What She needed

Her: We missed last night’s schedule?
It wasn’t so much a question, rather a statement with an inflection that rose … and then hung.
It was thursday night, and we hadn’t fucked the previous night, as per our new schedule.
Me: Does it matter?
Her: I think so. Don’t you?
Me: I think a schedule feels weird but entirely necessary.
Her: We need it, so we don’t slip back into old habits.

Obviously She was right, but that didn’t make want to be part of this now.

Nonetheless, with my hands, I did what was required. Stroking, squeezing, kneading. tweaking. But yet again, when I ventured even an initial stroke along Her pussy, my progress was halted.
Her: It’s not the right thing just now.
Exasperation on my part.
I said something about Chasing Amy.
She didn’t get the reference.
I reminded Her of the movie scene we’d watched a week previously, and the characters discussion that sex doesn’t just have to be about fucking.
She made some response. A question, I think. But it wasn’t an answer.
My hand retreated from Her crotch and returned to other duties. Duties which my hands apparently performed adequately.
Her: We should get you a condom.

We were still holidaying in a rented cottage. Before we’d left home She’d seen me packing some jonnies in my washbag – that was now in the bathroom. I went to get one. I’d packed far more than I ever expected to need – our last Crown Skinless Skin (of the selection I’d bought more than 2 years ago, the only sheath I have since cum in) and two each of the Durex and Skyn rubbers. Not really being in the mood for sex with my Wife (sure, I would have been happy to just fuck, but I wasn’t in the mood to engage with the emotional baggage that goes along with Us fucking) I picked one of the Skyn packets. Back in the bedroom, before returning under the covers, I sat with my back to Her. In the dim light, I gave myself a brief, vigorous, and obvious wank, to get myself hard enough to roll the rubber on.

Foreplay continued, and then She climbed onboard. Although I still didn’t really want to fuck Her, it was politically the most expedient thing to do – the easiest way to avoid talking about our dysfunction: make Her cum, then roll over and go to sleep.
I made Her cum.
Her: Thank you.
Me: Was that what you needed?
Her: Yes. Do you need anything?
Me: No.
A few minutes later, She got up and went to the bathroom. I heard Her piss, before tearing off more sheets of toilet paper than necessary just for that. I imagined Her wiping up Her satisfied snatch. There was a bitterness in my head. Not that She’d had an orgasm and I hadn’t, nor any sense that I had been used for sex, more that She had forced the issue and was more than likely right to have done so.

When She returned to bed, She stayed distant. A hand ventured towards me, across the void of the super-kingsize bed, but it was not a gesture that showed we were together in that moment.

5 Responses to “What She needed”

  1. It is a struggle to watch you fo through this. I so remember the feeling of being used for sex, that’s probably what is getting to me so much reading this.
    Hugs CO

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