My wife, Shannon, and I had been married a dozen years when our relationship hit a crossroads. We were both working full time, commuted an hour each way, and had two kids, ages seven and eight. Our plate was full of the kids' extracurricular activities, our extended families, and friends. We were always busy, and each evening exhausted. The result was no time for us as a couple, just the two of us. And this meant there was no romance, and very little sex.
It was March 2000, and this had been going on for several years before I finally told her we needed to talk. Shannon agreed that we needed to focus on our relationship and make the time for ourselves. Less group outings with our friends or family and have date nights like we used to have before kids. She also agreed that this would help us in the bedroom.
Six months after having our every other week “date night” we were still only having sex on those days, usually before our date. We’d drop the kids off at one of our parents to spend the night, run home, have sex (always a quickie), and then get ready to go out to dinner and a movie. On several occasions, I tried to initiate Round Two when we returned home, but Shannon would always say she was too tired.
I was starting to think she had lost interest in sex, or worse, was no longer in love with me. As I thought back, “When was the last time she made the first move?” I could not recall a recent occasion. The last time I remember was after my uncle’s funeral, over three years ago.
On our next date night I asked, “Are you still in love with me?”
I saw a look of concern on her face. “Of course, I still love you, Mark,” she said. “What’s going on? Why do you ask?”
I explained that I did not feel appreciated or loved. I told her that I could not recall the last time she told me she loved me without me telling her I loved her first. I also brought up the lack of sex, and how she never initiates it anymore.
“I need more from you. Specifically romance, intimacy, and sex,” I said. “We always have a quickie. We used to be in bed for sixty or ninety minutes. What happened to foreplay? We don’t kiss, have little oral sex, and we do it in the same two positions every time. We used to have fun in bed.”
Her face changed. I could see the rage building. She put down her knife and fork, took a large drink of water, then a sip of wine. She looked around the restaurant.
“I’m exhausted all the time. Twenty-four-seven, 365 days a year,” she whispered. “I don’t have any more to give.”
“Don’t or won’t?” I asked. “Are you in love with me?”
Flustered, Shannon replied, “Yes, I’m in love with you. You’re a great provider. You’re a great dad. And everyone knows you do far more around the house than any of my friends' husbands.” She paused a couple of seconds, “But it is hard to feel sexy and initiate sex when I’m tired. And I don’t feel sexy in this body.”
She hit on a couple of key points. One, she doesn’t feel sexy in her body. Shannon had two kids in thirteen months. After our second child was born, she said she was fifty pounds heavier than when she first got pregnant two years prior. That was seven years ago.
The other was how much I do around the house. I get home an hour before Shannon does after work, partly because she picks the kids up at her parent’s house, so I cook dinner every night. Therefore, I do all the grocery shopping. I also do my own laundry, and, of course, I cut the lawn weekly and take care of the trees, shrubs, etc. when needed. Most guys only do the lawn stuff.
“But you didn’t say I was a great husband,” I said, looking deep into her eyes. “That’s what I’m talking about. You never tell me.”
“Yes, you’re a great husband,” she said in a louder, tense voice.
“Shannon, you need to communicate, appreciate, and validate. Tell me thanks for cooking dinner. Tell me the lawn looks good. Tell me thanks for going to Safeway and Target. Give me a simple kiss and tell me you love me. Hell, slap my ass and tell me I look hot as I wash the dishes.”
We talked about many things during the next half hour. She said she would make it a priority to improve her communication. She said she wanted to start working out and to lose weight. I told her I’d cook healthier, and we should limit our alcohol. We both had two or three drinks a night, wine for her and beer for me. We made a pact to join a join and start working out.
**
Over the past year, Shannon had made many changes in her life. She limited booze to just the weekends, worked out five days a week, ate healthier, and she lost those fifty pounds, getting back to her pre-baby weight. I had lost a total of twenty pounds, while adding ten pounds of muscle. We slept better, were no longer tired, and had plenty of energy for our busy family life.
We took steps in the bedroom too. We were having sex at least once a week, got back to having some foreplay, and were using more positions. Our bedroom time was becoming fun again.
With our thirteenth wedding anniversary coming up in mid-May, we took some vacation days from work and booked a four-day trip to Cabo San Lucas. Shannon pushed me to hit the tanning booth with her while at the gym, so we’d have a good base tan when we arrived in Cabo. On our first trip to Cabo several years prior, we both were sunburned after two days in the harsh sun.
**
I upgraded our room from the standard room included in the trip I booked via Costco. I reserved an Ocean View Suite, and I noted in the reservation that we’d stayed there twice before, we were celebrating our wedding anniversary, and that we would like a room on one of the top two floors, if possible.
Our Thursday morning flight arrived at the Cabo airport at 10:00 am. By the time we went through customs and took the shuttle bus, it was 11:00 am when we checked in to the beachside all-inclusive resort at Cabo del Sol.
The woman at the front desk was typing away, searching for our reservation. “Mister Thomas, Misses Thomas, we welcome you back to the Melia. I see you’re returning guests and celebrating your wedding anniversary. Our manager has upgraded your room to an Ocean Front Deluxe Suite. You’ll be in Building A, room sixteen. That is on the first floor and with easy beach access.”
