Marriage Renewal

by Elaine Grace

Part Two

 

Tomorrow is the first day of November. It is nine weeks since we have been at Dr Angel Celestine's retreat. I've experienced much as woman, wife and mother and have learned much, as Angel said I would. In those nine weeks, I have had a bikini wax, totally redone my makeup to please my husband, changed my hair color, let my husband love me "in the back door", been to the doctors and begun to discover how necessary and how hard it is for a woman to lose weight.

*****

In my first week as the new Barbara, one of my learning experiences included receiving a bikini wax. That morning, Ed asked me what I was doing during the day. I had looked at the calendar and casually replied that I had a salon appointment for "waxing", which was all that the old Barbara had written in. He had just smiled, kissed me a passionate goodby, told me to "have a good day" and left for work. In the early afternoon, as I lay on the table, clad only in my bra and an extremely skimpy paper thong, I painfully realized what a bikini wax included!!!

As Beth, the technician, denuded my private area of hair, she commented, "This is the first time I think that I ever done a bikini waxing on you, Barbara. Something special coming up? A cruise or something?"

I realized that the old Barbara had scheduled this, before we had gone on our retreat. No wonder he smiled so that morning! With teary eyes and gritted teeth, I explained that my husband and I had made a commitment to be more pleasing to each other as part of a serious effort to renew our marriage. I was doing this to please Ed.

Beth commented," Yeah, we pay a high price to be beautiful and to please our men, don't we?"

I could only agree most heartily. The other parts of the treatment–-the rest of my legs, the arms, underarms, eyebrows–-seemed easy compared to having my bikini area done.

That evening, Ed entered the kitchen as I was finishing paring vegetables for our salad. He patted my rear end, then stood tightly against me, kissing the back of my neck , putting his hands inside the front of my pants and rubbing my panties.

"Did you have a good day, sweetheart?'

"You beast! You know very well what kind of day I had! You could have warned me!"

"What? And spoil your adventure in learning about womanly grooming? But you know that you did it to please me. And I'm very thankful."

"Just how thankful are you, husband of mine?" I asked.

"I'll be glad to show you tonight, sweetheart," he whispered as he nibbled on my ear.

I confess that a few shivers ran up and down my smooth arms and legs. That evening, as he recited to me one of my favorite Elizabeth Barrett Browning poems, he tenderly caressed my newly glossy skin. Carefully, firmly, he moved me to excitement. When his manly equipment filled and transfixed me, I moaned with pleasure. I was familiar enough now with my womanly body that I used my muscles to squeeze against his manhood. His eyes glazed over. He came with deep breaths. I felt the two most intense orgasms which I yet known in my few days of being a wife.

Our sexual pleasure in just these couple of days was great; inside my head, I recognized that the new Ed was the reason. He was so much better as a husband than I had been. I knew already that if the old Ed had made love to the old Barbara as the new Ed did to me, my wish for more sex would long ago have been satisfied. The new Ed was indeed sexually demanding. Yet he was gentle, thoughtful, kind, and always concerned to content his wife as well as being gratified himself. I was learning. Falling asleep in his arms, I admitted to myself that the waxing was worthwhile.

That same week, I went to a major department store in our nearby mall. I had put on only enough of my makeup so that I didn't look pasty. I plopped myself down on a stool at the makeup counter of a well-known brand name of beauty products. A pretty young clerk asked what she could do for me. I explained that I wanted a whole new look, both for day and for evening. She worked with me for an hour and a half. I left with $165 worth of new cosmetics. Sure enough, Ed did not complain about the expense. He complimented on my new look and made sure that I knew first hand how thankful he was for my effort at a make-over.

I saw my family doctor, Dr Anderson, who told me that I was twenty-seven pounds overweight. This was much more of a problem than I had anticipated! Dr. Anderson told me that I needed to make a serious effort at weight control before my problem worsened. I didn't argue with him.

