Edie has it all, including the world’s most perfect husband. The only flaw in his otherwise perfect character is that he doesn’t have that command presence, that hint of the bad boy that every woman needs no matter how much she denies it. The need varies from woman to woman, but Dylan’s total lack has denied her much of the pleasure her sex life should have been filled with. Everything changes when she finally hears the words she has longed for. “Surrender to me…”
Edie Foster loved her husband. He was solid, dependable, handsome as hell with his muscular good looks and his lean, hard body…but he was so easygoing and even tempered that sometimes he was, well, just too good for her. She loved the feel of his smooth skin against hers, the feel of his perfect lips as he kissed her lips and breasts. The feel of his long thick cock never failed to make her cum. As soon as she told him to stop doing whatever he was doing and fuck her, he always complied immediately. And therein lay the problem.
When she regarded her private feelings about her relationship, she felt like a true fool. When she confided inCeleste, her very closest friend in all the world, she had been chided and laughed at. “What are you Edie? Are you nuts? You have the most perfect and beautiful man in the world, a guy who will do anything to make you happy, and you’re unhappy with him?” There was no help from her best friend. Or her mother.
After years of hiding her admittedly minor problem with her husband, Edie decided to accept the fact that she was a fortunate woman and let it go at that. She could indulge her fantasies through books and movies and the internet, masturbating in private when Dylan was not at home. She didn’t notice, but Dylan did, that her performance and enjoyment in their marriage bed, seemed to fall off a bit and their sex became lackluster. He tried everything he knew to satisfy her, but nothing seemed to get her fired up. The sex was still good, but it was flat, and to Dylan, unsatisfying.
As with most people whose problems are not crises or decisions concerning life or death, this minor problem began to loom large in Dylan’s mind. Soon he was stopping off for a single beer at a local watering hole every night. It was at the watering hole that Celeste found him one evening, staring morosely at his beer. She hugged him, as she always did the husband of her best friend, and asked him what was wrong. His noncommittal answer told her that there was something seriously bothering him, and she immediately sat down and asked him to order her a drink. It took some probing, and the consumption of two Bushmill’s martinis (a peculiarity of his that she had learned over the years) before she pried the answer out of him. He had no more than uttered the first words of his problem before she recognized the problem and started formulating a solution. She let him keep talking until he was finished, because she had worked so hard to get him to open up. When he was through, she reached into her purse and pulled out a small pocket sized notebook that she kept for making notes or lists. She scribbled out the name of a popular book and its author and pushed it towards him.
“Dylan, go and buy this book tomorrow and read it. Do not take it home and do not let Edie see it. This is very important honey, I mean it. If you read this book you will understand some things about Edie that you’ve never known. I won’t violate a confidence by blabbing to you, but take my word for it, this book will solve your problems!” Dylan stared at her for a long moment, and then he got up and made his way home. He was skeptical that any book would contain an answer t his real problems, but he was getting desperate.
He bought the book the next morning, and then locked himself in his office and began to read. After the first hour he slammed the book down in a drawer and closed it. “Bullshit!” He muttered. At lunch, he called Celeste. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” he said.
“Dylan,” Celeste said, “You’ve known me for years and you know that I love Edie like a sister. Would I do anything to hurt her.” The silence on the other end of the line gave her the answer she needed. “Read the book Dylan.” She hung up.