A Medical Condition - Chapter Three

Monday and she called me as I was at one of the many community functions. She told me she was ready to talk. I didn’t respond other than to say I would come home right away. She has done this to me before, making promises to talk and then changing her mind but this time from the tone of her voice she sounded as if she might actually mean it.

I rushed home half expecting that I was wasting my time but, no, she was sat in the lounge waiting for me. I was still suspicious when I sat down across from her but, nothing ventured; nothing gained, I said as cheerily as I could, "The floor is yours."

She had a smile on her face as she said, "First, thanks for everything and I do mean everything."

That didn’t sound good so I responded, "Sounds like you're ready to walk out."

She laughed, "Nope, just thanking you for all you do for me."

I was still suspicious, this didn’t sound like her at all, "Sorry I misunderstood and thank you. I don't hear it too often and it's nice to hear."

She gave me a slight ‘you’re welcome nod’ but then went serious, "Before we begin I need you to promise to not throw any of this up in my face."

"I won't."

She gave me a steady look, "Not good enough; I need a promise."

This was weird but nevertheless I said with as much sincerity as I could muster, "I promise I won't throw it up in your face but that doesn't mean I won't mention it. And I want a promise from you that you won't lie, be sarcastic, snarky or nasty .... AND a promise that you won't break your promise."

That started a bit of trading when she said, "Fair enough."

"I need to hear the words, ‘I Promise’."

"Really?"

"Yes, really, I want to hear you say it."

With a sigh she said, "OK, I promise.”

I returned the nod and said, “OK, go ahead.”

“You've pushed me for years to have other men and I have always resisted. You pressed me for sex and I know our sex life has turned to crap. So there’s always been issues; let's take each one its own."

"OK."

She started, "I love sex. I always have. You know I was very promiscuous when I was younger. I never really told you any details, and I may tell you some now, but remember your promise not to throw this back at me, ...”

I nodded again.

She took my hand, “... and I realized how much I missed it, you made that happen, you pushed me and I resisted now I thank you."

I gave her hand a squeeze, "OK. That's a bit of an unexpected twist."

"I never said no to anyone ever for any type of sex. I reckon I must have had had sex with around 500 people in those years."

I interrupted, "Yes you've told me that before but this time you said people, in the past you said men."

"Yup that's right. You know I suffer from some obsessive compulsive behavior. You've seen it with many things is our life."

At least that much is true; she has always had a tendency to become obsessive about things but this was the first time I had heard her admit to it. I figured that if she was now in a ‘confessing mood’ the less I said, the more likely it was that she would reveal more. I was not to be disappointed.

"The first time I got laid was magnificent ."

"Yes, you told me that last week."

"But what I didn't tell you is that after that I couldn't get enough."

"Yup, but the number of partners you've mentioned before had kinda told me that."

She looked me in the eye, "That was sheer speculation on your part. In retrospect, accurate, but it was still speculation. Now you're hearing it from me directly and you need to know that not only was I the recipient of advances but often I would make advances myself."

This was getting interesting so I asked, "OK. But how does this affect our sex life?"

"Have patience I'm getting there. There's a thing you say that pisses me off to no end, it just plain gets my blood boiling."

"What thing, like what?"

"You know."

This was difficult, there’s been so many things that I do that have ‘pissed her off’, I needed her to be more specific, "I probably do but I need to hear it so I don't assume anything ..."

“For example, when you use the ‘slut’ word. I hate it, hate it, hate it."

Wow, was that it? I’ve used many words and said many things to her in the past. I never thought that a simple thing like that could cause such a reaction. I made to explain, “But I never say it to be mean or throw it up in your face, I say it as the model of woman I want you to be. But I never get to say it all, the moment the word exits my lips we're off to the races."

"That's right and it'll always be that way."

"But...."

She gave me a glare, "No buts. My mother used to call me that, my father used to call me that, as did my sister and my brother even while we were having sex. I hated it then and hate it now."

Whoa, this was something new, "You did say your brother, Matthew?"

"Yes Matthew, do I have another?"

I detected the snarky tone coming back; I needed to be careful, "How often?"

"Several times a week."

"For how long?"

"Years; till he went to college."

I did an immediate mental calculation, "Hell, some quick math tells me hundreds of times. What about when you went to college, you went first?"

She said, "I lived at home, he went to Buffalo, so Hundreds; yeah probably Hundreds ..."