On Saturday afternoon Ed worked on the garden and the lawn. Internally, I felt pleased. I realized how much that effort meant to the old Barbara. As late afternoon approached, I started dinner, then found myself automatically, once I had the roast and potatoes in the oven, shampooing and setting my hair. As I thought about it, I remembered that this was often part of Barbara's preparation for church.

I was back in the kitchen, fixing vegetables, my hair set in curlers and covered with a hairnet, when Ed came in. He looked at me, whistled and declared "Mmmmmm! Dinner smells good and the cook looks good! Barbara, you look cute with your hair in rollers. Now I see why having a wife with her hair up is such a turn-on!"

I blushed and remembered how many times I had said that same line or ones like it. Oh no! I thought to myself. Here it comes. I remembered how I used to do it when I was the husband. We were going to do "a quickie" and in a matter of moments I would be on the receiving end of Ed's passion while I had my hair up. Once again, I found myself securing my own desires, only from the woman's part.

He started with rubbing my bottom, stroking my thighs, patting my set hair. Not long thereafter, my panties, slacks and shoes were on the living room floor. I was on my back on the sofa, three fluffy pillows keeping my roller-covered head comfortable, his member firmly opening me while his hands pressed gently against my hair rollers and his mouth about swallowed mine completely. The sensation of the pressure within me, the passionate kissing and his strong and gentle pressure on my scalp caused me to wrap my legs around him. I shook with my internal explosion and shortly felt him vibrating within me. I confess that I enjoyed myself. Even for a "quickie" the new Ed was slow and considerate enough to make sure that I was pleasured and satisfied.

"Can't keep it zipped, big boy?" I teased as I put my panties back on.

"Not when I'm around my sexy-looking lady with her hair in curlers," he answered.

"Are you ever satisfied?"

"Frankly, no, not yet. I'm really enjoying this male body and very much enjoying loving my wife. Want to do it again?"

I laughed. "Tonight, tiger! I've a dinner to get finished. You can set the table, please. Thank you for all the work in the garden, dear."

His grin told me that he was happy AND that in bed that night I could expect a repeat performance. I thought I had been sexually demanding–the new Ed seemed insatiable! Sure enough, that night I went to bed with the intention of going to sleep, with my back to my husband. Ed started kissing my exposed neck area between the top of my nightie and my bottom row of hair rollers, patting my hair on the rollers, then a little nibble on my ear, followed by another kiss on my neck, another little ear nibble, a squeeze to my tender nipples, a finger under my nightgown, massaging my opening, then several fingers at my opening while he's kissing my neck. Shortly, we were lying face-to-face as he pleasured me. My kittenish mew rose to a gasp as he brought me to orgasm.

"Ed, darling, this is really getting out of hand. I'm going to be very tender tomorrow. I'll probably walk funny and people will wonder what we've been up to."

"Let 'em wonder, sweetheart! We're just old married folks with no kids at home."

On Sunday as we left church, Dr. Diane Wellington, our pastor, pulled me aside. She smiled and asked quietly, "Come on, tell me, Barbara, how did your marriage renewal program go? I'm just dying to hear all about it!"

"I think it went very well, Diane. Ed and I had several very long talks. Dr Celestine was exceptionally helpful. We've agreed to make some changes to please each other more. I really sure that Ed has come back a changed man," I said truthfully. "I think that you'll see some changes in us both." I wondered if she noticed the different look of my makeup or my new high heels. And I wondered if she had noticed my slightly stiff walk or the look on my face, the look of a woman who's been busily performing her wifely duties and enjoying it!

"Oh, Barbara, dear, that's wonderful! I'm glad that it worked so well. Let's get together and have coffee sometime soon. I want to hear all about it."

"By all means, let's do. I'll call you soon." We gave each other sisterly kisses on the cheek and I hurried to catch up to Ed in the parking lot. I thought to myself: This will be interesting. I've often wondered what Barbara and the pastor talk about when they're together–now I'll find out first hand.

*****

In the second and third week of my new life, my younger daughter, Nancy, let me see how much Ed and I were changing. She also helped me find a good hairdresser to color my hair.