Shannon and I looked at each other and could not believe our good luck. We entered our room to find the Deluxe room also included a dining area with a table for six, plus two club chairs with the usual sofa and HDTV in the living area. The large bathroom had a large tub, a walk-in shower, and double sinks.
We unpacked, changed into our swimsuits, and made our way to the poolside cantina for lunch. We spent the afternoon lounging at the pool, swimming up to the bar for drinks, and chatting with other guests.
About 4:00 pm Shannon said she was going to the room. “Why don’t you stay here a while longer? Come back to the room at 5:00 pm sharp,” she said with a wink.
Right at 5:00 pm I put my room keycard into the lock, and I opened the door. As soon as I took a step in, I heard Shannon’s voice. She told me to stop and take a quick shower, and then come into the main room.
I washed and rinsed very quickly, dried off, and asked if I could enter the main section of the suite. She said yes. I slowly walked on the cold tile floor. As I rounded the corner, I saw my wife standing on the far side of the bed, her one leg in front of the other, her hips tilted, and one hand on a hip.
“Wow!” I exclaimed. “You look so sexy! That’s new.”
Shannon smiled, “Yes, I bought a few things for this trip.”
Since losing fifty pounds, not only did my wife look great, but she had a new sense of confidence. She looked better, she felt better, and she felt sexier. This was the woman I fell in love with while in college. Shannon was going to the salon regularly for her mani-pedi and began waxing her kitty. The young girls at the salon gave her a makeover with a new haircut and style, shaped her brows, and did a little bit of lip filler. She had been dressing a bit sexier with her new wardrobe too.
Shannon was now thirty-eight-years-old and looked like a typical “SUV Driving-Starbucks Drinking-Soccer Mom-MILF.” She was five-eight tall, size six, 36D breasts, dark brown eyes, and with dark brown thick curled hair that rolled down past her shoulders several inches.
My new, sexier wife was wearing a stunning black and leopard print bustier, leopard print G-string, thigh-high black fishnet stockings, and three-inch black stilettos. Her hair had more curls than usual and looked amazing. She had put on dark sultry eye makeup and finished her sexy look with a ruby red lipstick.
“I love this outfit. Leopard print, huh? Sooooo fucking sexy,” I emphasized.
I walked toward Shannon; my thick six-inch cock was now semi-erect and bouncing with each step. Before I could hug her, she grabbed my manhood, squeezed, and started stroking me slowly.
Our lips met and my arms went around her torso and landed on her bare butt. I pressed my tongue into her mouth and searched for hers. Shannon now had her second hand caressing my balls, causing me to moan in her mouth as we kissed. I caressed her ass and playfully pulled on her G-string in her ass crack.
The warm Mexico sun filled the room with light through the sheer drapes, barely obscuring us from other guests walking on the esplanade a short thirty feet from our patio door. As we stopped kissing, Shannon told me to get on the bed.
She went to the dresser and turned on a playlist that we’ve had for years, our “sex mixtape.” Soft rock songs from the 70s and 80s mainly.
As she turned around, she looked at me with a gleam in her eye, and said, “We’re going to make love, not fuck. I want to go slow. I want it to be sensual and erotic. I want intimacy.”
She knew she was speaking my language. That’s what had been missing in our marriage and sex life before “our talk,” as we called that night over a year ago.
“Oh Shannon, I’m so proud of you. You focused on yourself and did the work, both in the gym, and by eating better,” I told her. “You’re a different woman.”
“Damn straight I’m a different woman,” she said. “Now shut up and make love to me,” she giggled as she sat on the bed.
We started kissing, and somehow, she ended up on top of me in cowgirl. As we continued, I found myself grinding my stiff woody into her pelvic area. Shannon sat up as she straddled me and started taking off her bustier. Soon her tits were pressed against my chest as we kissed more and more. Now she started grinding on me, rocking back and forth.
I whispered into her ear, “How ‘bout a nice slow sensual blowjob?”
With a devilish grin she replied, “That was my plan.”
We repositioned ourselves on the bed and I had a couple of pillows behind my back and head as I leaned against the headboard. This would give me a great view of Shannon and her oral skills. She moved between my legs.
Her fingers started lightly tracing up my inner thighs, teasing my cock by getting close, but never touching it. Next were light kisses all around my pubic area. She then licked my inner thighs. Soon she was teasing my head with her tongue.
Shannon licked the head several times and then went up and down the shaft. She finally wrapped her right hand around my tool and lightly stroked me as she licked my balls. When she put my balls in her mouth, I moaned.
“Oh baby, that feels so good,” I sighed.
She alternated between licking and sucking on my head, shaft, and balls, and I was watching every second. I was so turned on, resulting in an extra-large erection that felt like a steel post.
“Do you want to cum in my mouth?” she asked in a sexy tone.
“Not now. I want to be extra hard for you when we fuck,” I replied. Shannon smiled.
She then took half of my cock into her mouth and slowly started bobbing up and down. She got faster about every five bobs. Her hand was stretching my ball sack, and then tickling the boys, causing me to giggle.
