Marriage Renewal

by Elaine Grace

Part One

 

For our twenty-fourth wedding anniversary, I promised my wife, Barbara, that we could do whatever she wanted to do in order to celebrate. After all, twenty-four years is pretty special. And I already had some ideas about what to do next year for our twenty-fifth anniversary. I thought that would be the ideal anniversary to redo our vows in a public celebration. I'd wear a tuxedo, she'd wear a wedding gown. We would have our friends who had been best man and maid of honor come and stand with us again in a church ceremony. The ceremony would be followed by a traditional wedding reception, with plenty of good food, music and dancing, for family and friends at our club. Afterward, Barbara and I would escape to someplace romantic for a week or ten days. Of course, we would do lots of what newly-weds do–-make love repeatedly!

So when she told me that we were going for five days to a special retreat center in Arizona to spend some quality quiet time renewing our marriage, well, it sounded fine to me and I agreed. We were facing an empty nest, which I knew bothered her but I felt fine about it. Carol, our first born, was twenty-one, just finished college and had taken a job in an eastern city. Nancy, our number two daughter, was starting her second year at a college about an hour away. She came home weekends, one or two times a month. Barbara wished Nancy was around more and ran up a phone bill talking with Carol. Barbara couldn't understand how I could be so "callous" about the girls. I thought she was too "maternal" and should let the girls get on with their own lives.

After our plane landed at Tucson, we were met by a uniformed chauffeur and a pleasant young woman who introduced herself as Eunice, Dr Angel Celestine's administrative assistant. As we drove to the retreat, Eunice explained the rules of the retreat center. Each couple has their own private bungalow, separated from the others. Gardens, tennis court, horse-back trails, swimming pool and library are available for recreation to be used only when accompanied by a staff member and all visitors must remain away from the other couples working at their marriage renewals. Meals are prepared by the staff and brought into each bungalow so that the couple can eat and talk together privately.

The bungalow astounded me. It included a sitting room, a dining room, a tiny little kitchenette ["well stocked for snacking if you like"] and a large bedroom with a king-size bed. To one side of the bedroom was a bathroom with a clearly manly interior and accouterments–shower, whirlpool tub, well-lit shaving mirror, with a dark wood counter top running underneath it, a hand-held blow dryer on the counter top, everything decorated in dark brown and rich forest green. To the other side was a bathroom clearly designed for a woman's use––a shower-tub combination, a makeup mirror that looked like it came from a movie studio, a salon type shampoo basin with a reclining chair in front of it, a professional plastic-domed hair dryer, everything decorated in pretty pastels. As we settled in, I asked Barbara again what she paid for this place. When she told me, she added, "I am as amazed as you are dear. I had no idea the place was so posh!" Because my wife exercised great care with our money, I knew she was right. She had outdone herself. This had to be a great bargain.

 

The first three days were comfortably the same. The staff awakened us with a phone call. By the time we each had showered and dressed in our own bath room, a pretty maid had delivered a splendid breakfast and set the table. We had a meeting with a counselor who asked us questions about our marriage. At the end of the hour-long session, she would leave us with a questionnaire or written exercise which we were to do privately and review with each other in the afternoon. The remainder of the morning was for exercise or relaxation. One morning, we walked together, another we went riding and another Barbara wanted a nap so I walked in the grounds. The provision of places for worship and meditation in various religious traditions–Protestant, Catholic, Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist, Hindu–truly impressed me. I saw only two other couples, at a distance, during our whole time there. The significance of that did not dawn on me until the end of our retreat.

Lunch, like breakfast, was brought into our bungalow, served and cleared by staff. We had more free time, then talked with each other about the questionnaire or exercise. Then we watched a video about marriage, communication or children. The schedule allowed free time before dinner. Couples were encouraged but not required to dress for dinner. That meal, like the others, was delicious, completely served and cleared by a maid in the bungalow. Couples were expected to spend the evening together however they chose.

Barbara pleasantly surprised me Tuesday night by wearing a pretty dress and high heels and on Wednesday night, an evening gown for dinner. She had obviously had her hair professionally done. We had good sex each night.

As we finished our love-making on Wednesday night, I sleepily held her close. Barbara asked," Has this been good for you, dear?"

I murmured a sleepy affirmative reply.

"I'm glad, honey, I really am. Thank you for doing this for me. I really want the next twenty-five years of our marriage to be even better. I hope that you don't mind making some changes for me?"

