What to do next?

Anyone who follows my Tweets may have an inkling of where this post is going to go. Or at least where it is going to start. And never before have I been quite so aware of how much words on a screen cannot convey the essence of a post, devoid as they are of vocal inflection.

Yesterday went to a grown-up party. Not a kid’s party, and not a party with kids. Just adults. I think it is the first time in … oh, years, and the first time we have dressed up to go out in much, much longer. I was suited and booted, and my Wife wore a posh frock. And as She showed off Her sparkly shoes to our child, I noticed She was wearing tights (it was cold, after all) … or maybe they were pop-socks (is there any less sexy item of hosiery?) … or … surely not? Not stockings? That would require a suspenders belt. Like the one I bought Her last Xmas. The one that hasn’t even had the shop tags removed in the 11 months since. Surely not?

I confess I snuck a peek in Her underwear drawer. (I am not proud of myself when I do such things.) The bra was gone. As were the briefs. And without a comprehensive search, I could see no sign of the sussies. I was a little disappointed to see the thong and torsolette were still there, but hell, and it made me smile to know She was wearing three pieces, and presumably the stockings I had bought Her as well.

In my head, I rehearsed the conversation we would have later. My mind kept wanting me to say “Wow! Verrrrrrry nice! I didn’t think I’d ever actually get to see you in that.

I didn’t think I’d ever actually get to see you in that. Why that caveat? That sting in the tail? The little grumble that the suspender belt has lain unworn for so long? Why not just enjoy it? Why not just tell Her She looked fantastic and then fuck till we both dripped with sweat and juices? Just as well we’d not even left for the party and this conversation was only in my head.

Although She is not much of a drinker, I appointed myself designated driver for the evening, so She could have a glass of wine or two. Perhaps it would relax Her a little and help the mood. (Perhaps I over think these things!)

The party was pleasant and civilised. A propper grown up party. Some good conversation with friends. Lot’s of people dressed smartly, so plenty of cleavage for anyone choosing to enjoy the spectacle. And I did. (I am not proud of myself when I do such things.) But every time I caught a glimpse of my Wife from behind, I tried to make out the line of the suspenders’ straps over Her arse. When we stood close, I put a hand on Her shoulder, or waist, or lower … just to see if I my fingers could detect a hint of illusive lingerie. (When I make an effort to appreciate my Wife like this … you know what … actually I am quite proud of myself.) I might have been looking at other women’s tits, but it is my Wife’s that I want to fondle. It is Her arse I want to stroke. And it is Her cunt I want to taste. It is Her I want to fuck.

If She was aware of any of this, there was no indication.

The clock ticked round, and our carriage was starting to look like a pumpkin, so we left for home, glass slippers in hand.

As we headed for bed, I was struck by the fact that I didn’t know what to do next. I didn’t know if I should make the first move. Whether I was expected to. My Wife, after all, had not told me She was wearing sexy underwear, so why would I presume to know? Surely it was Her intent that I would find out. But without Her giving me a heads-up, did She mean to make some grand reveal?

A quick aside, if you will excuse me, Dear Reader:
To me, if you’re wearing lingerie, at least in part so your partner can enjoy you in it, there is nothing to gain from not letting them know. Stocking tops and lace are all about the tease – knowing what’s underneath, but not quite being able to see it all. So knowing that your partner is wearing it, accentuates that tease. Builds the anticipation. Makes it better.

I did not know what to do next. I was neither prepared for the situation, nor my emotions towards it.

We respectively dealt with our evening ablutions, and this saw me in bed before my Wife returned from the bathroom … still fully clothed.

I didn’t know what to do.

So I hid.

Not quite literally, but in anticipation of Her returning to our bedroom, I turned my back to the door (and Her side of the bed, and where She would stand to undress) and tried to go to sleep. (I am not proud of myself when I do such things.)
She undressed. I heard the unmistakable sound of suspenders being theatrically unhitched, and then being put away. I listened, with closed eyes, as She disrobed and got into bed. She leaned over, we had a perfunctory goodnight kiss, and both went to sleep.

I am under no illusion:
She made the effort,
and this was of my doing.

In the cold light of day, I found myself putting laundry away, and inevitably had to return to my Wife’s underwear drawer. And there, by way of confirmation of last night, sat on top of everything else, was the suspender belt. I picked it up and untangled it. It was not the style I had remembered. It was better than I had remembered. My Wife must have looked fucking amazing in it. And I’d hidden because I didn’t know what to do next.