"Did your parents know?"

"Hell no."

"What about your sister, did she know?"

She smiled, "She probably had an inkling."

I pushed my luck with the questioning, "Was he doing her as well?"

She gave me that look, "She was too young."

"You're never too young. Tell me more about you and Matt."

Uh oh, I sensed I was treading in dangerous waters, she snapped, "No. Let's get back to the conversation at hand shall we?"

"OK. But I still want to know more."

The shutters came down on that topic when she responded, "Good to want."

I tried another tack, "What about your wording 'people' as opposed to 'men'?"

She sighed, "Let's get back to the conversation at hand shall we?"

"OK, but I sure would like to know."

"Yeah, OK, I’ve got it! Like I said, I don't remember exactly what caused it but when you did something or said something that pissed me off, like when you use the slut word and it might have even been that, I wanted to teach you a lesson, to punish you so I cut back on you getting sex from me."

"Yeah I remember when you did that. But you never told me what you were doing; you just slowed our sex life to a crawl."

"Yup. That was wrong, in retrospect that was a terrible mistake not telling you what I was doing."

I was confused, "Which part was a mistake?"

"Not telling you what I was doing."

I still didn’t understand what she was sorry about, I asked, "But cutting it back was OK?"

"Kinda yes, kinda no."

That didn’t help my understanding, "I don't get it."

She had a gleam in her eye, "It's the only power I have and I felt I needed to teach you a lesson."

Ah, now I’m beginning to get it but it still didn’t make sense, "Yeah but things got worse, as when you just stopped putting out all together, at least for me."

"I cut you off totally because you just didn't get the message so I figured I'd make it worse."

"You doubled down on a failed punishment?"

"Yup that's what I did alright, at least in retrospect."

Did that make sense? I needed to know more, "Now so many years later how that work out for you?"

She looked a little sad, "It failed miserably but I was in too deep to retreat to recognise it."

I felt I needed to help her rationalise the consequences of what had resulted, "There's an expression for something similar. ‘You die with the lie’ and now we have a dead sex life."

She responded brightly, "We do!"

Hmm, that wasn’t quite what I was expecting. I needed to get the conversation back on a more positive direction, "All very interesting and informative but where is this going?"

"Have patience. This isn't easy for me."

I reverted back to letting her lead the conversation, "OK."

She continued, "It took years of therapy and hundreds of sex partners for me to get control over my sexual obsession and compulsions. I never did get over it; I just got control. The therapist identified my condition as being something called ‘indiscriminate promiscuity’ caused by an obsessive compulsive personality disorder coupled with mild ADD."

I was well aware of her ADD. It was something I had come to accept and handle over the years. I wondered if her first husband had been sensitive to it so I asked, "Did number 1 know?"

"He was one of the guys I was having sex with when I married him."

"Did you stop the others?"

"He thinks I did and that was what was important at the time."

I probed a little deeper, "Is your son his?"

"Yes, probably; maybe; I'm not sure; probably not; I really don't know but I don't care. He’s my son and I love him none the less."

I lightened up and said, "Sure hope a DNA issue never arises."

She smiled, "Me too," took a breath, "OK. Back to where we were. When I met you I had complete control."

That didn’t sound right to me, "But we had sex on the first date."

"No we didn't."

"Yes we did. You blew me in the Boston Chicken parking lot in New City."

She paused to think that over, "Oh yeah I forgot about that."

I saw that she was becoming a little confused so I sympathised, "Funny how that works, a selective memory I mean."

She recovered her poise, "I knew that if I did what you wanted me to do, to have sex with other guys, I'd be back to where I was, an uncontrolled obsessive compulsive sex addict."

I figured I’d help her along, "I'll tell you a secret. When you first told me of your promiscuous past, all the 'people' you'd been with I had an immediate orgasm filling my underwear."

She gasped, "I didn't know that."

"It was a secret. I couldn’t tell you."

"Why?"

"Which, the secret part or the orgasm part?

She licked her lips, "The orgasm part."

Confession time, "It turned me on; it turns me on you having sex with others."

She didn’t respond to that but carried on with her own explanation, "So I resisted all your efforts until ..."

"Until what?"

"... until I couldn't take your badgering me anymore. I thought I had control over it; that I'd do it once, treat you like shit, and it'd be over and you'd leave me alone about it."

