Thanks as usual to Mikothebaby for her tireless efforts and consumate skill in editing this story. As most of you know with my terrible punctuation and addiction to commas, without her you would have a lot of trouble trying to read this.
There comes a time in every marriage when the bloom is off of the rose. Not that the love is gone or that you hate each other, but things are just not new anymore. It can be the best time in the relationship for some couples and the worst for others. This can be a make or break point for marriages because you have to seriously look at things and decide whether or not you want to continue to stay married to that person. The term, "It's cheaper to keep her," had to be coined by a guy who had reached that point.
It comes roughly about the same time when you look at the girl you fell in love with and married, only to realize that she's somehow been replaced with her mother, whom you hate. That svelte, feminine body has been upgraded and accessorized until you no longer recognize or even want it.
At the same time, personalities, both yours and hers, have evolved to the point where the thing you dreamed about when you met has come true. You are both truly totally honest with each other. First off, we need to understand that humans, though we talk about it all the time and respect it, are simply not cut out for real honesty. We simply can't handle it. When you love someone, you almost have to lie to them and do it regularly.
We lie in a thousand different ways, verbally being only one of them. But once we reach that certain age where we've become fully evolved, where we become the ultimate version of ourselves, we simply no longer give a shit.
We become so comfortable with who and what we are that we simply don't feel it's worth the effort to pretend any more. That's when the lying stops and the rubber meets the road.
So you've got a beer belly ... Let it all hang out. You're lazy ... Buy yourself a new couch. Your eyesight sucks ... Ditch the contacts and buy a bigger fucking TV. You have no need to hide any of your imperfections from the little woman anymore because you're married to her and you've been together for so long that you have to put up with each other's shit anyway.
Don't worry guys, they do it too. For women this is the time to throw away the pushup bras and stop wearing high heels. They've realized that all of sexy underwear is just plain uncomfortable and all you're going to do is take it off of them to get what you want anyway. So they buy a hundred pairs of granny panties and dare you to say a fucking word about it.
Oh Boy let the good times fucking roll...
So anyway, I'm 54. Due to some great investments early on and a downturn in the auto industry, I'm retired. Because of my brilliance as an engineer and some patents I developed for my company, they can no longer afford to pay my salary and the way my retirement package was accruing trailing zeros, it became clear to some of the bean counters that the smarter thing for the company to do would be to offer me a buy-out.
It was a win/win situation. The company gives me a one-time payment in the upper single digit millions so I no longer have to work for the rest of my fucking life. Boo ya! On the other hand they get to license my patents and they get to clear the cost of my exorbitant mid six figures salary from their books and also to hire a fresh new crop of engineers to breathe some much needed life into the company. It was a good deal for everyone concerned for the first year or so before the inevitable boredom set in on my end.
My wife loved the idea at first. We now had both the time and the money to do all of those things we never had the time or the money to do before. We started out by downsizing our home and moving into a sparking and modern brand new condo. With our only offspring out on her own, we no longer needed a large house.
That took us through the first six months. Then we started traveling the globe. That ate up another six months until we got the idea that no matter where you go, it's only another place that the people who live there are fucking tired of.
We settled into the new condo and familiarity began to breed what it usually does. I started to notice new things about my wife, Linda, that thirty years of marriage had failed to teach me. I mean I still loved her, I just didn't like her. I think it was because we were simply spending too much time together.
A day is twenty four hours long. The average person spends eight to ten of those hours at work. The average person also spends about eight of those hours asleep. You also have travel time to and from destinations. With different hobbies and activities added in it takes a big ass chunk out of your day.
I suddenly realized that except for when we were on vacations, Linda and I only spent a few hours a day together. Now all of a sudden I was trapped with her twenty four hours a day, seven days a week until one of us died. I was also suddenly faced with the fact that we had nothing in common except our daughter and that Linda was either, to quote the Temptations, a ball of confusion or an utter fucking moron.
First off, let me begin by saying that I did not marry Linda because I thought that she was brilliant. I married her because she was a willing and good fuck, hotter than hell, and had a pleasing personality. Like most engineers, I had multiple reasons for the decision as you can see. I also considered that time might take one or maybe even two of those admirable qualities away from her, but even if any one of those was left she'd still be worth spending time with.
Unh unh, I was wrong. As far as the sex goes, over time she became more willing to use it against me. You know the story. If she wanted something and I didn't, she used sex to get her way. That worked for the first few years until suddenly I developed the ability to say no to her. Then she started saying no to me until she got her way. Sometime after the first ten years, it just became easier to go without than to put up with her shit. So now it was a case where it was once in a while if we both wanted it type of thing.
As far as her being hot; I blew it there too. Linda was surprisingly beautiful when we met. She had big firm boobs, a tiny waist and a nice sized butt. There are lots of fifty year old women out there who work at it and are still incredibly hot. There are also lots of fifty year old women out there who don't work at it and are blessed with good genetics and stay very hot. Lastly, there are lots of fifty year old women out there for whom their sexual appeal has nothing to do with their looks. They have a flirtatious nature or other skills that just make you want them anyway.
Sadly, Linda fits into none of those cases. Over the years she just let herself go, so ... her body and her looks went.
When she was twenty five, my Linda's measurements were 40 26 38 and I'm very proud to say that she has the exact same measurements today. The problem isn't the numbers though it's the order. Her boobs are still pretty big but they're a very saggy 38 now. Her gut has ballooned out to a staggering 40 inches and it was like her ass just deflated down to only 26 inches.
Linda still thinks she looks the same now though and you can't tell her any different. Part of our problem was that we're just different. I am in no way perfect. I over analyze everything, I'm a slave to my schedule and I'm sure that over the years, several of my pursuits and hobbies have taken precedence over my marriage, but hey, I try and I've never cheated on her. I've always been an average looking guy, so I had to work harder. I've exercised for most of my life so now in my later years, I'm still fit and trim from daily workouts and runs.
Linda, on the other hand, got her looks through her genetics. Her body was a gift from God so she didn't ever think she had to do anything to keep it up. That was one of our problems when we traveled. I always needed to visit the gym in every hotel we stayed in because anyone will tell you it's easier to stay up than to get up. Linda always thought that I shouldn't work out at all while we were on vacation. She hated my need to run in the morning or throw a few weights around. She said it made her feel like we were on a schedule instead of truly free to just relax.
On the other hand, I hated the fact that we couldn't do anything because of Linda's inability to walk for more than a block or two over flat ground and her constant need to eat. Every new activity I posed was met with comments like, "We can't do that. It takes too much energy." Or she'd say, "We can't do that. That's for kids."
The last thing for me to discover about the love of my life was that her personality had degraded along with her body. Over the years she'd become an expert on everything and a hypocrite at the same time. On one hand she'd tell me that a woman can do anything a man can. She'd also tell me that since neither of us worked anymore, not that she ever had; we needed to split the household chores between us.
I'm not a chauvinist, I was all for it. I would get up early and do my work-out while Linda slept then I'd start tackling all of my household duties. I'd do exactly half of what was on the list and leave the rest for her. She would conveniently get out of most of her share of the chores by saying that certain things were just not for women to do.
.... There is more of this story ...