Half asleep, I muttered some reassuring comment and dozed off.

Thursday morning, I went for my meeting with Dr Angel Celestine, the retreat director. She was stunning! Probably six feet tall, she had red hair hanging down to her shoulders. Despite her height, she wore high heels, dark hose and very business like grey pinstriped skirted suit. She showed me to a plush chair in her comfortable office, offered me coffee, and sat down on a chair opposite me.

"Well, Ed, has your time here with Barbara been good for you?" she asked pleasantly.

"Yes, doctor, it's been very nice," I answered.

"Oh, please, just call me Angel–-doctor is too formal."

"OK, Angel," I responded.

"Part of what I like to do for the last two days of the program is meet privately with each individual, ask some questions and facilitate a commitment to improvement from each couple. I want to ask some questions to round out what you and Barbara have been working at together and would like you to answer each one very, very honestly. I'm going to ask Barbara the same questions. Then we'll see if we can help you two commit to some long term improvements in your marriage. Is that OK with you, Ed?"

 

"Sure," I answered, a little nervously, wondering, if as a woman, she'd be more supportive to Barbara than to me.

"Ed, if you could have Barbara make any changes, anything at all, what would you ask her to do?"

I paused and said,"Well, you have to understand that she is a great homemaker, super mom to our girls and an outstanding cook and hostess."

"Oh, I do understand all of that, Ed. I'm charmed watching you two together. You get along better than many couples who come here. But every couple can make some improvements. If you could have Barbara do anything, what would you ask?"

"You mean ABSOLUTELY anything?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, absolutely anything–her appearance, her actions, her attitudes, her habits–anything. What would you ask her to do for you?"

Looking back on the experience later, I realized that was the moment I put my foot into it–very deeply. Suddenly feeling very comfortable with the attractive Dr Angel and feeling like she was now my confidant and drinking buddy, I began to answer.

"Well, you know she colors her hair, and I don't mind. In fact, I approve. I understand a woman's desire to hide the grey hair but I'd love it if she'd go blonde! I think with her blue eyes, she'd be dynamite but she says that's too, I don't know . . . bold and brash."

"OK–-blonde hair." Angel made notes on her notebook. "What else, Ed? Remember, anything."

"Well, she looks great in high heels and a dress. But she complains about the bother. She wears too many slacks and flat shoes. And her taste is a bit too conservative for me. You know, I've done alright in my engineering work. She could dress a lot nicer if she chose and still not blow our budget."

Angel made more notes and smiled encouraging at me.

"And if she'd lose twelve or fifteen pounds–-she's not fat, just a little round–-she'd look great. You know she got me to slim down a couple of years back when she was worried about my weight and blood pressure. Now, I try to get her to come to the club and workout with me or play a round of golf or tennis or go swimming, and, well, she just doesn't want to. And if I suggest that she wear a girdle under her dress when we go to church or to the theater or to eat out, you'd think I was asking her to drink poison!"

Angel smiled reassuringly and "Please, go on Ed."

"Well, you being a family psychologist and all, you understand what I'm going to say. Our girls are out of the house. There's just the two of us at home most of the time now. Frankly, I think we should have sex a lot more than we do. Our lovemaking has been one of the best parts about being here. And we could be a bit more adventuresome. She would be so sexy in one of those Victoria Secret outfits with garters and stockings but she won't ever try. If she came into our bedroom in some sheer, tight little outfit with stockings and high heels, I'd be drooling! She could have me do whatever she wanted! And we could do it in different positions, you know what I mean? More than once I've thought her cute, chubby little tush would . . . well, you know what I mean."

 

Angel smiled encouragingly. "Sure, I do know exactly what you mean. Go on."

"You know, when we do go out, and she has her hair done at the beauty salon and takes a little extra time with her makeup, she looks just fabulous. I've tried to get her to have her hair done more often and to update her makeup. And again, it's not like she can't afford the time or the money."

"Those things sound reasonable, Ed. I've noted all of those for my discussion with her and for our session together. What about her homemaking? Cooking? Her mothering skills? Anything in those areas which you think she should change?"