"And?"

She looked at me with a wistful look, "I loved it. Having a different man in me, I couldn't get enough of him and then the others. It made me realized how much I missed it. Different men; the thrill of a new lover; what will his cock look like, feel like; how does he kiss; his scent; is he a quick shooter or a slow dribbler; is it a big sweet load or a small tart load. I had forgotten how much I missed the unknown and all the energy that it brings."

"Others? You mean the two 'encounters' you recanted?"

"Nope they never happened."

I interrupted, "But...."

She snapped, "Should I continue or do you want to argue about it?

I quietened down, "Please continue."

"We'll get there. Have patience.

“I was pissed at you and tried to keep you unsatisfied as a punishment for forcing me into my past life."

"You could have said no."

I think I detected a tear in her eye as she said, "I did for years and years, I just couldn't fight you anymore."

"OK. I guess I only gave you the option to say yes."

"Correct. Now I'm back to being the slut I used to be."

She was clearly becoming a little agitated thinking about what we had just done so I suggested, "We don't need to have him here again."

She took a deep breath, "He won't be, that was the last for him."

That was a bit definite, not quite what I wanted to hear, "Why not, you seemed to be enjoying yourself, having fun. Explain."

"When you pressured me I kept telling you I needed a connection to have sex. That wasn't entirely accurate, I don't need a connection, but more than a few times with the same person and I start getting a connection. I feel like I am starting to get a connection with him so it needs to end ... at least as a regular thing."

This was all very confusing but I tried to stay with it, "I think I understand why you've been so angry with me, given me the cold shoulder and kinda locked me out. I’m thinking you’ve got to get your pound of flesh."

She nodded, "That's true."

I reminded her, "You said others."

"Yeah, remember what I told you about my obsessive compulsive behavior. Also remember, and don’t you forget, you started us down this path."

"I remember."

"Well remember last Tuesday I told you I was going out. What did you think?"

"Uh yeah, you went to the clubhouse to play Crazy Canasta."

And this was the point where things got really weird when she gave me a wicked grin and said, "Nah, I went to The Distillery in the Old town. It's well-known as a meat market. I took a seat at the bar at the end and put my walker around the corner so it wouldn't be seen, ordered a drink and waited. Sure enough within only a few minutes I had a hit.

“We sat and talked for a few minutes and he asked what I was after. I told him cock.” She chuckled at the memory.

“He was a bit shocked I guess that I was so up-front but that didn’t stop him from making a joke and offering his; I accepted. He tried to backtrack and said it was too early but wasn’t taking no for an answer and I told him a car quickie would work. So I grabbed the walker and told the bartender I'd be back, to hold my drink.

“My ‘date’ looked at me sideways and I assured him not to worry. We went to his car around the corner on Main Street, I parked the walker outside the car and we got in. He had his cock out in seconds and I was on him just as quick. It only took a few minutes before he blew his load and I swallowed what I could. He said thanks and I exited, took the walker and headed back to the bar; sure enough the bartender had kept my seat. The place was filling up a bit but I settled onto my seat and the Bartender looked at me funny then he handed me a napkin and told me to wipe my chin. I said thanks and told him ‘I was out of practice’."

I had listened in stunned silence until I could respond with the only thought that had come to mind, "Holy shit."

She smiled and carried on, "This wasn't easy for me. It's been 30 years since I’d picked up a guy; since I went to a 'meat market' for a hook-up. That was when I was in my 30s, now I'm in my 60s, my firm ass has dropped, my firm boobs are sagging, and my zipper is now a do-lap. I'm way overweight even after losing 40 plus pounds on that damned diet. There's gray not brunette under my blonde and using the walker doesn't help my self-esteem and I’m thinking it might be a turn-off."

"So you did this to what? Boost your ego; to feel better about yourself, to feel wanted; for what?"

"None of that crap. Simply put, to get laid, to have sex."

I hesitated before I pointed out the obvious, "But I'm here!"

"Yup, you are but with you it’s the same thing over and over; Boring!"

"Wow, me, boring?"

She gave my hand another squeeze, "You can't help it, no one can; same old, same old. When you can wake up with a new cock, then it won't be boring."

That hurt and I told her, "That hurts."

