Chapter One
The bathroom door slammed, rattling on its hinges, and Cissy Holden winced. Her marriage was in big trouble, and this latest attempt to spice up their sex life could only be called an unmitigated disaster. She and her husband Len had grown further and further apart, sexually and otherwise, over the past year or two, and Cissy had no idea how to fix the problem.
Len poked his head out but didn’t so much as glance in her direction. “I’m taking a shower.” No “why don’t you join me” was implied in the sentence, more like “stay the hell out”.
Cissy rolled onto her side and curled up, fighting tears. Again.
She’d suggested they try dominance and submission after reading about it in the erotic romances she loved, but Len clearly hadn’t been into the idea. Trying to make the experience as authentic as possible, Cissy had gone to the local sex shop, sweating profusely and face as red as a fire hydrant, to buy a set of fleece-lined cuffs and a blindfold. After she’d presented the items to Len earlier in the evening, he’d scoffed at the cuffs and ignored the blindfold.
Then he’d done the same thing he’d been doing for the last couple of years of their twelve-year marriage. Woman on bottom, man on top. Perfunctory foreplay. Quick penetration. She missed the days when he’d spend time kissing her, touching her and making sure she was as aroused as he was before entering her. Tonight, after ten minutes of him rutting on top of her and her not responding—what was there to respond to —he’d come and immediately climbed off her before stalking into the bathroom.
The shower turned off and she feigned sleep. It was better than having to face her husband. Did he not want her anymore? Cissy loved Len. She could hardly remember a time she hadn’t loved him. They’d met and begun dating in high school, and after she’d graduated from community college with her accounting degree, they’d married.
Len had been older than her twenty-one years and had been out on his own with a great job in quality assurance testing by the time they’d taken the plunge. She’d hardly been able to believe her luck when the football quarterback with his All-American, blond-god looks had even noticed her, and when they got married and didn’t have to scrimp and save like their friends, she felt even more blessed.
Now it was twelve years later, and although Len wasn’t in the same shape he’d been in during his younger years, he still looked damn fine, whereas Cissy had filled out some from working a full-time desk job. Her extra weight had settled on her thighs, ass and belly, as it did for so many women. She certainly wasn’t ugly, with hair that was still thick and wavy, tumbling halfway down her back the way her husband had said he liked it years ago.
Cissy frowned. Maybe it wasn’t enough anymore. Maybe Len didn’t find her desirable and only had sex with her because it was his duty as her husband, kind of like taking out the garbage or paying the cable bill. They were childless by choice, but now Cissy felt a bone-deep loneliness. Without Len to share her life with, she had nothing.
Len padded back into the room and was soon asleep, but Cissy lay awake for hours, going over and rejecting idea after idea to save her marriage, her stomach churning as her fear it was too late grew with every passing minute.
* * * * *
As they sat at the kitchen table together the next morning, Cissy trying to force down cottage cheese while she read another of her erotic romances and Len chomping on his third bowl of cereal as he did the crossword, Cissy stopped dead. Perhaps this was one of the problems. She and Len didn’t talk anymore. It wasn’t as if they hated each other. It was more…friendly at this point. When had that happened?
Setting down her spoon, she then closed her book and asked, “What’s on tap for you today?”
Without looking up, he answered, “I need to mow the lawn before it gets
The bathroom door slammed, rattling on its hinges, and Cissy Holden winced. Her marriage was in big trouble, and this latest attempt to spice up their sex life could only be called an unmitigated disaster. She and her husband Len had grown further and further apart, sexually and otherwise, over the past year or two, and Cissy had no idea how to fix the problem.
Len poked his head out but didn’t so much as glance in her direction. “I’m taking a shower.” No “why don’t you join me” was implied in the sentence, more like “stay the hell out”.
Cissy rolled onto her side and curled up, fighting tears. Again.
She’d suggested they try dominance and submission after reading about it in the erotic romances she loved, but Len clearly hadn’t been into the idea. Trying to make the experience as authentic as possible, Cissy had gone to the local sex shop, sweating profusely and face as red as a fire hydrant, to buy a set of fleece-lined cuffs and a blindfold. After she’d presented the items to Len earlier in the evening, he’d scoffed at the cuffs and ignored the blindfold.
Then he’d done the same thing he’d been doing for the last couple of years of their twelve-year marriage. Woman on bottom, man on top. Perfunctory foreplay. Quick penetration. She missed the days when he’d spend time kissing her, touching her and making sure she was as aroused as he was before entering her. Tonight, after ten minutes of him rutting on top of her and her not responding—what was there to respond to —he’d come and immediately climbed off her before stalking into the bathroom.
The shower turned off and she feigned sleep. It was better than having to face her husband. Did he not want her anymore? Cissy loved Len. She could hardly remember a time she hadn’t loved him. They’d met and begun dating in high school, and after she’d graduated from community college with her accounting degree, they’d married.
Len had been older than her twenty-one years and had been out on his own with a great job in quality assurance testing by the time they’d taken the plunge. She’d hardly been able to believe her luck when the football quarterback with his All-American, blond-god looks had even noticed her, and when they got married and didn’t have to scrimp and save like their friends, she felt even more blessed.
Now it was twelve years later, and although Len wasn’t in the same shape he’d been in during his younger years, he still looked damn fine, whereas Cissy had filled out some from working a full-time desk job. Her extra weight had settled on her thighs, ass and belly, as it did for so many women. She certainly wasn’t ugly, with hair that was still thick and wavy, tumbling halfway down her back the way her husband had said he liked it years ago.
Cissy frowned. Maybe it wasn’t enough anymore. Maybe Len didn’t find her desirable and only had sex with her because it was his duty as her husband, kind of like taking out the garbage or paying the cable bill. They were childless by choice, but now Cissy felt a bone-deep loneliness. Without Len to share her life with, she had nothing.
Len padded back into the room and was soon asleep, but Cissy lay awake for hours, going over and rejecting idea after idea to save her marriage, her stomach churning as her fear it was too late grew with every passing minute.
* * * * *
As they sat at the kitchen table together the next morning, Cissy trying to force down cottage cheese while she read another of her erotic romances and Len chomping on his third bowl of cereal as he did the crossword, Cissy stopped dead. Perhaps this was one of the problems. She and Len didn’t talk anymore. It wasn’t as if they hated each other. It was more…friendly at this point. When had that happened?
Setting down her spoon, she then closed her book and asked, “What’s on tap for you today?”
Without looking up, he answered, “I need to mow the lawn before it gets
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