"Well, she's way too possessive with the girls. They are fine young women. I tell her, 'Let 'em alone! They'll do alright' but she's so mothering–-sometimes I think the girls resent it. But as a homemaker, she's wonderful. And she's a super great cook! If she was as adventurous with her looks and with sex as with her cooking, I'd be in heaven! She has never overspent our money. When we have guests, she is a fabulous hostess–friends from church or work love to be at our house. I just wish that she would be more willing to attend business functions with me–she's a great asset to my career. And she should go back to school to earn her master's degree. You know, we were married two weeks after we graduated from college. The she worked to put me through grad school. By the time I finished and found my first engineering job, she got pregnant with our first daughter. She never pursued her dream of getting her master's degree and becoming a librarian. She wouldn't have to work. But we have the time and money for her to do her master's degree now, just for her own satisfaction."

"Those sound like very achievable goals, Ed. And it's sweet that you want her to pursue her dreams, too. When I talk with Barbara next , what do you think that she will tell me about the changes which she would like you to make?"

"Well, Angel, we've been working at the discussion exercises which we've been given by the staff. Frankly, I think she's voiced to me this week things which she's said in one fashion or another the last few years. She wants me to work less and pay more attention to her. She'd like me to be more interested in our daughters and what they're doing with their lives. She likes the way I keep up the inside of the house but would be happy if I'd do more with gardening and the lawn care. She thinks that I don't appreciate what she does to run the house and to entertain and to be involved at church. She wishes that I'd be sympathetic to how hard it is for her as a woman to lose weight. And not bug her about doing it. And when we go places, she'd like to do some of the driving."

I paused and looked directly at Angel.

"Well, Ed, what do you think? Are those real issues? Can you make some changes in those areas?"

I paused again. Then I said, slowly, "Yeah, I'm probably not as bad at those things as she says but I am willing to try to do better, in some ways."

"That's very good, Ed. Let me ask a couple of questions to finish. Then you can go relax. I'll chat with Barbara and then you two will have a quiet, romantic lunch in our special garden. Tomorrow morning, you two together will sit down with me and we will process together how you two plan to carry out improvement for one another. If you could, in some fashion, provide a role model to Barbara for being the kind of wife you like her to be, would you do that, Ed?"

"Well sure I would but I don't know how that could be."

"Oh, I understand perfectly, Ed. What I am asking is a way to gauge your willingness to change–to change her and to change yourself. Are you willing?"

"Sure," I answered, "that's why I agreed to come here with Barbara."

"And a final question, Ed. If you could pick a time period–-any time from as few as fifteen months or up to one hundred fifty months–-in which you two could work at pleasing each other more, and really find in her the kind of wife you wish and have her find in you the kind of husband she wishes, and then return here and report back, how much time would YOU pick, Ed?"

"You're talking in a hypothetical situation?"

"Again, Ed what I'm seeking is a measure of your willingness to change Barbara and to be changed yourself. If you could have her be without question the kind of wife you described and you, without question, be the kind of husband she wants–-for a time between fifteen to up to one hundred fifty months, how much time would you select?"

Almost without thinking, I answered, "To have her cooperate like that, well, I think ninety months would be great. Yeah, ninety months. That's–-let's see–-seven and a half years."

"OK, Ed. Thank you. That's wonderful. I think that when you leave here, you and your spouse will be at the start of a wonderful, new marriage. You've been very honest and open, Ed, and I truly appreciate that. I firmly believe that you two will find that your time here will improve your relationship over the next few years, in ways expected and unexpected. I'm confident in saying that you and your spouse will be a new Ed and a new Barbara when you leave here. Thanks again Ed for making such a good effort."

Angel showed me out. I had no idea at the time of the significance of her closing words. The discovery of the truth of them stood only a few hours away.

I walked in one of the gardens for the next hour and a half. Then one of the staff butlers found me and lead me to a gazebo which I had never seen before. Barbara was already there, seated at the well-set luncheon table. She looked beautiful. For the first time during the daytime at the retreat, she was wearing a pretty navy blue dress, sheer black hose and navy high heels. Again, her hair had been professionally styled and the fit of her dress suggested that she had a girdle on underneath it. She stood up and hugged and kissed me passionately. I felt that tonight would be another good night!

"Thank you for loving me so much, Ed."

"This is new, honey? Of course I love you."

"Well, I'm very glad you made this program with me, dear. Let's eat–I'm starved."

