Not what I want

I lifted my head from the pillow to see the clock. An hour to myself in the kitchen if I made a break for it then. But She moved first and headed for the bathroom.
Damn it.
I could still make my escape and leave an empty bed for Her, but …
I rolled onto my front and buried my face in the pillow.
When She returned, She put a hand on my back and stroked with Her thumb.
Damn it.
Yes, I was horny. But no, I didn’t want sex. Not with Her. Not now. Yes, it gets like that sometimes. Often.

Her hand made a more concerted effort, moving to my arse. I rolled over. A concession?
She stroked my thighs. My chest.
I didn’t join in. I didn’t want to. I wanted Her to stop.
Her palm grazed past my flaccid cock. And again. And again, more deliberately. Neither it nor I responded.
She ran Her fingers up my thighs and around my balls.
The flesh proved a little more willing, but the spirit was still weak. Too weak for the complications of our sex.
As my manhood succumbed and swelled to Her touch, I put an arm around Her.
I stroked Her back unenthusiastically. She persisted.
I rolled into Her and we wrapped ourselves together.
She wasn’t giving up.

Dear Female Reader.
Remember when you were a teenager and started to experiment with heavy petting? When a testosterone driven boy would push his hand down between your thighs to grope at your pussy with just a little more eagerness than you were comfortable with? When the thing you desperately wanted  was for him to stop. To read the signals that you  thought clearly said you weren’t in the mood? To get the message?
That was exactly what this was like.
Her hand forced its way between us, towards my dick, now contentedly limp once more, and took hold of it, massaging it back to unwilling rigidity.
I pretty much stopped stroking Her back. But She was far more eager than She ever usually is, as She ground Her mound repeatedly against my hip.

Her : It’s not there is it.
Me : I’m struggling with the irregularity.
Her : Sorry.
Me : Three times in 36hrs, and then nothing for two weeks.
Her : … … …
Me : It’s not like I haven’t tried in the meantime.
Her : … … …

After a pause She said how She is so often exhausted after work, and what with us both having mismatched sleep patterns, me getting up at silly-o’clock so often, etc etc etc, it’s hard to find the opportunity.
It’s not nearly as hard as She thinks, but I bit my tongue.

Her : Better two weeks than two months.
Me : … … …
Her : I know that’s not as often and you’d like.
Me : … … …
Her : If we try when we can, it’d be easier to get into the habit.
She was right of course, if only it were so easy.

I stroked Her back.
She stoked my arse.

Her : You’re very sexy.
Her : And I’d like to fuck you.
Like. Like? She’d LIKE to fuck me?
“I’d like to open a savings account with your bank please.”
“Would you like some Parmesan on your pizza?”
“I’d like to get the laundry on before we leave.”
She’s LIKE to fuck me?
I guess at least She’d LIKE to FUCK me.

We fumbled. We groped. We stroked. We both got aroused.
I eventually made a move towards Her quim. She kind of made it a bit easier.
I moved away, just in case, and then back. She definitely made it easier.
She rolled onto Her back and parted Her legs a little. An invitation?
With and arm around Her shoulders, that hand caressing Her tit, I ran the other South, my palm cautiously passing over Her bush. She didn’t object.
I stroked Her thigh with my finger tips, occasionally pressing gently against Her mound with the heel of my hand. She wriggled a bit, but didn’t try to disengage.
My fingers nervously curled up, and I felt the velvet folds of Her lips. I could feel the tension She was fighting.

I backed off, and pulled my arm from around Her. I moved on top of Her.
Her : Hang on a minute. I need to adjust.
I waited, but She didn’t move. Perhaps it was Her head that She felt the need to adjust.
I rolled off and cuddled up to Her.

Her : Sometimes I think I cum to fast when you touch me
Me : What’s wrong with that?
Her : Because then I don’t get to enjoy it.
I froze. Mentally and physically. Sexually.
She doesn’t get to enjoy it? What? Cumming?! Doesn’t get to enjoy Her orgasm if it’s with a hand not a dick? A fucked orgasm is good but a masturbated orgasm is bad?
Dear Reader, I’m out of my depth here. A long way out. So far out of my depth, I’m not sure there is a sounding line long enough to reach the bottom.

Her : I guess how you’re feeling.
I guessed Her guess was that I was feeling frustrated. I wasn’t.
Me : ConfusedA void of understanding.