"Well, I told you we would be opening Pandora's box, you’re just going to have to suck it up. I didn't say that to be mean or hurtful although I know it came out that way but I’ll say it again, the same thing over and over is boring. It doesn't make a difference who it is and I'm sure I'm boring to you as well. It can't be helped; it's just the way it is."

I let that sink in before I said, "So you got lucky, you got a couple of guys to have sex with you. Then what happened?"

"Lucky? Luck doesn’t come into it. Generally guys don't care who their dicks are in as long as it's warm and cozy, they don't care if I'm 30 or 60. So it's not luck, it’s human nature."

"Wow, how come you've never said this kinda stuff before?"

She gave me a sideways look, "I have, just not to you."

"Girl talk?" I asked.

"Yup."

"Now what; is that it?"

Clearly she had more to tell, "There's more. Once I sat back at the bar the bartender came and gave me another drink and asked if I was a pro. I told him no; just horny. A few minutes later another guy came over and said the bartender sent him.

“We chatted and he let it be known that he was looking to hook up. I let it be known that I was his girl. He paid the bar tab and we left. He gave me sideways looks at the walker and I assured him that whilst the legs might not be too good everything else worked OK.

“I followed him out to where he had parked his car and then trailed him to his apartment a few blocks away. We went to his bedroom, both stripped fast and got into the bed. He was on me in an instant. He took out a condom but I told him if he wanted, that bareback would be OK. He took me up on the bareback offer and got on top of me and slid in very nicely.

“I was wetter than I had thought. He was circumcised and about your size. We fucked for a while until he said he was ready to cum. He asked where and I told him right where he was and he filled my pussy. When done he withdrew and rolled off of me.

“We laid there for a while, and then I got up, got dressed and came home. When I got home I got into bed with you. You reached down and felt a very wet pussy and said ‘you must be really excited you're so wet’. I didn’t tell you why I was wet. Instead I lied and told you that sometimes I just got like that for no reason but, anyway, I was way too tired to do anything. I rolled over and felt the bed moving and I knew that you were jerking off. I didn’t care; I went to sleep."

I knew exactly when she was talking about, "I remember it well, it was only a few days ago but I had no idea that you went out to have sex."

She got serious again, "That great philosopher Goethe said 'be careful of what you ask for you may get it'. Well you asked for it and now you're getting it."

I thought it was Mr. McGee who said it but what do I know? Whoever it was he couldn’t know that learning that my wish was coming true was making me hard as a rock as she told me the story.

"I'm not sure this is what I was after."

She smirked, "Too late now. The rabbit's out of the hat."

I couldn’t dispute that so I bought us back to the story, "Did you orgasm with these guys?"

"The blow job, no; the fucking, yes."

I pictured the scene and nervously asked, "Did you recognize anyone there?"

"Yup."

"Did they recognize you?"

"Yup."

On my, this is getting out of hand I’m thinking, "Fuck. Have you spoken with anyone else; have you told Sharon?" I knew that they were close and shared gossip.

"Not yet."

"How much are you gonna tell her?"

"Maybe, but just enough; just like she tells me about her stuff."

I thought about her husband and wondered if he was in on it, "And Mark?"

She obviously didn’t share my concerns and said, "He’s not in my control."

Now I was nervous, "I rather you not tell Sharon."

She gave a laugh, "Oh well, we’ll have to see the way it goes."

I didn’t share her lack of concern but knew better than to press the point, "Hmm, yeah, I guess we'll see."

I thought that was the end of the conversation and her confessions but, no, there was more; much more, "Thursday was a bit of a repeat. I told you I was going over to the clubhouse but instead I went back to The Distillery to see the same bartender and take the same seat. I didn’t have to do or ask, this time he sent a guy over.

“We went out the back door to the parking lot and the minivan he was driving. He said it was his wife's and then he fucked me in the back. I had him bareback and exited it full of cum. When I got out it was to bump into some guy who had been watching through the back windows. He asked if he was gonna get any so I told him sure and we went over to his car. The car was way too small, so I gave him a hand job and then we went back to the bar.

“The bartender asked me what he gets if he keeps feeding me men. I told him whatever he wants. He nodded and, sure enough, he went to the end of the bar, spoke to a guy and sent him over to me who I then left with. We went to his mobile home at the trailer park and we fucked on the deck, me laying on his picnic table. He was uncircumcised; not my favorite but he was thick and I like that.

“When we were done we went back to the bar and I told the bartender we'll get together soon."