Lunch consisted of a small steak, done just the way I like it, garlic mashed potatoes, a tossed salad with fresh, sweet vegetables, and an incredible red wine. The last thing I remember was looking at Barbara's stunning blue eyes as I finished a second glass of wine.

*****

At 10:30 Friday morning, we were seated in Angel's office. The only problem was that I was Barbara and Barbara was Ed!!!

I had been awakened by the soft touch of repeated kissing on my cheeks. However, the next two hours were filled with disbelief, panic and anger–because somehow I was in Barbara's body and she was in mine!

After repeated staring in the full length mirror, pacing the bungalow, squeezing and touching myself, muttered denials about scientific impossibility, ranting about the laws of nature, mathematical calculations of probability, ruling out suicide and careful consideration of what I thought were ALL the laws of medicine, biology, physics and engineering, I had at last quieted enough to follow Ed's advice [how can that be? I'm Ed! But I look like Barbara! And that person over there looks and sounds like Ed! And when I talk, I sound like Barbara! This just can NOT be, can it?].

I had eaten breakfast, showered and dressed. [That shower, the first in my womanly life, seemed like a dream. Breasts! My breasts! A soft vagina. Mine! Short, slim fingers with red polish on the nails. MY polished fingers! A plump little bottom. MY plump little bottom! Pudgy toes with polished nails, matching the fingers. MINE! This is impossible!!! But there I was in all my--all Barbara's--womanly form.]

We sat in front of Angel, whom I now began to sees as a being like her name–a heavenly creature with tremendous power. I , the new Barbara, was wearing flowered pants, a pink blouse and matching pink flats over a bra, panties and knee-high hose. Ed, the new Ed, was dressed in a khaki shirt, jeans and brown sox and loafers.

"How did you do this?" I almost whined.

"With a power beyond that which your science knows, my friend. But absolutely in safety," Angel declared.

"And how long will we be like this?" I inquired wonderingly.

"Well, Ed you requested ninety months–very reasonably, I might say–but Barbara requested the maximum one hundred fifty months. So I compromised. You, Ed, will remain Barbara and you, Barbara, will remain Ed for one hundred twenty months."

Stunned, I stared at Angel! One hundred-twenty months!!! Ten years!!! I was going to be walking around in my wife's body for the next ten years!! This could NOT be!

Ten years–-it hit me like a thunder clap and a bolt of lightening!! "So next year at our anniversary, when we redo our wedding ceremony, I'll be the one in the wedding dress? And I'll be going through menopause?" I choked out the first two thoughts that ran in my troubled brain.

Barbara–-or I should say, the new Ed–-just smiled sweetly. Angel nodded her assent.

"You each will be aware of who you are, yet each will readily find access to the skills of the other. Barbara will exercise Ed's mathematical and engineering skills. Ed will exercise Barbara's cooking and literary skills. Whatever changes you make to the body in which are now present will accord with the rules of your earthly nature. So, Ed, if you diet and exercise to lose ten pounds, you will. Barbara, if you work to improve your golf game, you will. You can talk to each other as your pre-reversed selves. And you can do so with me. But we have built into your reversed selves a guard at the lips which will successfully prevent you from ever saying anything to or in front of anyone else about this experience. Your family and friends will see you, Ed, as Barbara and you, Barbara, as Ed for the next ten years and be no wiser. And you will find increased desire to do those things which you told me you would find pleasing in your spouse. For example, Ed, you will increasingly want to have your hair done and wear high heels to please Barbara. Barbara, you will want to work in the garden and mow the lawn to please Ed.

"Part of the new intimacy in your marriage will be those many evenings in which, cuddled in each others arms, you will share about what used to be and what you are learning about each other. I guarantee, with an Authority greater than myself, that you will come through the next decade in greater love than you have ever known. There is no need to be fearful or anxious. Love drives away fear and anxiety. And you will, certainly, grow in love together in the coming years."

We returned to our bungalow, had lunch and took a walk together. Ed held my hand as we walked and had his arm around my waist.

"I have to ask, dear, did you know about this . . this 'reversal' before we came here?"I asked my now "husband." I was still unaccustomed to being Barbara's five foot five inches staring up at me or rather, at Ed's five foot ten height.

