Eating Creampie

How did I get started in swinging? How did my husband “talk me into such eating creampie?” That is a story that he loves to tell on me. I wish that he wouldn’t do that, it’s so embarrassing. Of course, now, after all this time and what we have done together it is not what it once was.

My husband, I’ll call him Ron, had a lot of help getting me this far. Had it not been for the help, I would never have agreed to any of that eating creampie. How does the old poem go? “Listen my children and you shall hear, of the midnight ride” of Sandy.

All of this eating creampie started summer before last when my oldest graduated from High School and left home. I thought that I was ready for him to cut my strings. I was wrong. It hurt me deeply. I was left feeling old, an old woman watching her children leave, I was depressed. I talked, or tried to, Ron about it. He was delighted at our sons leaving. “One down, two to go” he had said. I was crushed, what a mean thing to say. I said no more.

But I found it increasingly hard to cope with as the summer wore on. Each day a burden made only heavier as our middle son talked more and more about his drivers license and when he would be old enough to get his own apartment or, worse yet, join the military. I couldn’t talk to my husband and all of my friends at work told me that I was being silly and would get over it. All but “John,” a male nurse that I worked with. He seemed to be truly interested in what I was feeling. We couldn’t talk at work, if someone saw us talking, well, people talk you know. So we met for dinner after work one evening. John was so sensitive to my feelings, so concerned with how low I was. I felt all used up, alone. I also felt that my husband no longer desired me. It had been months since we had last made love or eating creampie. Was it over, was I an “old woman?” John assured me that I wasn’t. He even said that he had always found me to be a very attractive and eating creampie desirable woman.