Nancy had been home for the weekend. On Monday morning, as she prepared to return to school, she breezed into the kitchen with questions.

"Hey, Mom, what's up with Daddy these days? And what's for breakfast?" She kissed me as usual.

"I've got some sausage heated for you and I'll make you an omelet. What do you mean, dear, about your father?"

"Oh, come on Mom! You've got to notice it, too. This whole weekend, he was like sweetness and light. Kept asking me how I'm doing, how's school coming along, how are Dan and I getting along. Last night he handed me forty bucks without my asking, saying I might need it. I almost fainted! And right before he left for work this morning, he hugged me and said that he wanted me to know that he loves me and is proud of me! What'd you do to him, Mom?"

I thought: If you only knew what your mother has done to your father! I placed her coffee, juice and sausage on the table and started her omelet. "Well, he made that retreat with me in Arizona. We worked at our problem areas. We agreed to make efforts to please each other more in particular things. He agreed to be more interested and supportive of you and your sister. He's letting me drive more often when the two of us go somewhere. And he's working at being more expressive of his love to me and to you girls."

"Like, UNDERSTATEMENT, Mom! I noticed he couldn't keep his hands off of you this weekend. It was embarrassing, my parents acting like a couple of newly weds! But it's kinda cute, too. Besides your obvious agreement to give in to his male lust, what else did you agree to do?"

I put her omelet in front of her. "Well, I agreed to try to lose some weight. I saw Dr Anderson and he wants me to go on a diet and an exercise plan. I agreed to update my wardrobe and my makeup. You know how your father has been about that. And . . . " I stopped, unsure about admitting to my daughter that I would soon become a blonde bombshell.

"Come on, Mom! Don't leave me hanging. No wait! I bet I can guess! You agreed to change your hair color, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did. I agreed to go blonde to please him."

"Wow! My mom, the sexy blonde! My parents, the love birds! If I ever need a refresher in my marriage, if and when I ever do get married, I'm going where you two went."

"Hopefully, you won't have to, Nancy. More coffee, dear?"

"Yes, please. So, when are you having your hair color done?"

"I haven't made an appointment yet. I guess in a week or so."

"Mom, don't go to your old frumpy beauty shop. Remember my friend Connie from high school? Well, she's licensed now and working at a great salon. She'll do wonders for you. She always told me how lucky I am to have a mom like you. I have her card in my purse. Let her do you, please? You won't be sorry."

Early on Tuesday of the next week, I found myself in Connie's chair in a very pleasant, upscale beauty salon, staring at my image in the mirror, with goop on my hair AND my eyebrows as she transformed into a blond. (Connie insisted that she do my brows as well so that I looked more like a natural blond.) After she had done my color, I studied my new hair while Connie set me on rollers.

I knew instinctively that Ed would love the blond-haired me. He would not be able to keep his hands off me. As at the retreat, I would be his dessert after dinner tonight. My instinct also told me that tonight would be the night in which my bottom would be the object of my husband's love making. As I sat under the hair dryer, I wondered what it would feel like. In spite of my trepidation, I found myself getting a little wet in my panties. I crossed my legs and changed my thoughts to selecting a dinner menu. Something inside me–-apparently another manifestation of the increased desire, foretold by Angel, to be the kind of wife for the new Ed that I wished the old Barbara was for the old Ed–-made me decide that I would serve myself up as a dessert he couldn't refuse. Tonight would be a night of good food, nice clothes, new makeup and wild loving! And if that included having to offer my plump tush for his satisfaction, well, I would just do that. In part, I resigned myself to the experience, knowing that it had to be, sooner or later; in part, I was curious about what it would feel like as a woman to experience such love-making. On my way home from the hairdressers, I stopped at the mall. The sweet clerk proved very helpful. She didn't so much as bat a heavily-madeup eye at my final selections. Maybe she was used to plump middle-aged wives being daring.

