Although our marital relationship had been strained for more years than I like to admit, there hadn't been any bad guy--nobody was screwing around wit... anybody else, nobody was abusing anybody, nobody was raiding the checkbook. My wife and I just discovered, one day, that our paths had diverged widely over time, and we were standing on opposite sides of a chasm that we were unable to bridge despite our best efforts. We were worn out; worn down. Though at that point it felt like we knew each. Muste at the time, so I thought a lot about my place in all this. Then, around the time Martin Luther King got shot, I got sent to Viet-Nam." "I was loading napalm canisters on these prop planes. Yeah, we used prop planes in Viet-Nam. A-47 SkyRaiders. We called them Spads after World War1 fighter planes. It turns out that jets are too fast to deliver napalm from the sky, never hit the target, and the choppers weren't really designed to bomb anything, B-52's are just too huge and distant for the. "So you want to watch me masturbate? Just for you? Do you?"Quickly, but quietly: "Yes. Oh, yes ..." Will you show me what you like to do when you are alone? Will you masturbate with me?" Yes."I had been fairly demure up to this point. My legs were together. Now, I drew my legs up, together, and then spread them, wide open.His eyes opened wide, almost as wide as my legs.His head was on a pillow, but he lifted off the bed, for a better look. My finger touched my wetness. I told him to come. It was a blindfold. "You've been bugging me to try this again."I grinned. "Damn I'm glad I married you."I leant in and pecked her on the lips. She tied the blindfold around my head and undressed me from the remainder of my clothes. I laid down in the dark and let her work some magic.First, I heard the snapping of plastic."Gloves," she explained, "Safety first!"Then the unmistakable sound of wet lube on warm hands.I was flat on my back, leant on some pillows. My legs were spread wide apart with.
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