"I must admit that I did. In fact, that is why I wanted to come. I had to fill out a written application to Angel, have that approved and be wait-listed. She takes only a limited number of clients each year. I was hoping we'd be here last spring but I think that this has turned out better. Please, dearest, don't be angry with me. I did this for OUR sake. And as Angel said, we really will grow in love. It's for our own good, dearest. I understand that you might not believe that now. I understand what a shock this. Even with knowing what would happen, I'm finding being in this muscular body of yours takes some getting used to."

I felt, strangely, like I wanted to cry. I let us walk on in silence for a few yards. When I felt that I had composed myself, I said," Didn't you think that there was some other way to improve our marriage?"

"Frankly, after having tried to discuss some of these things with you for the last five years, no, I felt we needed radical change. I love you. I do not want a divorce. I do want understanding, some consideration. I decided that we needed drastic measures. I believe, as I have talked with Dr Angel and her staff, that I will learn a great deal as well."

With that, he stopped abruptly and turned me toward him. Hugging me firmly with one arm, he lifted my chin with the hand of the other and passionately kissed my upturned lips. I confess that I felt a little pleasant tingle between my legs. We walked on in mutual silence, arms around each other, for almost two hours, until it was time to return to our bungalow and prepare for dinner.

*****

I was sitting under the hair dryer, wondering about the days and weeks to come. After I had showered, the hairdresser arrived.

"Hi, Mrs T—, are you ready for me to do your hair for tonight?," the sweet young thing asked.

She shampooed me and set me in rollers. Before she put me under the dryer, I had stepped into the bedroom to pick up a book to read while my hair dried. Ed, in his robe, was just coming out of his shower, looked at me, whistled and declared "Barbara, you look cute with your hair in curlers."

I blushed and remembered how many times I had said that same line. I blushed also remembering that on more than one occasion, I had insisted on "a quickie" while Barbara had been running around the house with her hair in rollers, pins and a net. Something told me it would not be too long before I would be on the receiving end of the passion while I had my hair up. He probably would have taken me right then except for the presence of the hair stylist.

I could not focus on the book in my lap. I kept thinking about this strange transformation and what the future might hold for the new Barbara, for the new Ed and for our marriage. Angel's words to us in her office [was that really just hours ago?] echoed in my head: "And you will find increased desire to do those things which you told me you would find pleasing in your spouse."

What exactly had I said? I struggled to remember my comments Thursday in Angel's office. Let's see–would any of it be too bad? I gulped as I remembered about wearing a girdle! But Angel had said I could lose weight by diet and exercise. Well, a girdle might increase my incentive to slim down. And I had trimmed down in my manly body, hadn't I? And that hadn't been too bad, was it?

What else had I said? Oh, get hair styled professionally more often and update the look of my makeup. Had I just said that to myself? "My makeup"? I really was thinking like Barbara! And here I was, sitting under a hair dryer, being styled by a professional. Oh, become a blonde! What did that involve? I guessed that I would soon find out. I tried to think of what else Barbara had done in the beauty salon. Once-in-awhile, she had a perm. What was that like? And she had her nails "done". I knew she had spoken about other things, but at the moment, I could not remember.

Was there more? Hmmmmmmmmmm! High heels and a new wardrobe. Barbara had always seemed to like shopping; she just did not seem to do it often. That can be fun, right? When she did shop, she had lunch with her friend, Wanda. I liked Wanda. She and her husband were a bit older than we were, friendly, witty, intelligent folks. I asked myself, shopping and lunch couldn't be bad, could it ?

Then I quivered as my own words came back to me: "Frankly, I think we should have sex a lot more than we do. Our lovemaking has been one of the best parts about being here. And we could be a bit more adventuresome. She would be so sexy in one of those Victoria Secret outfits with garters and stockings but she won't ever try. If she came into our bedroom in some sheer, tight little outfit with stockings and high heels, I'd be drooling! She could have me do whatever she wanted! And we could do it in different positions, you know what I mean? More than once I've thought her chubby little tush would . . . well, you know what I mean."

Oh, my God! Could I really manage to come into the bedroom in our home wearing one of those slinky, see-through outfits? With stockings? And heels? Showing off my breasts, my tush, my stomach? Suddenly, I had a quick understanding of Barbara's reticence. And I had long dreamed of anal sex but I always thought that I would be the one doing, not the one with my plump behind in the air for my . . . Oh, it was too much to even think about! Oh God! Would the new Ed want that TONIGHT? Would he gloat in triumph when he took me? Could I ever really desire to do that for my spouse?

