Erectile Delusions

ERECTILE DELUSIONS

BY:

D.P. BRYANT

My wife, Stella, would like to invite another man into our bed for a night of pleasure—her pleasure. At first, I thought she was joking. But now I’m not so sure. Reading those Fifty Shades of Grey books must have sparked some twenty-year-old erotic fantasy she never got to fulfill with me. Which I think I can understand. 

You see, Stella and I were high school sweethearts. It’s always been her and me in and out of the bedroom. We were each other‘s first and last. She was mine, and I was hers. That’s how it has been for the previous thirty-five years. 

As for our sex life, it has never been what the young folk nowadays call ‘vanilla.’ I like to think of it more as a rocky road— her smooth on the inside and me rocking her world on the outside. We just weren’t bonding each other in leather and using whips to inflict pain on our genitalia. No thanks. Alex Trebek, I’ll choose—keep my private parts for two hundred, please. But, things ran smoothly nonetheless.

It was all dandy until I hit fifty. That’s when the erectile dysfunction crept in and put a damper on our sex life. That was the first time it slowed down as drastically as it did. There was a point during the few months I never thought I’d have sex with my wife again. I couldn’t even get it up long enough to have any release alone. So, It was Sayonara masturbation and hello celibacy.

After a few emasculating months of being so discouraged and embarrassed even to try, one night, I let her attempt to work her magic after a little convincing. To my amusement—arousal—she was successful. At fifty-four, we were pumping and back in business. But, even still, here we are—threesome talk.

If my wife wants sex and I can’t consistently deliver reliably, then who was I to forbid her of that desire? As much as I want to please her, the day is here, and I’m unsure how I feel about it. Not good, Dan. You’re not feeling great. I didn’t feel good at all. 

As I stood naked in my bathroom mirror, drying off my wet body after the shower I had just taken—there was so much racing through my mind. Will this change things between Stella and me? If so, what will it change? Will this be a one-time thing, or will this begin to become a regular occurrence?

 I was driving myself insane. Sex was supposed to be fun, right? And, what’s even worse, I was the man. Men are the ones who were supposed to be the animals—the horn dogs who wanted in on the kinky action. Not my wife—not my Stella. What was wrong with me? I needed to get myself together because I only had a short while before the big event was planned to take place—in my wife’s vagina. Just thinking about her smiling with someone else in her makes my blood start to boil. How was I going to do this?

I’m sure you all are curious as to how I let myself get into this predicament in the first place. How exactly did Mr. Lucky get selected? I’m going to tell you.

First, to be clear, we weren’t looking. We were and are very happy in our marriage. This all came about in a drunken mess of a night when we were ripping and roaring out on the town. Yes, even people in their fifties can get… Oh, what’s the word my niece uses… Crunk.

O’Shea‘s Pub—where it all happened. What started as a bodacious evening out with my wife quickly switched pace to Stella exchanging flirty eyes with a lonely young man across the room throwing darts. It was like I was at the movies, and Nights in Rodanthe was playing before my eyes. Except, I wasn’t the man playing Richard Greer. 

And, while harmless flirting with a young man who resembled a young Arnold Schwarzenegger, fully decked out in leather is harmless from a distance, sure. But the harmless flirting quickly flipped scripts when that good-looking man took the liberty to strut his spunky self over to our table—pulling up a chair and sitting before even speaking a word. I wish he had never spoken at all. 

“Hello, there, little lady. When I looked over to see Stella’s reaction, she smiled the most I had seen her light up in a long time. She loved the attention. That’s the first time the green monster got a hold of me. Who did he think he was?

He did eventually turn to me and introduce himself. 

“Hello, sir, my name is Edward.” Stella erupted with excitement—It was her father’s name. After that, I don’t believe her eyes left his face for the rest of the night. 

It would help if you didn’t think too terribly of him because he was very respectful. He offered to buy us a round of drinks and kept the conversation appropriate. For some odd reason, I kept getting the vibe that he thought we were both swingers. I don’t know. It was a little strange to me, a handsome man in his mid-20s strolling over to spend the night with a couple of mature strangers.

With that said, it doesn’t mean I don’t think my wife could land a man like that—young and fit— with the stamina of a racehorse. She’s beautiful. Hands-down, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. And I’m not just saying that because she’s my wife. Her eyes were that of the midnight ocean—gray and hazy with a hint of blue— any man who dared dive into her intense gaze was bound to drown. I still did. 

The rest of the night was filled with my wife throwing more goo-goo eyes at her new friend, an overflow of alcohol, and topped off with Edward dedicating a karaoke to my wife. He was wooing, and she was swooning. I was losing. When the clock finally struck 2 a.m. I was happy to say, the last call for alcohol was announced. Shortly after the bar lights flooded the room, it was time to go. I was more than ready to go.

Edward walked us out to our car, shook my hand, kissed her softly on the cheek, and we parted ways. The whole way home, she gawked about Edward. Edward, Edward, Edward. Then she said something that took my breath away— not in a good way.

