It was three years ago today, when I was about 80 miles away from home, that Dee called me to let me know about her doctor's appointment. She'd gone into it with a list of complaints - things she'd told the doctor about in the past that he more or less dismissed as being typical for a middle-aged woman who's working full time, running a household, and being an active mom, but she was determined this time to make him stop and listen, and to understand that regardless of whether it was "normal" or not - she didn't want to feel this way, having difficulty sleeping, being tired, having little ambition, but mostly just not feeling good or "right." Well, when she broke down in tears he took notice and suggested that she might be experiencing depression; he gave her some pill samples to try. I'm not one to put great stock in the ability of medicines to make any kind of real difference, so I spent the rest of my evening on the road not really thinking that the pills Dee had been given would do anything substantial for her.
If you've read this whole blog from its beginning or already know our story you might want to skip the next paragraph; it's a bit of background.
I met Dee in '82 and we connected instantly from the first evening that we spent some time together talking. Within weeks we were having sex - wild and wonderful sex, and at times I thought that Dee might have a touch of nympho in her. In eight months we were married, and three years later we became parents; with the birth of our first child gone totally was whatever vixen Dee had left in her. She turned into the classic PTA mom - not the kind who wears a garter belt under her Jeans and smears her red lipstick all over your cock when she sucks it - the kind who devotes herself entirely to parenthood to the exclusion of adult fun of any sort. Two years later Dee's mom died unexpectedly after a short illness and Dee turned even more serious about everything. Her dad, sister, and brother, recognizing her superior practicality and wisdom, tossed managing their affairs into her lap and she was always "on call" whenever one of them had a problem. Sex became nothing more than another thing she had to do before she went to sleep - another chore. That went on for the next sixteen years during which I loved having such a "good" wife, but hated having her totally without a fun-loving side and a passionate side because her seriousness was nearly always at odds with my frivolity. That went on until three years ago this very day.
Dee took the first of the antidepressants in the early evening, and she was waiting for me to get home that night. I got in around 11 PM and she was waiting up for me - to make love with a passion I never thought I'd see in her again. Within three weeks my practical and prudish wife took off all her clothes so I could shoot some pictures of her to show on the internet in hopes of meeting somebody to be at least an erotic pen pal to her. A little over a week after that first showing I watched her take off all her clothes again, this time to fulfill one of my longest standing fantasies - to make love with man while I watched. I'll save the "statistics" for late July when we'll celebrate the third anniversary of Dee's becoming a "hot wife," but rest assured that life here is very good. I have back the girl I fell in love with once upon a time. She's still responsible and practical when she needs to be, but when her panties hit the floor she sizzles!