As soon as I returned home, I prepared a chicken and vegetable pie, a simple one dish main meal which Ed loved, with some stuffed cherry tomatoes as an appetizer. I selected a good wine. I would be his dessert. But his sweet tooth was still operative so I made a caramel custard, a favorite of the old Ed, for us to enjoy after he enjoyed me. With kitchen preparations completed, I went upstairs to dress.

As I zipped myself into a very firm control girdle, I swore that I would get serious about my weight loss. For right now, I would make sure that my man was turned on. I dressed in a green blouse and a rather tight fitting beige skirt that, even with my girdle on, accentuated my derriere. Shimmery sheer hose gave my legs an attractive look. I decided on a pair of beige pumps with a two inch heel. I used my new evening makeup, including, for the first time in either the old or new Barbara's life, false eyelashes, enhanced even further with plenty of mascara. I did my eyelids with coffee-colored shadow. I painted my lips with a shimmery dark plum lipstick and I used plum colored blush on my cheek bones. When I had finished, I looked at the new blonde Barbara in the mirror. I liked what I saw and I knew that Ed would too.

When I heard him enter the family room from the garage I came to meet him. His eyes surveyed me completely and the next thing I knew he was french kissing me while squeezing my buttocks.

"Wow! Barbara, you look fabulous!"

"You like it?" I asked, knowing full well that he did. I stepped away from his arms and turned around slowly so that he received the full effect of my blonde hair and my tightly encased rear end.

"Yes indeed I do! See, I told you that you'd be wonderful as a blonde!"

"Oh, you beast! But I guess I deserve that, don't I?"

He pulled me into his arms again and kissed me with a long, lingering kiss. "Dearest, you deserve the best. I confess that I'm learning so much walking around in your skin. I can feel, deep down, your passion and desire. I understand a bit now why you asked for some of the things you did. Thank you for making such an effort for me. Your hair is really lovely. Where did you have it done?"

"Let's eat and I'll tell you about my day and you can tell me about yours. I already know what, or should I say 'who' you want for dessert. There's a chicken and vegetable pie for dinner. Then you can have me for dessert and caramel custard afterward."

"Oh, I can't wait for either the main course or the special blonde dessert!" His smile ran from ear to ear. As he followed me into the dining room, he again squeezed my girdled bottom. I knew my instincts were right–I would be in the doggie position after dinner.

During dinner I fortified myself with three glasses of wine, knowing what was coming. When we went upstairs, I was light-headed just enough that I needed his arm. With a great deal of kissing, hugging and squeezing, we undressed each other. As we hugged each other's nude bodies, I said, "Honey, I know you want to enter my back door tonight. And that's alright. I've made up my mind to do this for you. There's lubricant on the bedside stand. Please, just use a lot of it and please, please be gentle. I'm going into the bathroom for a minute. You can get into bed."

"Barbara, you're wonderful. I promise that I'll be gentle."

He shot bolt upright in bed when I came from the bathroom wearing the sheer pink baby doll nightie, pink garter belt, opaque white stockings and pink marabou slippers with three and a half inch heels, all of which I had purchased at the mall. In a matter of moments, I lay with my stomach on two pillows, my tush elevated. Ed used two firm fingers to make sure that my rear opening was well lubricated. At his first entering push, I wanted to pull away but I stopped myself. Remember, Barbara, you agreed to this. It's better to get it over with. He promised to be gentle and you know that he will. I calmed myself. As he pushed further in, I felt a little lewd, dressed in a filmy nothing, my stockinged legs being spread further apart and his manly tool separating the mounds of my buttocks. When he began thrusting in and out, I surprised myself by thrusting back in response to his lunges. Suddenly, as his member continued parting my rear end, his hands were expanding my front opening. I gasped and moaned. I was being impaled, front and back. I felt like his drilling maleness in my rear and his piston-like fingers in my front would shortly create a new transcontinetal railroad, running deep within me. Any moment, he will go completely through me! Involuntarily, I shuddered with an orgasm. I heard him gasp, felt him spasm in my hind end and I came again.

"Do you still love your round little harlot?" I asked after we caught our breath and we cuddled face-to-face.

