived my life to make her happy and never regreted one minute of it.
She is a loving wife and mother. I trust her completely with all aspects of my life, my heart, my soul. I have never missed a birthday, an anniversary, a special occasion that we shared. I live for those moment when I can make her gasp or smile.
My children think I am sappy. I don't care, I know what it's like to be alone, I know what it's like to dream of love, you have a lot of time to plan.
Sometimes our life becomes dull, and rutted and one of us has to realize it to pull us out of it.
I call this episode in our life the pudding war.
I had been working on a project that had kept me busy for almost two months. Erin, now with a few extra pounds, and a few wrinkles and still so sexy it hurts to look at her, put up with it. I would come home and she would make me some dinner. I had to study graphs and work orders, make out time invoices, Erin was the one that suffered and our love life.
Erin doesn't let things out, she lets them build, until we have a huge fight, or something else breaks. The kids walk on egg shells. That was when she was younger, I have found she has found other outlets for her frustration.
I was so tired when I came home, it was almost midnight. Erin was dressed in a white gown, she looked like vision, like an angel, I knew she was enticing me. But I was so tired, just absolutely beat.
Erin makes this pudding out of chocolate pudding cool whip, it makes a smooth creamy treat. I love it, but I eat to much. After my dinner she set this huge bowl in the center of the table.
Erin bitches about messes all the time, she goes off if there is a crumb on the counter. She dished me up a bowel. She sat dipping her spoon in her own pudding. As I was about to take a spoonful of the delightful pudding, Erin cleared her throat.
"I am very upset with you Josh." she said. I saw her green eyes blazing at me. I know that look and it ain't lust boys.
"Erin..." I sighed.
"Josh, we haven't had sex in two months. Now I understand your tired, however as your wife, I expect some attention from you. Two months is far beyond the limit a patient woman will accept. Now if I don't get fucked, and I mean tonight. I am afraid I will have to take more drastic measures to ensure that you do not make this mistake again." she told me.
.... There is more of this story ...