“I got his number. He is going to bring us dinner tomorrow. Wouldn’t that be fun, Dan ?” No, that would not be fun. But she looks so happy. I love when she smiles. 

“Oh, you got his number? That’s great, honey.” I was lying through my teeth. How about we talk about it tomorrow? You’re slurring your words, and I think I’d understand you better tomorrow.” In her drunken state, she excepted my plea and dropped the topic of lovely Edward. 

Before you knew it, it was tomorrow, and Edward was back in my wife’s mouth—metaphorically speaking. She had said he’d be over with dinner at seven and then added that it could have some sexy time afterward. In my mind, the words dinner and sexy time in the same sentence meant threesome. 

The look on her face was too exuberant to say no, so I didn’t. “Yes, dear, that sounds like a good night.“There wasn’t much life in my voice, but I managed to get the words out. The look on her face looked questionable but then quickly lit up and a huge smile. She stepped forward and kissed me on my cheek. Almost identical to the way Edward did to her the night before. 

“Ok, I have to run out and meet Marquita for our girl's day. We’re going to get our nails and hair done. I’ll be back before dinner tonight, but please ensure you’re ready by seven at the latest. I’ll call and make all the arrangements and see you later.“ Then, she placed her soft lips upon mine and turned away for the door. “I love you!” I love Stella. 

“I love you, honey.” But did I love the thought of sharing her with Edward? NO! I blew her a kiss as the front door clanged shut. 

**********

 It’s quarter till seven, and I’m standing here, still naked, debating whether I should put on clothes. Is it that kind of dinner party? My wife never gave specifics. She just left me with a dinner party and a sexy time afterward. I felt like a lost boy from Neverland.

Three knocks on the bathroom door make me jump. “Dan, are you almost finished in there?” I was, but I didn’t want to come out.

“What should I wear?“ I said, muffled through the door.

“Just something comfortable, dear.” I had to swallow the lump in my throat before I could reply. She was ready to get down to business. How did I let this get this far? I wasn’t prepared to share my wife with another man. I never would be. She was mine. 

“Ok, I’ll be right out.” Then, I heard Stella’s light footsteps step away from the door and eventually make their way down the steps to the kitchen, where she waited for me—and Edward. I never wanted to step out of this bathroom. But I had to. 

Almost in unison with me opening the bathroom door,—I hear the doorbell ring. It was him—here to take my wife. 

I started my agonizing walk down the steps to meet my wife and Edward in the kitchen. The air smelled mouthwatering. Was Edward bringing food with him to try and win her over through her stomach? Smart man. But I hate him.

When I rounded the corner to the kitchen, my heart was pounding, and my mind racing. I was half expecting Edward and Stella to be sprawled out on the table doing the number seventeen—the spread eagle. To my relief, they were not. Thank God. 

My heart rate began to slow when I realized that it was only Stella and me. I’m confused. I thought Edward was coming over for dinner. Or was he planning to skip dinner and come in for dessert only? I had to know.

“Where is Edward, my love?” Her face scrunched up.

“What are you talking about?“ What did she mean? What was I talking about? The threesome she wanted. Or did she?

“I thought Edward was joining us for dinner?“ I paused, taking in her confused expression. Then I stuttered, “Then, he was going to stay for a sexy time afterward?” Her expression quickly went from confused to amused in point five seconds. What was so funny? She was now laughing. What was I missing?

“Dan, What are you talking about? When did I say Edward would join us for dinner tonight?” Now that I think of it, she never said those words specifically. 

“I don’t know. I was hoping you were going to be able to tell me. You told me you got Edward’s number last night and would invite him to dinner. Then you were going to have a sexy time with him?” She lost it. She was now laughing harder than I had ever seen her laugh before. What in tarnation was so funny? I wasn’t the slightest bit amused.

She eventually settled down and regained her composure. “Woo, that got me.” I was very aware. 

“Honey, he gave me his number to the pizza restaurant he owns downtown called Edwards Italian Slices. He wanted to deliver us a free pizza. At the night's end, he felt he had intruded on our date night. So, he wanted to offer amends for stealing me away for the night.” She finished, and I stood there gobsmacked—Feeling like a damn fool.

It was quiet for a very long while. I didn’t know what to say. I assumed an entire scenario that was made up entirely in my head. I needed to be sure. 

“So, you never wanted to have a threesome? Or, sleep with another man?”

“Well, now that you mention it, it fulfills a fantasy I’ve had since I was in my early twenties. I knew it! 

 I opened my mouth to respond, but then I saw her wink. She was joking. For the first time all day, a smile spread across my face.

After explaining to her how far I had gone off the rocker. After, we spent the rest of the night divulging divine, deep-dish pizza while the Nights of Rodanthe played on the tube in the background. Life was good

Cuddled on the couch, she brought her tender lips to mine while I embraced her in my arms. Her kisses were my favorite. They always have been. They always will be. Then, my beautiful wife pulled away and looked at me with a look in her eye that radiated pure happiness. She was happy with me. Only me. 

The End