The time was when I knew how to fuck. I knew how to seduce. I knew how to make love. I knew how to dominate (loosely speaking) or to act the slut. I knew how to touch my partner, and how to read her movements, her words, her breaths. The time was when I knew how to be intimate with someone. To tell them what I wanted, and ask the same of them. And with someone else I might still know how to do all this. But the sad truth is, with my Wife, I know little of it.

I do not know what to do next.

21 Responses to “What to do next?”

  1. Aw that is a shame, but you shouldn’t do anything imo. She could have been ‘just testing’ them out, to ease herself into the idea of wearing lingerie again. You said it yourself – you weren’t supposed to know she was wearing them. 9/10 times when you wear lingerie and feel comfortable wearing it, you want the other person to know. Maybe next time she’ll drop hints. Sounded like you’re making progress though! 🙂

  2. workspousestory Says:

    Oh sweetie… my heart is breaking for you. You need little steps, but you it would be great if you could let her know. Could you leave her a note saying that you think you know what she wore? That maybe you didn’t register that evening but it clicked in the morning and that it made you think of her all day the following day?

    • We don’t do leaving notes, I’m afraid. And we don’t really do I’ve been thinking about you all day: for some reason it’s counter productive. I think if I’m going to do anything I have to be up front about it.

    • workspousestory Says:

      We don’t do notes either, but if I got one I’d have loved that. Plus it doesn’t seem like your wife does suspender belts either, and yet…

    • A very good point, but as I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I didn’t entirely by the underwear just for Her. LOL

  3. Oh AM…I know about this kind of thing. When sex (or the lack-thereof) becomes so important it seems to leave us paralyzed somehow. I fear encounters now, not that there are very many anyway…I put so much fucking HOPE into them that I get the impression if there are not real, honest fireworks, I’ll just DIE. I’m being melodramatic but it is a tough situation to live in. The more our semi-abstinence continues, the more improbable that things could be light or playful. Does this make sense?

    I just want to say I’m thinking about you.


  4. Could this have worked for you to say : a gentle private whisper at the party, telling her you know she was wearing the present you bought her and that she must look amazing in it. Acknowledfing her attempt, and hopwfully at the same time, making you both think about getting home and undressing…? I do agree with what Dawn said. I understand the hesitancy after SO many failed attempts. It’s hard and my heart goes out to you for the strength it takes to keep trying AM. You are doing just that. Jayne

  5. goodoldgamera Says:

    I’ve been in similar situations, where it’s easier to maintain the status quo than to jump into something scarier and riskier. They say you regret 100% of the chances you don’t take, but that’s hindsight talking, isn’t it.
    What do you do? You kiss her as soon as you get home (or earlier!), you tell her that you had a great night with her, that she looked stunning, and that you’re proud to be her husband.
    If you want HER to show you her underwear, you have to entice her to do it I think…. Maybe you say that something about her seemed really sexy tonight and you can’t quite put your finger on it … or maybe you just tell her that you really want to see what she looks like out of that dress.
    I suspect that you already know this stuff though. This isn’t your first time around the block, after all.
    A passionate kiss, some loving words … and then see where it goes.
    But I suspect that you are afraid … afraid that these things won’t be enough, and that “where it goes” won’t be nearly far enough. You’re afraid that another part of you will die inside, will feel small and humiliated from the wasted effort.
    (Or maybe that’s just me?)
    But remember, you’re playing a long-term game here. There are no wasted moves. It all accumulates, right? So put as many ticks into the columns you want as you can … maybe they’re small ticks, but they still count.
    It helps me to make the choices that I want when I don’t focus on the importance of one momentous and immediate moment, but the long term, on building the future that I want one small moment at a time.
    Dunno if that’ll help you or not, but I hope you can find something that will. And hey — she wore the suspender belt! That’s a tick in the plus column for sure.

    • On this occasion it was not I who wanted Her to show me Her underwear, but rather She who wanted to show it to me. An uncommon role reversal … of sorts.
      There was no fear of failure on my part. Is no fear. (Her muted orgasm, and my lack thereof, may have been red herrings, in narrative terms.) This was an unusual reaction from me – usully what puts me off is the fact that our sex life is almost never easy. It is almost always hard work and it shouldn’t be that way. That is what (to use your phrase) makes it a chore. There is no variety. No spontinaity. No passion. No spark. Little apparent enthusiasm even. This is viscious circle we chase eachother round.
      I do not expect any part of me will die, nor will I ever feel humiliated or small. Far from it. 10 years of frustration have proved very Nietzsche-esqe, and I know very well how much I can withstand. (That may sound like macho denial, but I assure you it is anything but.)
      That said, in terms of one tick at a time, I think you make a good point there. Not an easy one to remember day in day out, but a worthwhile mantra nonetheless.
      And you’re right about a tick in the wore supspendes check box. If I fear anything form this, it is that She took one step forward, and my lack of reaction may yet prove to be two steps back.

