"Yeah," he admitted, his eyes firmly between my legs. "My wife..." he said, and it had sounded like mah hwa'f, "she doesn't shave like that."
"Oh, Weston," I said and leaned forward to caress his cheek. "That's alright, honey. You can have a big slice of my shaved pussy. You can enjoy it as much as you like." Having taken a shower, it had been washed clean, but again, I felt my pussy swelling up slightly. I was turned on by the little game I played with the man.
"I took two Viagra a little while ago." Said Weston and it had struck me as very arrogant for the men in the other room to assume I would be doing exactly what I was doing at this very moment. "I have a little problem, you see."
I cocked my head in wonder, hanging onto every word. "Mhm?"
"My wife and I," I rolled my eyes discreetly. His wife was not the subject I wanted to discuss, but I decided to remain patient. "We don't sleep together much. We don't have a lot of sex."
"Really?" I said, my eyes popping wide open in fake amazement. "When was the last time you guys... you know..." I nodded towards his crotch, triumphantly noticing him blushing.
"Oh..." sighed Weston, looking up on the wall as if looking for an answer there. "I reckon it had been some seven years."
Good God, I thought. I've been married for seven years and there would be no way I would stay with a man who wouldn't want to be with me. And to think that he calls the seven-year draught ‘not a lot of sex'.
"How come?" I asked. I put my hand on Weston's thigh and gently rubbed his dress pants up and down. I noticed him swallow hard.
"She says she doesn't like it. She says she's frigid." He said and for a moment looked very sad. I felt a small grain of shame stir inside my heart, but dismissed it immediately.
"So, if she doesn't want to have sex, you've no sex with her at all?" I asked, eyes still big. I must have looked like a silly little girl sitting there, asking him all these personal questions.
"I can't get it up for her anymore. Once or twice a year, she let me give her oral sex, but I can't really do much more. At least not with her."
"Oh, yeah?" I nodded. "And she likes that?"
"Yeah, she does. She says I'm very good at it."
"Ooh, good! And she cums?"
Weston smiled triumphantly. "Yes, she does."
"But she's frigid otherwise?"
"Yes." I was amazed at the man's ignorance, but decided it wasn't my place to educate him. If after all this time walking the Earth he couldn't distinguish between frigidity and plain disgust, it was him who was a fool and not me. I couldn't have cared less.
"You ever slept with another woman after your wife?" I asked and he shook his head from side to side, not denying nor admitting it.
"I tried, but I couldn't get it up for her, either. That's why I took Viagra. And, if I can't do anything today, you know..." he looked me in the eyes and for a moment I stopped pretending; he had my full attention. "I'd appreciate if you didn't say anything. I just wanted you to know up front, you know..."
"Oh, sure... sure..." I hurried to pacify his fears. "We can always try and see what happens, right?" I said and since it didn't seem like Weston was going to be the one taking initiative, I slid off the pillow and laid flat on the bed, the covers off, my body clearly exposed to his prying eyes. "Why don't you take off your clothes and show me how good you are with your tongue, then?" I said, softly cupping his crotch in my hand. He closed his eyes and sat like that for a moment.
The one thing that struck me as funny was that Weston's big ears were so thin, I could see the light through them from the small lamp on the computer desk. I wanted to laugh out loud, but thought the better of it. Here was an obviously very insecure man with an erection problem and laughing might be the last thing that would help.
"Come on, then!" I said and nudged his knee, making him get up.
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