She tried to explain. She likes to be touched, stroked, caressed, but She likes things to build, slowly, to be sensual. She likes us to cum together. To be touched around Her pussy.<pause><rewind>.yssup reH dnuora dehc …b  …T …t …c. …S …b …<stop><play> I stroked Her thigh with my finger tips, occasionally pressing gently against Her mound with the heel of my hand. <stop> Sorry Dear Reader, I just wanted to check what I’d been doing only a couple of minutes previously. Her explanation seems not entirely consistent with the empirical evidence, but what the hell do I know.
Her : It’s not a criticism of you. It’s just how my body works.
Me : … … …
Her : I think that’s different to your experience.
Me : … … …
Her : Can we cum together?
Me : … … …

The alarm-clock radio switched on. The News.
I reached over and switched it off.

Her : Don’t give up on us
Me : … again!
Her : That’s what I meant.
Her : If you can think of anything that would help …?
Me : I wouldn’t know where to start.

Her : I’d better get up

Yes, I was horny. But no, I didn’t want sex. Not with her. Not now. Not until I can at least grasp something of who She is, how She works, what to do.
Yes I get horny. But no, I don’t want sex. Not with Her. Not yet. I want to understand.

27 Responses to “Not what I want”

  1. it will be good, but usually rare for both sides to cum at the same time, will be good if the female cums fast and then it will be easier and faster for her to cum the 2nd time !

  2. I know you know that, but the only way around it is to talk about it, about how you both feel, what frustrates you, her and so on. Since you don’t seem t be able to do it between you, I think a sexual counselor is what you need!

    • I know that also. And it has been mentioned more than once. But the opportunity ans inclination fir that seems even more illusive.

    • :-/
      You cannot make her change her ways. It has to come for her. The question is how long are you willing to wait. Can you imagine yourself living like this until the end of your life? What I mean is: can you live like this and still find happiness? Are you sure that you won’t resent her in the end?
      There is no right or wrong answer to those questions, only a personal choice. But you have to be clear of the choice you’re making and decide to be happy no matter which choice it is. It would be too sad to have regrets, many many years from now I hope, on your death bed. 🙂

    • Choice is a gamble for all but gods. And regrets are a necessary consequence of awareness.

    • I don’t think regrets are a consequence of anything other than deciding to live in the past.
      Which is why I said that you need to think hard whether you would still manage to be happy even if your life continued as is. Because that choice, to be happy no matter how frustrating your sex life with you wife is, is yours to make and only yours.
      Hugs XO

  3. I’m frustrated by her… nitpicking. She seems to be reaching for an ideal, or not at all. I think I need to read a bit deeper into your blog before I go making off the cuff remarks like that though.

    I’ve enjoyed what I’ve read thus far though… I like your… voice/style of writing.


  4. I think it sounds like you are both desperately trying to connect, but don’t know how. I feel for you both, but I identify most with your wife. Try to put your own feelings aside for a moment and really listen to what she is trying to say. She is telling you precisely what she wants and you are tearing it apart instead of using the information she is giving you. I say that without judgment and from a place of compassion because it sounds like you and your wife are where my husband and I were not too long ago. It was a fucking quagmire we could never have survived without therapy. Just know that there is hope. Xx

    • Marriage counselling, we’ve done. I tried to raise the issue of sex, but neither the counsellor nor my Wife picked up the batton, and with hindsight, i don’t think we liked each other enough at the time to safely dive into that quagmire. (Good word, by the way!)
      As I’ve said to others who’ve suggested sex therapy, I’m definitely up for it, but that may not be so easy to achieve, unless She can a) overcome Her inhibitions about talking to a stranger about sex, and b) find the time in Her diary. Neither are simple matters.

    • I’m sorry, AM. Why is she against it? The discussion doesnt need to start with sex. I understand her needing to work her way up to it. A good therapist will also understand this. Do you have children?

    • Yes, we are parents. But the situation was only nominally different before.
      Why is She against sex therapy? Because She’s not comfortable talking to strangers about sex.

    • Sigh…this hurts my heart.

    • LOL. Trying to work it out hurts my head!
      (See? Sometimes i can smile about it … with my Dear Readers’ help.)

    • Our therapist is a marriage and family therapist who specializes in sex therapy. Like I said, it doesn’t have to be about the sex at first. I’m sure there is so much underlying the sexual issues that those would have to be tackled first anyway. Would she be open to individual therapy?

    • Like I said, we spent time seeing a marriage guidance counsellor (who also advertised sex therapy) but we never talked about sex. I tried to raise the issue a couple of times. (I can’t easily dig out links to the relevant blog posts as I’m on my phone right now, but they’re there if you’re interested.) I genuinly doubt She’d be any happier talking to a stranger about sex if I wasnt there, and it’s kind of tough to say Honey, you really need to talk to someone about your sexuality without making it sound like I’m telling Her She’s broken.

    • Then I send you a big hug for your frustrations and I hope that some day it all works out as it was meant to.

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