He was twenty years old, only doing what most young men wanted to do, so it shouldn’t have angered me. But it did. A year ago it would have amused me, and I might even have laughed. Now though, hearing him having sex with his girlfriend was like a dagger to my heart. It was a reminder of what I wasn’t getting. And to make me even more frustrated, his bedroom antics had become a regular occurrence.
I met Brad, his Father, five years ago. Both of us were instantly attracted to each other, and it wasn’t long before we were planning a wedding. I didn’t have children, but he had Ryan. Then he was a shy teenager, but now he’s matured into a confident adult. He has his Father’s good looks, so he’s never without a girlfriend. He’s a good Step-Son and I’m very proud of him.
For a long time, even though Brad is twenty years older than me, our sex life was wonderful. It was all I wanted, all I needed. I was completely satisfied. Then, a year ago, when he reached sixty, it started to go downhill. Slowly at first, then it quickly gathered pace.
“I’m tired, we’ll do it tomorrow,” soon became just, “I’m tired,” and then there’d be no sex the next day. It might then be ten days or more before he was in the mood. And now it’s worse than that. It’s not unusual for us to go a month without any kind of intimacy.
I still loved him dearly, so I was sympathetic. He wasn’t a young man anymore so his declining interest in sex was understandable. However, I had my needs, so two months ago, after I poured my heart out to him, he promised to up his game. And he did, but not for long. Now, sadly, we’re back to square one. It’s not that he can’t get it up, it’s that his desire to get it up is weak. Once a month is enough for him, but for me it needs to be at least once a week, and ideally, twice a week. And if he was to ravish me more than that then I wouldn’t complain!
Apart from in the bedroom, our relationship is a good one. I’ve got a lot to be thankful for. Most of the time I manage to put my sexual frustration to one side, but when I hear my Step-Son grunting, and his latest girlfriend moaning loudly, it’s impossible to do that.
I don’t want to hear them. I’m not listening at their bedroom door with a hand between my legs so that I can finger myself. I’m in the master bedroom, with Brad next to me. He’s asleep, oblivious to the noise that they are making in the next room. For me, sleep is impossible, it’s going to be torture until they’ve finished, and because both Ryan and his partner are young, I will have to endure it for a long time.
When their love-making reached its peak, it became a cacophony of sound, with the creaking bed taking the lead role. I groaned, and then I covered my ears with my hands, but I could still hear them. I was highly aroused, but there was no outlet to my pent-up passion. I was as frustrated as a woman can ever be.
In the morning, while we all ate breakfast together, I put on a brave face. I was the perfect host to our guest, Chantelle. Last night, Ryan had taken care of her in the bedroom, and I was now taking care of her in the kitchen. Despite being envious of her because of what she was getting from my Step-Son, I liked her. She was a cut above the bimbos that he normally dated. Like the others, she was a beauty, but this one had a brain. Intellectually, she was his equal.
By nine o’clock they’d all gone. Ryan and Chantelle off to university, and Brad off to work. This was ‘me time’. While having another coffee I was going to relax for at least an hour, and then I was going to do the housework.
It wasn’t long before I was thinking about Ryan and his girlfriend. Another night like that would be too much to bear. Something had to be done about it, and soon, before I went mad.
I’d already tried masturbating while they were performing. I’d got a lot of pleasure from it, but when it ended it left me frustrated, even when I’d climaxed. I didn’t want my fingers on my clit, I wanted a cock deep up my pussy.
There was only one thing for it, as difficult as it would be, I was going to have to speak to Ryan!