"Dearest, I love you more than ever. As long as you are just MY round little harlot, I'll never stop loving you. Did that make you feel like a scarlet woman?"

"Yes, a bit. No, a lot! I felt wild and lewd! You know that has to be the kinkiest sex we've ever done. Yet, I confess, I kinda enjoyed the wildness. It was a new pleasure. Thank you for being gentle and taking your time. Was it good for you? What you expected?"

"Yes, every bit and more. Where did you get this outfit?"

I told him about the plan which I had devised as I sat under the dryer at the hair salon and about my shopping on the way home.

"You are a wild, delightful woman. What a sexpot! My, my!"

"I'm learning, dear, I'm learning. Thank you for being the kind of husband I should have been. This would very hard without your patience and gentleness. I'm learning a lot from you about what a good husband should be."

"Dear, I'm learning too. I glad we're in this together. I keep discovering why you wanted things which you wanted. And I'm learning from you about being a good wife. The next years will be extremely interesting! But I'll confess. For the first time of 'back door' lovin'—I'm glad it was your butt!"

"You animal! But you're honest–I'll give you credit for that. Now are you ready for caramel custard?"

Ed covered himself with his dark blue bathrobe. I slid my new marabou slippers back on and the sheer satin robe which came with the nightie and which left nothing to the imagination. We went downstairs to eat our custard. Even while eating, Ed could not take his eyes or his hands off me. He kept either rubbing my stocking-covered thighs or playing with the lace over my breasts. His warm hands on my nylons or pressed against my breast gave me a pleasant sensation. When I got up to get him a little more coffee, he squeezed my bottom.

"My, oh my! That was fun!" he declared.

"What was? Squeezing my tush just now? Or the custard? Or the bedroom attack on my rear end?"

"All of the above," he answered with a mischievous grin. I knew that tonight was just the first of many times I would receive lovin' in my backdoor.

After our confection, we cuddled together in the family room. When the eleven o'clock news finished, we headed off to bed. Ed asked me not to change into my regular nightgown. I felt his erection again as he lay against me, touching my white nylons.

"No more tonight, cowboy. This little heifer is too tired. You're becoming a pain in the butt," I scolded mockingly. We laughed, hugged and fell asleep entwined in each others arms.

*****

In week six, I had my first period. The old Barbara had irregular periods for years, since she suffered a miscarriage two years after Nancy's birth. In the last couple of years, her periods came less and less frequently and she expected an early onset of menopause, like her mother. When I had this one, I thought I might well die! Cramps doubled me up for several hours. Ed was kind as ever, calling every hour from work to see how I was. He gave me good advice on becoming more comfortable. After three miserable days I called Dr Hoffman, the gynecologist.

Last week I went to my appointment with Dr Cindy Hoffman. I understood why Barbara preferred a female doctor for such an intimate examination. Being "up in the stirrups" on the examining table was disconcerting, to say the least. Given my limited womanly experience, I appreciated Barbara's selection of a doctor. The doctor and I chatted afterward.

"Barbara, you're not yet at the onset of menopause. Your period two weeks ago proves that. Medically, you should go twelve months or more before we say you are in menopause. You've had three menses in the last twelve months?"

I nodded.

"Well, you're forty-five. This is not uncommon or unexpected. Had any hot flashes yet?"

I must have blushed for a moment. "No, not yet."

Dr Hoffman giggled. "No, I don't mean the hots for Ed! So you two are rediscovering sex with the kids out of the house, huh? That's good." She smiled with a knowing woman-to-woman smile. "I encourage patients to keep an active sex life.

