Too tired to play this game

NB If you’re keeping up with me, Dear Reader, you’ll know I’ve published a few post recently about the entirely unsatisfactory sex life My Wife and I have shared in recent months. Although they have been only appeared in the last few weeks, they were penned over the last 6 months. As you’ll know, they were resurrected as a build up to certain information, and that, at last, is contained herein.
This post has also been awaitig up loading for some time, but it does, nearly, bring us to date.

It was the night before a significant anniversary for my Wife and me: the date we moved in together. Earlier in the day there had been some mention of the date and the fact that my Wife had other commitments after work the next day – the actual day of our anniversary – so we wouldn’t really have an opportunity to celebrate. The discussion was indeterminate.

At this point I should bring you up to speed on a significant detail.
I’ve given up on sex.

Strictly speaking, for the foreseeable future, I’ve given up on sex with someone else. I’m still jerking off, so I’ve not given up on sex completely, but having sex with my Wife has become more stressful than not having sex with my Wife and not caring about sex with my Wife is least stressful option. And I am not sufficiently motivated (or funded) to hire an escort. So I have resolved to close the door.
(I could discuss this at greater length, and I suspect there will be sufficient interst in my decision amongst my Dearest Readers to merit such a post, but this is not something that sits easily with me, and I don’t really have the energy to dissect my rationale further.)
Now back to the story.

We’d been occupying opposite ends of the sofa, as usual, watching some innocuous Dreamworks animated film we recorded months ago, and I fell asleep. It was only something like 9:30pm, but it had been a long day. Indeed, a long week. I woke to find my Wife, having left the sofa whilst I slumbered, had returned. She said something like I’m sure we can find something better to do than watch this, the night before our anniversary, and took off Her sweater.

No prizes for guessing what she was wearing underneath. (Well, no prizes for anyone who’s been reading my blog from Day One.)

The now infamous red torsolette.


She stepped towards me, slumped as I was on the couch, and straddled me. There was no doubt at all that She wanted to fuck.

And here I must interject with a semantic, yet important quesiton:
Does She want to fuck, or does She want us to fuck?

I suspect it is the latter. But that is not for discussion now.

I think I snorted a little laugh and dropped my head. But not as you might expect, in order to enjoy Her tits, as they were presented to me, but out of weariness. Her amorous advance continued, but I sighed deeply, and just gave Her a hug, leaving Her in little doubt that I was not inclined to muster the energy for sex. She got the message, dismounted and snuggled up next to me. I fell asleep again, at least twice before the film had run it’s course.

Then we went to bed.

I still didn’t want to fuck Her. It went though my head, I even got a semi at the prospect, but then I remembered just how little I have enjoyed sex with my Wife of late. I say of late, but we’ve not fucked in months. Again. But when we last did, back in January or February, or when ever it was, it was all just getting too much like hard work, emotionally.

When I came out of the bathroom and went into the bedroom, She was just wearing the torsolette and thong, which I still so want Her to enjoy wearing. She said I know you’d enjoy it if you were awake, and I shrugged, gave Her a hug, and went to bed. For once, I didn’t bury myself under the duvet with my back to Her; instead I waited for Her to come back from the bathroom facing towards the middle of the bed. But when She returned there was no snuggling up, no cuddle, barely a kiss. And I suspect for entirely different reasons, in that moment, neither of us wanted any more than that.

8 Responses to “Too tired to play this game”

  1. I wish I could give you a hug, or a few stiff drinks – whichever you want, Hugs to you, AM, Jayne

  2. would offer you a stiff drink but I don’t think you want to be where I am right now so it will have to be a virtual one 🙂

  3. Oh, AM, big, big hugs to you. Your story breaks my heart, you know. I hope it gets better! I hate that you’ve given up 😦

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