I took a deep breath. No, I sensed that would not be tonight; maybe sometime soon in the weeks to come but not tonight. I anticipated what would happen tonight. Dinner would be special; after all, our last meal here. When we reached time for desert, Ed would say, as I had, more times than I could count, "What I want for desert is not on the menu but on the chair opposite me." Always, when I bedded her after using that line, I would call her "my sweet" and declare that I enjoyed my desert.

At the thought of losing my 'virginity' to my spouse, I found myself reflexively crossing my legs. I noticed a little feel of wetness in my panties. Angel's words came back to me: "You each will be aware of who you are, yet each will readily find access to the skills of the other." Barbara was an experienced lover. I would just have to settle in to allowing myself to use her love-making skills and experience. She'd seem to enjoy lovemaking–would I? Could I cope? Was I ready to be a wife? Had Barbara had these thoughts twenty-four years ago on the eve of our marriage?

With my hair dry, but still in rollers, I selected clothes from MY things. I found a brand new, high-waisted, beige-colored, very firm girdle, which I managed to wiggle into. [My careful spouse had obviously planned ahead and purchased it, knowing that I would be the one to wear it.] I also wore a beige bra, suntan colored pantyhose, a pretty beige slip. I picked a dress, with 3/4 sleeves, back zip, dusty rose in color, which reached to right below my knees. I slipped on a pair of matching heels with 2 & 3/4" spiked heel, pointed toe, keyhole vamp and perky little bow. The stylist did my hair and applied my makeup. I had already discovered that I had Barbara's ability to apply makeup but I was just too nervous to do a decent job tonight by myself. I finished with a pair of dangle earrings and a favorite bracelet.

The staff outdid themselves with dinner: a glass of sherry to start [in reversed role, I had the sweet sherry and the new Ed drank the dry]; stuffed mushrooms for an appetizer; crab-stuffed papaya for the salad; tender, delicately marinated prime rib; baked parmesan cottage potatoes, made with onion, a little garlic and pepper; and baby carrots broiled in orange juice and brown sugar. An excellent red wine accompanied the meal–I had two glasses, fortifying myself for what was to come. I knew that I would be served up as my husband's desert.

Sure enough, when the maid offered cherries jubilee for desert, Ed declared "What I want for desert is not on the menu but on the chair opposite me." The maid smiled knowingly, cleared the table and quietly left the bungalow.

I left the table. As I entered the bathroom to change clothes, I took several deep breaths. Even in the last few hours, I had discovered that if I relaxed, I could function almost automatically as Barbara, tapping into her experiences. I resolved, as much as possible, to let my Barbara nature guide me. Hopefully, I could learn from the adventure which was about to happen.

I entered the bedroom with trepidation. Clad in a short blue flowered nightie, I got into the large bed beside my husband. Shortly, I became a wife. I must say that Ed took his time, moved gently and found each and every one of my erogenous zones. I lost track of the clock. When he entered me, my breasts tingled, my opening was extremely wet, my lipstick covered lips quivered. My eyes, with lids seductively colored in rose and soft brown eye shadow, lashes done in eyeliner and mascara, closed. While I felt a certain fullness from his entry, I also felt strangely contented. When he began to thrust, my eyes shot open. I found myself instinctively thrusting back for all I was worth. I wrapped my legs tightly around him. I uttered a steady chorus of "Oh . . oh . . oh . . .oh" as he moved his kisses from my cheek to my lips and back to my cheeks. Then I felt his hands grabbing my bottom and pushing me toward him as his thrusts increased. The feeling of being skewered and filled excited me like nothing I had ever known before. When we climaxed, fairly close together, a gasp and a squeal unexpectedly escaped my mouth. Smiling knowingly, Ed held me and petted my neck, my breasts, my arms, my tummy and my thighs for another half hour.

As I dreamily cuddled against him, he said softly, "I did enjoy my desert, my sweet! Thank you, Barbara. Was that good for you, my sweet wife?"

"Yes, dear, extremely good. Thank you for being so gentle. An amazing first time for this strange 'virgin' wife of yours. If it will be this good for the next ten years, I guess that I can cope."

"Even when I insist on so many times in a weekend that you won't be able to get out of bed?" He had a wicked grin on his handsome face.

"You animal, you! Taking advantage of a poor, defenseless female! I guess I'll just have to learn a trick or two to tire you out, macho man."

