Married to a virgin (Lowblowemma and Genderbender)

[lowblow emma]

The figures on the neon clock beside my bed – our bed – glowed. 3.27 am. It seemed like I’d checked them ever minute for the past 51 minutes.

Today was our anniversary. Eighteen months since we had first met at the reception, six months since we had married. And still, still.

How had we, how had I, got into this mess? Because it was a mess, no doubt about it. None at all.

Once again, I ran over the course my life had taken, my excuses.

If only I could have been more like my sister. Our parents were strict and there was no way she would do anything before it was legal. But on that very day, she calmly walked over to our neighbour, the one who liked to watch us sunbathing, and when she came back it was done. It had been arranged in advance.

She’d told me: ‘It’s my birthday and I’m not going to lose my virginity to some fumbling teenager. Ron likes me and he’s a decent guy, good in bed too accordingly to his wife, I heard her telling her friends in the garden last year.’

I asked her what it had been like and she said: ‘OK, he was very kind and gentle, and it’s over with, which is what I wanted. Now I can get on with the rest of my life.’ Which she did.

It was different for me. There was my career – banking – I’d set my heart on it, right from when I was 13. It would be tough, my teachers told me, to succeed in a man’s world. So I devoted all my time and energy to it and succeed I did. Vice President now. And, well, to be honest, it wasn’t that I was opposed to sex, I didn’t miss it. ‘That,’ my sister told me tartly, ‘is because you’ve never had it.’

Well, I still hadn’t had it, not after meeting the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, not after marrying him, not after eighteen months. After all that, I was still a virgin.

 

[GenderBender]

We don’t sleep naked any more. It was Emma’s idea, and a good one. Neither of us could cope with our flesh rubbing against each other in the night. We’re both frustrated enough as it is without making things worse.

I wear cotton, leggings and t-shirt. She wears silk pyjamas, which I wish she didn’t because they feel like her skin when I touch them, but I don’t like to make her feel bad.

It was my fault, my stupid promise. Shortly after we met, I knew she was the one, so it was only natural, when she admitted she was a virgin, that I would promise not to sleep with anyone else and would wait for her, and then when she was finding it difficult, that I would wait until we were married. I don’t regret that because, to be frank, I don’t want to sleep with anyone else, even now, feeling like I so, as desperate as I am, she’s the only woman I want to fuck.

But why, oh why did I promise not even to wank? I was drunk, that goes without saying, but promise I did. She’s told me that she won’t hold me to it, but I feel that would be wrong, selfish if that makes sense. She even promised to give me a hand job or even a blowjob, although it was obvious that she wasn’t that eager to have my cock in her mouth. So why didn’t I just agree? Stupid idiot.

Which is why I am lying here in bed with a hard on that I could hang her car. It comes at all times of the day and night. And it’s not easy to pack away, especially not in my uniform, you’re not supposed to be packing something like this on duty. And I don’t want to, believe me, no I don’t want to. But it just takes my clothes rubbing or some sexy woman going past to set me off. Like my Colonel. It’s almost like she knows the effect she is having, walking around in her tight pants and tailored shirt over her tits.

I spent half the afternoon with her yesterday for a briefing about an operation. Hush-hush stuff. Overseas. I’ve not mentioned it at home yet. I don’t want to leave until this issue is resolved and I certainly can’t command a squad in my condition. The last thing I want to do is admit what’s going on or the state I’m in. That would go on record and spread around the base like a wildfire.

That’s why I’m going to see a doctor, off base naturally. So I took leave, which is why I am still in bed, having watched my wife strip and dress for work. I wouldn’t decently ignore her – she knew I was awake. If she feels only half as frustrated as I am, I feel sorry for her.

Fuck, what a mess, what a total non-fucking mess.

 

[lowblow emma]

Today was my annual appraisal. It had always been a breeze, with top ratings across all categories. My appraiser today was Naomi, eight years my senior, she had been my mentor when I joined the bank and we had been good friends ever since.

‘How’s married life treating you?’ she began. An innocent enough question or so it seemed, but it is always wise to be cautious in a formal setting. ‘It’s different,’ I grinned hoping that she would not probe further, but she did. ‘It can take a while to adjust to having another person in your life,’ she prompted. ‘Yes,’ I decided to head this line of inquiry off at the pass, ‘but I don’t allow it to interfere with my work, that always comes first.’

‘Comes’ first, the word made me cross my legs. If only, if only. Naomi didn’t notice, her head was down consulting her file.

‘It’s just,’ she said gently, ‘that you have been late for three meetings with clients recently, twice with the same client.’

Yes, she was right, no denying it, I had lost track of time. We were still sleeping naked then, hoping that something might happen, though I had no idea what. But inevitably we both woke horny and naturally Drew took advantage of that chance to get on top of and – exactly and, and what? and nothing. I just couldn’t do it. He was frustrated, I was frustrated, he thought it was his fault, I reassured him it was mine, so we cuddled and talked softly to each other and that made us more horny and then I noticed the time. So, yes I had been late.

‘And the client complained to the CEO on the last occasion.’

‘I apologised in person to the client,’ I wanted that on the record.

‘And you were late for internal meetings,’ Naomi had a full print out. Our CEO was very hot on timeliness. Did he have a schedule for fucking his trophy wife, I wondered.

‘There have also been mistakes, basic mistakes in calculations that a trainee would have spotted,’ her tone was sterner now.

‘Yes,’ I was ashamed that she was right.

‘Emma, it is good that you recognise that it has happened, but that is not going to rewrite history or justify the sort of appraisal you are used to.’ She saw the shock and disappointment on my face. ‘Look,’ her tone had softened, ‘I know what it is like to have a new man in your life. There are distractions, let’s call them, late nights of love making that prevent those last minutes checks on documents, early morning cuddles that lead to long slow fucks that-’ Her face was flushed, she must have been recalling her own experiences.

‘No,’ my voice was insistent, ‘no, Naomi, it isn’t that.’

‘Really?’ she sounded sceptical.

‘We don’t, you see, he hasn’t, I’m still, we haven’t yet.’

Naomi actually laughed. ‘Like that is it, well send him out to get some of those nice blue pills. They’ll soon sort him out.

‘No,’ I insisted again, I couldn’t let her think Drew was to blame. ‘It’s not him, it’s me.’ And so I had to tell her.

We sat quietly after I had finished. I left it to her to speak first. Eventually, she did.

‘I can’t imagine, I really can’t, what it must be like for you. But you must get help. This is going to drive you mad, both of you. I’ll speak to HR.’

‘Please, Naomi, please no.’ Her hand paused as it was lifting her phone. ‘Can’t we sort this without the whole bank knowing my personal difficulties. Please.’

She understood. HR meant Caroline who was a notorious gossip. She put the phone down.

‘OK, look, I’ll say that marriage has inevitably required a readjustment in the life-work balance, leading to a temporary diminution in performance. That allows me to postpone a final appraisal report for, say, 3 months. But you must promise me to see a doctor.’

I promised to make an appointment and stood up relieved. She came round the desk and hugged me, tight. ‘I am so sorry, Emma,’ she whispered. I imagined that her body was Drew’s and pressed against her, that her breath in my ear was his and leaned my head against her. I only just stopped myself stroking her, in the way Drew likes, down his spine and over his buttocks.

I went straight from the meeting to the washroom to change my panties. I always carried a spare pair nowadays for when I was wet, like now.