Unimaginable

The road that could lead back to my Wife and me fucking is unlikely to be smooth. It’s entirely possible there are parts or that road that have been so badly damaged that the route is impassable. One way or another We’ll find out. I guess.

I would have guessed more of the stumbling blocks would have been down to my Wife than me: I’m a horny sod at the best of times, so why wouldn’t I want to get back to fucking? Especially when the emotional connection that comes from fucking has proved to be such a huge loss for me over the years.

Yet it turns out there could be greater personal hurdles for me than I expected.

On the long walk that possibly triggered the first real hope of reparation, I told my Wife of how I had had to stop thinking about Her sexually. It was a conscious decision. When She had railed against feeling objectified by (arguably tasteful) lingerie, and regularly rejected my sexual advances, I came to believe it was my only choice. That She said She currently feels no sexual desire has done little to undermine the sense that there is scant merit in my having sexual thoughts about Her.

But if She does consider Us fucking as a viable destination, I presumably have to be able to think about Her in other than androgynous terms. I have to be able to think about fucking Her. And I have to be comfortable thinking about fucking Her.

Well, Dear Reader, it turns out I have a problem.
I can’t think about fucking Her.
Because I can’t think about my Her sexually.
I’ve tried to. I really have!
I just can’t do it.
I’ve tried repeatedly to think about Her while I’m wanking.
I’ve tried to imagine fucking Her, or wanking Her, or going down on Her [Ed: Quite why AM still clings on to the idea that he might ever get to taste his Wife’s orgasms is anathema!], or Her going down on me, or Her wanking me. Nothing adventurous or challenging. Entry level sex.

And I can’t do it.

I can think about sex acts. I can imagine a cock, and a cunt, and hands and tits and mouths … but they’re always depersonalised. If I try to transpose my Wife into my mental porn, it’s like someone presses pause on the VCR. And pulls the plug on my wanking hand. It all stops. And I struggle to restart it.

I’ve tried repeatedly. Both thinking about sex and then thinking about my Wife, or about my Wife and then trying to think about sex. Neither work. Still the same brain freeze-frame.

And then, this morning, an unimaginable horror …

Cock in one hand … porno-phone in the other … a lusty grin on my face … pre-cum on my fingers and the bed sheets … a three-fingered finger-bang on screen …

Oh how I miss those days. Several of my exes have revelled in the transition from me slipping a single finger in and out of their pussies, then pushing a second finger in with just the little force it required, before adding a third and having to thrust hard against their tightening pleasure. [Ed. For the record, AM has never fisted a partner – three fingers has always seemed to be the limit of their accommodation – but should he ever find himself with an eager partner, we can expect him to make a fist of it … if you’ll excuse the pun.]

I knew there was no hope of shoe-horning my Wife into this fantasy, so I just imagined myself sat in front of a partner … an unknown partner I might find online, on the far side of a potential divorce … and I imagined my fingers filling her cunt ..

Or I would have done.

It was truly unsettling to realise that I can’t imagine myself finger-banging a partner. Not even one who is not my Wife. The pause button seems to work on Me too.

Perhaps it was that the moment was gone, but when I just tried to imagine myself fucking … just fucking … fucking anyone … Fucking pause!

It seems that by desexualising my Wife, and desexualising Our relationship, I have taken myself out of the picture too. Somehow, in my head, sex seems to have become something that only other people share. Sure, I can get erections, wank, and cum, but I’m struggling to imagine that as anything but a solo act.

Ed’s footnote
If AM’s cum is ever to drip from his Wife’s quim again (and we’re sure, Dear Reader, you’re with us all here at AM Towers in sincerely hoping Their thighs will regularly be slick with each other’s sexual emmisions) it is apparent that there is at best a very, very long journey ahead of Them. And it is difficult to imagine They are going to be able to navigate that road without professional guidance. A number of sessions with Kirsty are surely going to be necessary, and not just joint sessions!

4 Responses to “Unimaginable”

  1. Sexuality is mostly mental and mentally you are in a fog. Once the sunshine returns, no doubt that all those feelings will again become crystal clear.

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