An Update Amidst The Drought

After not blogging for so long, it’s kind of difficult to get back into it, especially for one like this, that has a sort of narrative theme. It would seem that I have some catching up to do.

After the last encounter, Arwyn made good on the date night the next week despite the fact that she was tired, and truth be known, so was I. So afterward, we were lolling around in bed and she asked if we could move our date nights to Friday nights. That reflected my thoughts exactly, so it was easily agreed upon. This meant waiting an extra few days for the next date night, but I was okay with that. I’ve had to wait a lot longer than 10 days before, it’s not a huge deal.

This did come up during our joint therapy appointment, and the therapist was very keen on the idea of scheduled date nights. We also discussed the fact that I was entering into my busiest and most difficult time of the year, much akin to 2Amsomewhere’s Death March where I work crazily long hours and fall under a considerable amount of stress. The therapist brought up the idea that it was during such times of stress where physical intimacy might be even more important to keep the connection alive. That thought resonated with me. With Arwyn? Not so much.

Thursday came, and Arwyn had a doctor’s appointment to get her hands looked at, as they were bothering her from carpel tunnel syndrome. A shot of cortisone in each wrist and a few hours later, she was in such bad pain she could not move either hand without being in serious pain. The boys and I had to feed her, which was good for a laugh and did lift her spirits quite a bit. The fact that date night would be a wash was a foregone conclusion, and I knew she couldn’t help it, so no big deal. But she really made no special effort to offer a rain check, either. And she felt well enough to do some extensive shopping on Saturday, blowing a small fortune, but not enough to push my cart, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. Still, she complained of minor pain so I didn’t make a huge deal about it.

But as time wore on, it became more of a huge deal, but I had no time to talk about it because I have been so busy trudging through the trenches. Another week goes by and Friday night comes. This time we were out late at the kids’ baseball game and both tired. She at least apologized for that and then went to do other stuff so I could watch Battlestar Galactica. Thank goodness for decent TV! And then today she was complaining of all the stuff she had to do, and there was a very, very noticeable lack of enthusiasm and urgency in getting the kids to bed. I helped move them along but she was so not involved. I guess the whole Mother’s day clause has kicked in already. I plan on either cooking something good for her or going out to eat. Going out to eat on Mother’s day involves a huge hassle factor as everyone…and their mother…are eating out.

So I figure if I’m not having sex for several weeks it’s worth blogging about!

Our therapist was sick last week so that appointment was canceled. If I wasn’t going to bring it up last week, it will certainly be a topic for this next week. No we haven’t hashed it out, and that has been costly but I’ve been extraordinarily busy. In all fairness, she’s feeling a considerable amount of her own stress, too and I have not been very available in any sense of the word to support her very much. There hasn’t been much intimacy at all and I feel I need to deal with my stresses on my own as she’s not willing or able to be available.

Perhaps a gardening update will be more optimistic:

I’ve had fresh lettuce and asparagus for the past month, and it has been mighty nice. The radishes didn’t amount to much. While parts of Georgia has enjoyed some regular rain, my part has not. I emptied my rain barrel last weekend in anticipation of it being refilled the next day. That rain never happened. We did get a brief shower of a couple tenths on Wedensday, but the anticipated rain of today totally blew by or around us. We’re going to be dry again this year and I’m going to need another rain barrel or two or three.

My garlic is ready to dig up and I think the elephant garlic should be ready. I’ve never planted the elephant variety before, but it must be ready as it is shooting up flower stalks. They look a bit weird so I might let a couple of them bloom just to see what their flower looks like. The tops aren’t dying back like the other variety, so I’m not sure when theyare supposed to be ready short of pulling them up.

Pole beans are coming along as well as some sugar snap peas. The beets didn’t make it and I’m not sure if the bush beans will. Casualties of our fickle weather. Tomatoes look good as they always get the most of whatever water I have. Blueberries look real good, as they should since they had the year off last year. Peaches don’t look good at all, but the almond tree is loaded. Those can double as peaches in a real pinch, and they’ll probably have to this year again. One apple tree totally did not make it, another looks sick and the third looks like it might be okay but we have never done overly well with apples here. And the plums have never produced anything. I think I’ll be using the prolific branches to build supports for my other stuff. If they happen to get whatever blight is going after my apple trees, I would feel bad about cutting them down.

The blackberries look good, as they always seem to do well, even during last year’s drought. They aren’t the stars that the blueberries are, but they certainly are dependable. Keeping the weeds down while giving them space to run a bit is the biggest challenge. and the garlic chives do what garlic chives do best; grow like crazy! I need to find more uses for them.

D.

Talk Night

Yesterday, Arwyn had her next individual session. She had done some work on the ENQ and shared it with the therapist, but didn’t quite finish it completely so brought it home to do more work on it. We had designated last night as a sort of “talk night” where we would talk. Much of this was thwarted by the appearance of an HBO special on autism, which we watched. It was interesting, but really dug into our time as it was two hours long!

When it was finally over, she was ready to talk. Her opener was to suggest that she review her ENQ with me. I was a bit ambivalent about that, since I didn’t have my own copy on hand and thought it might be something we did together in therapy. But she was somewhat insistent and got her paper and read her comments that she had written. I listened as she read the entire thing before making any comments.