"Symptom-wise, once you do arrive at menopause, you'll start getting hot flashes, fatigue, headache, maybe feel a little sad or depressed. Some women develop some insomnia, some have a problem with nausea or bowels acting up or reduced bladder control. Many find reduced libido. Almost everyone has an increased weight problem. It varies. I'll start you on estrogen therapy when it's necessary. Most of those other problems, if they come, can be dealt with by appropriate medication. Psycho-therapy helps a lot of women, as well. I'll refer you to an excellent therapist, if that's required. She sees only women and I make a lot of referrals to her. My only concern right now is your weight. I agree with Anderson—you've got to get serious about dropping at least ten pounds, if not twenty. Given your history, I'd say that you could have to deal with twenty or thirty pounds of weight gain when you actually start menopause. If you ended up forty or more pounds overweight, we'd have a serious medical problem. I don't want to see you dealing with high blood pressure or cardiac problems or other obesity-related difficulties."

I agreed to take the weight problem seriously. I scheduled a followup appointment for next September but committed to call if I started experiencing other symptoms. When I got in the privacy of my car, I burst into tears. I cried not because of the fat; I knew I had to get serious about dropping some poundage. My heart was breaking because of a passing comment Dr Hoffman had made earlier in the exam. At the time, I held back my surprise and my tears. As soon as I was I alone, I began to bawl. I had to talk to Ed.

I prepared dinner with watery eyes and sniffly nose. Knowing that Ed and I needed to talk, I prepared some Polynesian meatballs and some bread sticks and set out the fixings for cocktails in the family room. (I continued to be amazed that I seemed to automatically have Barbara's great culinary abilities.) When Ed arrived home, I greeted him seated, with a glass of white wine in my hand. After returning his passionate kiss, I said, "Darling, fix a drink and come sit with me. We really need to talk."

He fixed himself a rum and coke (favorite cocktail of the old Ed). "What's up sweetheart? Something the matter?"

"Yes, dear, something's the matter. And it has been for awhile," I said softly.

"What's wrong?" he asked with alarm in his voice.

"I saw Dr Hoffman today."

"Are you OK? Is there something serious?"

"Other than having to watch my weight, I'm basically OK. But she said something to me in passing that shocked me, deeply shocked me. Why? Why didn't you ever tell me that you had a second miscarriage after that first one?"

Ed put down his drink and took me in his arms. "Oh, dear heart, I'm sorry, so sorry. I . . . I just . . . I . . . I was afraid, dear. I hadn't started to show. And I was afraid, so afraid and worried, after we had lost the other one. I just, it's just that, well, I didn't want to get your hopes up. And I didn't want you to blame yourself, or me, if we lost another one. I really didn't think that you could handle it. The doctor said I had only been nine or ten weeks. I figured . . . Oh, hell! I'm so sorry."

Though by now I had become used to hearing my old voice and answering in Barbara's voice when we had these private talks about our old life, this confession from the old Barbara in Ed's voice struck me at the moment as totally incongruous. I hugged Ed back, then pulled away. "Dr Hoffman said that I, or you, should have had a hysterectomy after that. Why didn't you?"

"Surgery was a recommended option but not the only one. I really feared that you could not have handled it, giving up the possibility of our having another child. I thought that given time, I would heal up and resume my normal cycle and, sooner or later, we'd get pregnant again and have our little boy, like we planned. I never seemed to become regular. Time passed. I figured that our opportunity was gone after six or seven years. Then it seemed better not to talk about it. I'm sorry. I truly am totally sorry."

By that point we were both in tears. After I managed to find some tissue and dry my eyes, I said, "I'm sorry too. I'm sorry that I was such an insensitive fool. I'm sorry that you couldn't tell me. I know now, being in your body these last few months, that you were right, right about what you felt. I couldn't have handled it. I would have blamed you or myself. I'm so sorry that you had to grieve all alone about losing another baby. But at least now we both know. Now we can grieve together."

We kissed and hugged and apologized several more times to each other. We ended up having our dinner by candlelight, sitting side-by-side. Our conversation came in whispers. By the time we went to bed, we were talked out. We enfolded our legs and arms around each other. With a few more tears and sniffles, we fell asleep. My last thought, as I dosed off, was that I still had so much to learn, much about who the person was whom I had married and much about being a good husband. Barbara had been right—I really needed ten years to learn. What more was coming?

 

To be continued . . . .

  

  

  

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