I know I'm to blame. It was my idea in the first place, after all. Now I get to lie here and listen to my wife purr, I swear she's actually purring, in contentment without me being the slightest bit involved. And it burns my britches 'cause I've no one to blame but myself.
It was a bit of laziness on my part, actually. The wife's always been one to enjoy herself in bed. A hurried job once in a while is OK, but try that too often? No siree, Bob; that dog just won't hunt. Well, you have heard, as a guy gets a bit older and middle age keeps trying to creep in under the door, those long sessions become a mite tiring. Muscles do start to cramp up after a while. I found it was becoming a bit of a challenge to keep going until she told me she'd had her fill.
So one night I just made a little suggestion that maybe she might consider a little store-bought help to help finish the job when I got tired. I mean, I've got to get up early in the morning. I'm on my feet a lot and I need my rest. It's not like I don't enjoy giving her some physical attention. I'd be a worthless husband if I thought only about my needs, but I needed to restore some balance. That's exactly what I told myself.
Well, she didn't think too much of the idea. In fact, she froze me out for a couple of days. I might be a little slow, but I ain't a moron. I kept that particular idea buried deeper than a cousin with too many lines on the family tree. A couple of months down the line, though, after a particularly lengthy session, I was tired and sleepy and out of sorts. On top of that, I could tell she was getting a little upset with the quality of my performance. When I get tired, I tend to get in a rut and keep doing the same thing over and over and over.
"That's good enough for tonight, honey," she said, but she couldn't quite cover up her disappointment. She really wanted more.
As gently as I could, I tried it again. "Sweetie pie, I can tell you're not really done yet and I'm sorry I can't give you all you want. Maybe you should think again about that idea I had before, you know ... that one. I know you're not happy about it, but it would only be for after I'm done-in. You could use it to go a little longer. It wouldn't be as good, but it would be something extra for you."
I waited for the explosion, but it never came. She said no, but it wasn't a 'hell no' like the first time, and my head was still firmly attached to my neck. Maybe she's coming around, I thought, and I can get some relief from her constant need for relief. We both rolled over to sleep afterward and, to my relief, she gave me a kiss, thanked me for my efforts and spooned up to my chest. Whew, at least I'd dodged the bullet.
Nothing more was said about it the next day or even the next week. I did my best to keep up with her demands, but I could tell she was weighing my idea. She was paying attention, I sensed, to me and whether I was tiring. She watched for when my interest flagged, or when my mind went somewhere else while I was working on her.
I don't blame her, couldn't and wouldn't. She is who she is and I love her. I chose her just like she chose me and I wouldn't have it any other way. It's just that some women don't need much to make them content and others need more, a whole lot more. It was great when we first found ourselves spending whole nights in bed together. I enjoyed the closeness and the intimacy. Hell, I still do, but honeymoons don't last forever. Daily life and demands take up time and energy. I found I couldn't give it my all, all the time.
Finally, she broached the subject herself. "Honey, I can see that I'm expecting too much from you. I'm sorry I was so upset when you brought up that idea the first time, and I'm sorry I've been so wrapped up in myself. I've been ignoring your feelings and pushing you too hard. Why don't you stop on your way home and buy me a present, and I'll try it out. Maybe this is what we need."
Well, I was happy as a pig in, well you know, but I hid it well. "If you think it's a good idea and it'll work for you, then we'll give it a try."
When I'd finished my breakfast, I grabbed my lunch pail, gave Gladys a quick kiss, and trotted out to my pickup. I was on top of the world, figuratively speaking. I sat behind the wheel on County 227, smiling to myself like nobody's business. Just one little stop on the way home and ... All of a sudden, I felt dumber than road-kill. Here I'd devised, promoted and promised, and now I realized I hadn't the first idea where to stop on the way home.
This is not exactly a metropolitan area hereabouts. It's a good hour's drive to anything that calls itself a city and half again as much to anyplace that needs a traffic report.
"Now what am I going to do?" I asked myself. "I could buy something on-line, but that would take a few days. I'd hate to disappoint Gladys tonight and I sure as shooting don't want to give her a chance to change her mind. What the heck am I going to do?"
I worried about that for most of the morning, until I finally got up the gumption and asked my buddy Mike Cooper if he had any ideas. We're not the best of friends, but we go back a long ways. And I know he keeps his mouth shut.
Well, Mike gave me a strange look, but told me, "You could try Greenbaum's out on 41. That's the sort of thing they might have." I thanked him and didn't stick around to discuss the why's and wherefore's.
I tore out of the parking lot right at 5:00 and headed out of town, south on 41, driving the five miles until I pulled into Greenbaum's gravel parking lot. Slinking into the aging building, I started walking down the first aisle, perusing all the different types of things on the shelves. I told the guy that I was just looking around and kept on going back and forth until I got to the back end of aisle four ... and there they were.
Lord Almighty, who'd of thunk there were so many different sizes and colors and materials. I didn't know where to look first. Finally, I settled on one that was medium in size and that looked durable, like it would stand up to a lot of use, some of it, shall we say, vigorous. I grabbed the one I thought the wife would like the best and took it up to the register. It cost a bit more than I thought it would, but I considered it money well spent.
All in all, it took me an extra half-hour to complete my mission, but I'd get those thirty minutes back tonight as sleep. After that it was all gravy. Heck, I was swimming in gravy. I didn't spend time, I invested it.
Strutting into the kitchen, I put my lunch pail in its usual spot and spotted my Gladys standing at the sink. She had on the cutest little sundress. I mean, she'd worn it a whole mess of times before, but it was my favorite and made her even more attractive than she normally was.
"You're home late. Did you buy me any presents?"
"Well now, maybe I did and maybe I didn't," I answered her as I gave her a nice kiss. She could see the bag in my hands, so she knew darn well that I had. She gave me a smile and a hmm, while I went to change out of my work clothes and shower. The bag went in the trash and her present went on a shelf in the headboard for later.
Dinner was delicious and Gladys was as sweet as I've ever seen her. Fooling neither us, she suggested an early bedtime where she thanked me as women have been thanking their men for ages. "Honey, I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did," I remember her saying. "Pwease, pwetty pwease, would you give me a hand? Would you scratch my little itch? You're so good at it."
Well, heck. After her masterful performance how could I say no? Truth be told, I'd never said no to her. So I moved over and got in the position I knew she loved best, and proceeded to give her what she wanted. I carried on as best and as long as I could. I was just beginning to tire out and starting to cramp, when she told me, "You're tired out, I can tell. Could I try out my little ol' present now?"