"Well, you can try, can't you?"

We had just exchanged each others' lines again. I had threatened several times, since the girls were in college, to take a weekend where I would bed Barbara down morning, noon and night for a Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Now it might happen; however, I would be the one walking funny on Monday morning. Could I cope with receiving the new Ed's love making nine or ten or more times in seventy-two hours? Barbara–the old Barbara, the other Barbara-- had often responded by claiming to be a "poor defenseless female"–now, I, the new Barbara, would find out, from inside experience, whether she was or not. Could I learn a woman's tricks to exhaust a man with pleasure? Would this new, virile Ed be subdued by my feminine wiles and ways?

After a pause, Ed asked, "Honey, when this was your body, was it like that? That electric shock in the gut which tingles your toes and sends your brain spinning? Is that the way it is for men?"

"Well, dear, I can't answer for all men but, yes, that is, or was, the way for me. And that sense of being filled, a happiness and warmth–when . . . did you . . .I mean . . ."

"Yes, dear, welcome to the pleasures of being a wife!"

Moved by his sweet tone, I said, "Thank you–again–for being so gentle with me. Thank you for taking so much time to cuddle afterward. I know now why you always wanted that. I'm sorry that I didn't give you more of the gentle touch and holding as we finished. I'm sorry that it took this to let me understand."

"Well, honey, I think that you will understand a lot more over the next weeks and months. I must say, you make a great wife–so far! I guess I'll keep you."

"You know you'll never find a wife like me," I retorted.

"Yes, dear, I do know that. You've made a wonderful beginning to learning about womanhood."

I knew that Ed was right–-my learning about being woman, wife and mother was just beginning.

*****

The next morning we flew back to Chicago. I discovered first hand the discomfort of a long airline flight while one's waist and bottom are encased in a tight girdle. My new discoveries also included: observing that even a plump middle-aged woman gets ogled by some men, the problems with women's rest rooms in airports (too few stalls for too many women and sometimes not enough toilet paper or hand towels), the inability to run or even move quickly in modest 2" heels down a long airport corridor, the strange face of the man at the ticket counter who seemed unable to look me in the eyes but stared only at my bosom, the pleasant chattiness of most women--even strangers–with one another, and the nice feeling of my smiling husband holding doors open for me and carrying my things.

During our drive from Chicago, the new Ed did all the driving; I sat in the passenger seat. I painfully realized how much I considered "our" car to be "my" car. I felt myself learning another lesson. Once we arrived home, I felt very comfortable and relieved to arrive at our house in our suburban Indiana community. A surge of domesticity? Didn't Barbara always say how much she loved to be back in our own home? Another first-hand womanly experience. We unpacked and Ed kindly took me out for dinner so that I did not have to fuss with cooking our first night home. The oddness of my new status as Ed's wife struck me again as our favorite waitress greeted me with "Hi Mrs. T—! Do you want your usual?"

I quietly settled into bed later in the evening, snuggling with my back up against my sweetheart but my amorous husband, enjoying his new status, soon let it me known that he wanted me to perform my wifely duty. He kissed my neck, squeezed my breasts, and asked "Are you getting the point?" as he pressed his maleness against me.

Soon, I was on my back, my legs spread, welcoming his attentions to my wet opening. Vigorously, his tongue found its way into my willing mouth. He moved his eager lips to my breasts; my nipples speedily responded to his oral caresses. Entering me with firmness, yet gentleness, he soon had me squealing with delight, as he had the previous night. In response, remembering what had turned me on in my maleness, I ran my polished fingernails down his backbone. He bucked furiously within me. Answering, I clenched my legs around him. Putting my hands on his firm, muscular buttocks, I pushed him tighter into me. In turn, he seemed to go deeper yet within me. His maleness filled me. Explosions of delight followed. Two nights in a row–-if we kept this up, I really would be walking funny in the mornings!

Afterward, as I relaxed in his arms, I realized that he was a much better husband than I had been. I did, indeed, have a lot to learn. Yet, I realized that as a wife who had been that husband, I had done a thing or two which had increased his animal passion with me. What an amazing time this is, I thought.

Two days had passed out of the ten years scheduled for my life as Barbara. What more would I learn? What womanly and wifely experiences were yet to come? I fell asleep with a wonder, a contentment and a certain fear.

 

TO BE CONTINUED. . . .

  

  

  

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