Yes, apparently like most marriages, sex in our spousal bed did not hold up as strong as my wife's obsession. After the first year we slowed to sex ab...ut once a week instead of every day or two. A year or so later and it was once every two weeks and then three weeks. By our fifth year we reached our lowest plateau; we didn't have sex for over nine months and it wasn't because my wife was pregnant. She hates the idea of having rug-rats; always piping off about how if she ever had kids she would. The passion she felt was starting to take over her body and she wrapped herself around him more and tried to pull him closer. Her tongue was exploring now, licking his ear, then his neck. As he started to lift his body up, she quickly grabbed his nipple between her lips and pulled slightly, then ran her tongue all around it. With each lick, his moans got louder and louder. She wondered if she could make him cum. His moan was all the encouragement she needed. Her tongue went to work on his. She now faced me, her hands on my shoulder, "You broke your back a long time ago. You're very lucky. It should have paralysed you." I was startled. Yes, I had broken my back, some thirty or so years earlier, but I'd certainly never told anyone in this company. Letting personnel know at a job interview that you've had a broken back in the past can do strange things for your future employment prospects. Absentmindedly she said, "I need to give you a longer session of treatment for that," then she. Knute’s hands were resting at the bottom of his wife’s bosom. The kiss seemed to last for hours to the man watching from above, his heart breaking. When their lips finally broke apart both participants looked back through the open back door to the Knudsen’s house. Something amusing inside had caught their attention and they appeared to be listening. Knute called an answer into the house and Harvey saw his wife’s laugh. After a moment Charlotte looked up over her shoulder at the man still.