  6. this is exactly my reasoning for not getting in a relationship
    in my life I fuck and enjoy fucking all the time…. I just tell someone…. im horny fuck me
    but if I get caught in a relationship I also become like her……
    it becomes such an issue that it is almost impossible to deal with…
    in an ideal world she should have whispered in your ear….. “honey im wearing the underwear you bought me” so you knew what the plan was
    but probably in her head she started to think, but what if I get home and all I wanna do is sleep….. that is what would happen with me
    and I would think he would be so upset I wound him up for nothing….. so said nothing
    then it became a moment of how to approach it….. then “OH forget it”
    i have been with a guy that I kept wanting to “want” sex with him but it became so awkward it just never happened

  7. Hi AM. My discomfort /embarrassment posting on the comments section is mine, rather than for you but here goes (anxiety attack coming on 🙂

    I have recently found your blog and my interest in your story with your wife has grown. But seeing that you have like 1000 posts, i have not even gone over a fourth of your posts I think. I have started reading posts tagged “fixing a broken marriage” (from the oldest post i could find) and am now at this post (What to Do Next). I have to stop reading. I can not, could not go any further. This post has moved me to tears that I do not understand.

    I am certain I will continue reading your blog soon as it is most engaging. But for now, I have this need to understand where you are coming from. ( Sorry, I am somewhat, but not clinically, OC). if it is inappropriate, I apologize. it is not my intention to pry or be nosy. if you ignore me, I understand and will continue to be a happy follower.

    In your previous posts, you have shown such experience with your past lovers, which tells me you know what you want and what clicks for you. Was your wife different when you met? Was she always conservative or uncomfortable with sex? If she was, did you think that was ok? Or that would change?

    In this instance, Why couldn’t you look at her? Why couldn’t you appreciate her effort at that very moment? You had been working up the whole underwear angle all night…

    “No spontinaity. No passion. No spark. Little apparent enthusiasm even” – But you are trying. And, so far (ok, i havent read everything yet, and this is a post from 2012) it seems, she is too. There must be something there?

    Definitely, there is something in this:
    “I might have been looking at other women’s tits, but it is my Wife’s that I want to fondle. It is Her arse I want to stroke. And it is Her cunt I want to taste. It is Her I want to fuck.” – You have found a way to use the words “cunt” and “fuck” to express love. That is amazing. And she is on the receiving end. I can not imagine any woman not wanting to hear that from the man they love (ok, maybe not the words cunt and fuck…but anything along those lines)

    I guess I just want to understand why this post would make me cry so much and be left feeling so unsettled. I also want to understand how you came to this situation. This is because I think you are lucky to have had so many previous (s)experiences that provided you with a point of reference.

    Am i even making sense? I must be rambling on. Sorry and thanks.

    • Your questions are more that welcome. (If I tend towards brevity in my answers that is merely down to time constraints.)

      To over simplify, whilst I have a sexual history (not particularly extensive, but enjoyably colourful), the same cannot really be said for my Wife.
      Sex used to be easier in our early years, but never remotely as easy for me with previous partners. (That’s not meant to be comparative, but rather contextual.) For years I thought it would get easier, but ultimately it just got harder.
      Why couldn’t I look at Her? It’s a long time ago now, but probably because of the anticipation of things turning sour. Beat a dog 10 times, and the next time you reach for a stick it will, at best, cower.
      The degree to which we “try” waxes and wains more often than the moon.
      In my experience, my Wife is unusual when it comes to being listed after. It does not seem to sit well with Her. I have theories on the origin if this, but they are complicated and controversial.

      Does that help with the understanding?

  8. Like a five year old asking the questions, each answer gives rise to another set of question. (I’m trying to figure out if I can relate more to you or to your wife) But for now, i shall content myself with getting updated to the top post. Hopefully I will find the answers somewhere there. If not, you will hear from me again 🙂 Thank you!

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