Escape and evasion

There was no sex on Valentine’s Day morning. My Wife was heading out early for Her belated birthday treat and I had weekend parent-taxi driver duties.
Fortune was smiling on us.

10hrs later, Her day had gone well. She’d enjoyed Herself. Mission accomplished. A good birthday present.

We settled down to a movie.
The opening scene was sexy. Not explicit, but sexy, and I certainly mustered a semi. And there was plenty of sex throughout the rest of the film: vanilla sex, blow-jobs, masturbation, cross dressing, threesomes, spit-roasting erotic asphyxiation, porn, prostitutes, betrayal, murder, drug abuse, alcoholism, self loathing, violence, and ultimately sucide. It was not a cheerful tale. Not one you would necessarily expect to come away from wanting a shag.

We watched something lighter before going to bed.

Unusually for recent times, we went upstairs at the same time, undressed stood next to eachother, and pulled the duvet over ourselves with mere seconds apart.
I turned my back and aimed for sleep.
It felt like She was lying closer that usual.
It felt claustrophobic.
I felt like I wanted to lie further away.

We slept.

In the morning, She went to the bathroom. I looked at the clock. It was late enough to not go back to sleep, yet early enough to not get up. Our usual time for sex, if there can be such a thing when you can count the weeks, or even days, of any given year you’ve had sex on one hand.

When She came back to bed, as expected, She reached a hand out. Unusually She touched my hair. I didn’t respond. A minute or so later Her hand moved to my shoulder and I continued to fain sleep.

A few days ago I found myself musing on why I make no efforts to hide my erections from my Wife, and increasing little to hide my wanking from Her, whilst avoiding sexual contact with Her. It is, I think, a conflict between mind and body, or at least physical and emotional sides of my psyche. I want sex, yearn for it, ache even, almost constantly, yet with the irregularity we suffer I find it tortuous to deal with the emotions that come from abstinence and Her apparent disinterest in sex … and possibly more importantly, my need for sex.

I contemplated telling Her this when I eventually rolled onto my back 10min later, though it did not alert Her to my consciousness. She had gone back to sleep. I got out of bed, cock swollen and alert, and went downstairs to the safety of breakfast alone.

12 Responses to “Escape and evasion”

  1. I’m sorry your sex life is a mess. Seems I got more action on the dance floor in one night than you got since the beginning of the year… 😦

  2. oh, that is unfortunate….

  3. I don’t want to like this. I want to shake her, but that seems unfair to say. You need TLC for sure

    • Maybe I need TLC. But maybe She needs something fundamental that She’s not getting from me. Maybe She’s got all She wants, and more (for want of a better word) would be too much. I’m sure I could deconstruct my psyche without the need for a shrink and tell you why my sexuality is how it is; devine the origin of it’s dominance over my thought processes. But I can’t do that for Her, and as She is my Wife, there is a degree to which I must give Her the benefit of doubt. Maybe it is She that needs TLC and me that you should shake.

    • Spoken like a man committed to the woman he married. I said it was unfair to shake her for the reasons you mentioned. I don’t know her side of it so I’m tempted to judge her accordingly. Regardless, care for you is still important so I stand by my comment of you needing tlc. You can’t give if your tank remains empty. Martyr you may be, but it’s a known fact they give until they die without replenishment.

    • A martyr, maybe, but windmills and giants are not always so different.

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