By now my cock was rock hard in my pants but I wanted to hear more. I asked her, "Did you give any thoughts of including me?"

"Yup. You opened Pandora's box and now it's wide open. Don't worry I told the bartender that I was married and that you might join in; he was OK with it."

All well and good her saying not to worry, I told her, "I have no idea where we're going with this. I feel as if I've lost control, as if I'm an outsider to it all. It doesn’t sound as if I'm included."

She snapped, "Of course you are, I'm telling you now that you’re included."

"It sounds as if I’m an afterthought.”

"Sorry?"

"To me it seems that's not really me as an inclusion."

She gave me that look again, "To a certain extent you are an outsider and to be real you never had control. It's my body, my pussy and I'll use as I wish, it's my decisions, not yours, and I want it used. I'm 65 now and I when I get to the final box I want someone to look at me and say how well fucked I look. I don't know where this is going either. So let's take this ride to wherever together."

I guess my shoulders drooped when I said, "We're a partnership, I need to be involved, to be included, to be part of the team, after all this is team sport."

She softened, "I love you and I don't want to leave you out but you’ve got to be prepared for a wild ride. I've have decided to do my best to get rid of my anger and get our sex life back where it belongs but, let’s face it, your ED issues will be an obstacle. If that doesn't work the options aren't real good."

I became nervous again, "I'm not into humiliation. If that's your plan we're done."

"No, it's not my plan."

"Well that's what it’s feeling like to me."

She said, "Look it's been a long time since I haven't been angry with you and now this whole thing has got me mixed up."

I responded, "This is team sport. I must be involved. You going out without telling me, without me being involved in some way, setting up dates and pickups without me being part of it is not gonna work."

"Pandora's box. You opened it."

I ignored that and said, "We need to set rules, boundary's, limits."

She looked at me suspiciously, "Like what?"

"OK, for starters, firstly I need to know beforehand, indeed, that I might even have arranged it. Secondly, that I may decide to be present and might participate. Uh, most important, I have the right to say NO .. and then there’s the kissing.”

Before I could say any more she said, "Those are pretty demanding rules from an outsider."

I snapped back, "See, there's the rub, you tell me I’m included but there you go with calling me an outsider. I need to be an insider."

She ignored my logic and asked, "And what's the deal with kissing anyway?"

"It’s too intimate."

She laughed, "You are joking, right? A strange guy has his dick in me, he cums inside of me and you think kissing is too intimate. Really?"

"Yes, really."

The sour face again, "I'm not sure I'm on board with your rules."

"There may be more, this is a start," I told her.

"Like I said, I'm not sure I'm on board with your rules."

"Then maybe we need to call it quits."

Sour face turned into quizzical face, "Quits, already, we just started."

I went for broke, "I mean us; our marriage."

She didn’t seem particularly fazed by my dramatic announcement and said dryly, "That sounds pretty drastic."

This was exhausting, I didn’t seem to be getting through to her but I continued, "Our 'new lifestyle' is pretty drastic. Anyway, you haven’t even taken into account my take on all this; you don't know if I enjoyed what you have been doing."

She went back to laughter, "Oh per..lease, yeah I do. You may not have said it but that second session told me and the fact that you are still talking after I told you about last Tuesday and Thursday speaks volumes."

I didn’t want to admit defeat, "Whatever, I need to be involved, PERIOD!"

She adopted the serious tone again, "Listen, last month our marriage was foremost. Now after you got me back into this and I am on a very high high, my new sex life is now on a par with our marriage for importance. So be careful of what you ask for."

I thought to point out the obvious, "This conversation isn't going well for either of us."

She agreed with an emphatic, "No it's not."

I felt we were getting nowhere and said so adding, "Let's sleep on it, maybe I can soften my rules and you can be more receptive."

Her response, "OK that sounds reasonable. It's getting late, I need to shower and get some sleep; we'll talk again before the weekend, I promise."

"I've heard you make promises like that before."

"You'll just have to trust me."

I should have let it go at that but I wanted to have the last word, "I'm having difficulty doing that. You just had a handful of guys deceitfully without me."

"Yes I did; you'll just have to trust me."

She left the room went in to shower and we were done talking, at least for now. I masturbated while she showered.

I'm not a happy camper, this isn't how I imagined things. I feel like I'm on a bus that I'm not driving.