Chapter 9: Recovering After Michael

I stayed in the chair with my pants still bunched around my ankles and my cock out, trying to get my thoughts in order while the room slowly stopped spinning. The whiskey and the leftover adrenaline were still sitting heavy in my chest. Richard sat across from me, waiting, one arm resting on the side of his chair. The music was low now. I could hear Sammie moving around in the kitchen, the sound of the fridge opening and closing.

“After Michael was born,” I started, “Sarah changed. She had a rough time when we found out she was pregnant, and then the postpartum was bad. Really bad. She had to step back from her job and lost the promotion she had been working toward, and she hated how her body looked even after she started getting back in shape. Our sex life just ... stopped. Before that, we were having sex once a week. Date nights or whatever. It was not crazy, but it was regular, and it was pretty good, at least for us. After Michael, it dropped to once a month if I was lucky. Sometimes longer. Blowjobs were even rarer than that. She has not gone down on me in over two years. And she has never once let me finish in her mouth. Not even close. I go down on her every single time we have sex until she comes. I always have. That part never changed. But she treats sucking me like it is the worst thing I could ask her to do.”

I paused and took a breath. My mouth still tasted like her. “I used to think if I just kept doing what she liked, if I made sure she always finished, eventually she would want to do more for me. That never happened. She would let me go down on her for twenty minutes and then when it was my turn she would act like the idea of putting her mouth on me was disgusting. I stopped asking after a while. What was the point?”

Richard nodded slowly. He did not look surprised. “A lot of couples go through that, especially after kids. Does not make it easier when you are the one not getting laid. You start feeling like you are begging for scraps.”

“Yeah. Exactly. I kept telling myself it would get better once the depression lifted and once she felt better about her body. She started going to the gym. She got her figure back. She looks incredible now. Better than when we were staying with you, better than she has in years. Her body is slim and tight now, the way she looked when we first got married. But the sex did not come back the way I hoped. Even when we did it, it was the same repetitive version of what we used to have. Turn the lights down, Nick. Just say in missionary, Nick. I did most of the work. I started working longer hours after the move, and that made it worse. I was gone a lot, and she was home with the kids and lonely. I knew that. I just did not know how to fix any of it without sounding like I was only complaining about not getting fucked.”