1. Affection: she described her need for affection as being moderate and that she liked and need nonsexual affection on a regular basis. I can’t remember how often she said she needed that, but it seemed higher than what she was offering.
2. Sexual fulfillment: She described her need for this as being moderate and that she would like sexual fulfillment once per week. This was kind of a stunner, because she has not been giving any indications of that at all. When I mentioned that, she emphasized fulfillment and that without that, she more less figured “What’s the use?” I told her that while it was possible to have sex without fulfillment, it was not possible to have sexual fulfillment without actually having sex.

3. Conversation: she mentioned that she had a high need for conversation. No surprises there, but again she hasn’t been offering as much as she seemed to be wanting. We do have differing conversation styles, which do sort of interfere with god conversation as I have in the past been known to be a bit argumentative. She did mention that I had gotten better about that in the past few months.

4. Recreational companionship: she said she had a high need for recreational companionship, and wanted us to do more things as a family. No surprise there, as I’m prone to wanting to veg out when I’m not working. However, this is another area that we’ve making some improvement in past months.

5. Honesty and openness: she said she had a moderate for honesty and openness, but admitted that she hasn’t always been so good about this herself, specifically mentioning her handling of our credit card crisis. Again, we could point to improvements in this area in past months.

6. Attractive spouse: She described her need for an attractive spouse to be moderate. She described her past partner/dates as being tall, thin, and neat. I later described them as being somewhat metrosexual sounding, which she didn’t appreciate too much. But my weight loss has helped my score in that area. But I’ve still got quite a lot of the farm boy in me, and I work outside and get dirty and do so without making a big deal about it and am not particularly fazed by it as much as she would like. Oh well. She did specifically mention my farm background being a factor against her suburban semi-sterile lifestyle as being a factor in this, so I got the impression that she was willing to make allowances here.

7. Financial support: she said she was satisfied with this, although she did say that was not always the case, which led to the credit card crisis. But she does feel her needs are being met.

8. Domestic support: I thought I was going to get it here, but she did not harp on that very much. She mentioned that we did sort of have an agreement about this early in our marriage that she would clean if I cooked and was okay with that arrangement. She talked a bit about the clutter that gets out of control at times on her own end. Her own mother was somewhat compulsive about keeping a clean house, and she tried for awhile to hold that standard but decided she was driving herself crazy trying to do that and I agreed that it was not worth all the stress that standard caused.

9. Family commitment: she had a high need for family commitment (no surprise) and admitted that things had gotten better here, but she did want more in this area. The fact that I was with the boys while she did her church meetings and step studies did score points here.

10. Admiration: she had a high need for affirming words, and this was probably a big weakness for me where I need to work harder. I can be overly critical and stingy with affirming words, so this is an area that I definitely have room to grow. While there have been some improvements, I know I need to do better.

After a discussion of the ENQ, we talked a bit more and then got into some hugging and kissing. It was getting late, thanks to the whole HBO special, but she seemed game. We really needed to get over this next hurdle, and so we worked on it. She shut the bedroom door and we both got naked. She kneeled up in bed, waiting for me to lay down so she could get on top of me but I was not having that. I wanted it to be different than the standard script. So I sat up and she got up in my lap, facing me and we just hugged and kissed like that for awhile. Not a lot of genital contact there, but that was not the idea here. T was intimacy and connection, and we seemed to have that. It was just two naked bodies connecting and it was very nice. She did comment after awhile that her knees were getting sore so I laid down and she got on top. There was some grinding around and she mentioned that all the antihistamines were probably making her dry, which has been another chronic problem. But I don’t see her going for any real solutions to that, such as lube of any sort, but we’ll see.

She was grinding around on me and I was getting over heated and holding an erection was challenging. Much of it as just psychological pressure (and a hideous lack of practice) but it was also that this position was a bit too submissive to maintain for the whole time. I told her this, so she let me mount her from the missionary position, and this did work a lot better for me as I was able to get inside of her, with a bit of work.

Love-making/sex has always been a pretty silent/solitary/serious type of thing for us, but we did talk a lot more this time, the two of us. I really did like that, as it did change the dynamic and made the experience a more intimate one for us. I don’t think she had an orgasm, but she did say it felt pretty good because she could better feel me inside of her. She thought it might be because she had tightened up since we hadn’t had sex for so long. I didn’t comment a lot on that, but was thinking that we never did have sex all that much to stretch her out. She tried squeezing and asked if I felt she was tighter and I said that I honestly really had no memory of that, but it did feel good.

No money shot in this scene. Sorry!

Afterwards, we did cuddle and talk a bit more, but it was getting late. She went to the bathroom and took a quick shower and I slept the best I had in months. If we could get more practice, I can see there being a lot less pressure and tension and maybe more fun. As it was, it was a good experience, which is more than I can say for other encounters I’ve had with her and she would likely say the same.

Of course, it will take more practice. I went through this whole script last year, too, where we thought we were starting a whole new beginning. We do have some advantages this time around that we didn’t last time, but it is going to still require a lot of focused effort. Maybe this is where the counseling effort can kick in, as it at least looks like we are getting some where with it. It might be akin to Dumbo’s magic feather.

Thanks to all who commented on the last post. I especially appreciate the women who stepped up, having had similar-type experiences. Yeah, Hazel, I did think a lot of you. That’s why you always made my blogroll, because I figured your views were the closest to my wife’s! To be honest, I nearly disabled comments there, because I knew I was blowing off a lot of steam, which is what I do here. I’m going to talk about all sorts of vile things, like separation and divorce because writing allows me to process my thoughts and experiences. It’s a far cry from actually doing it, tho. How long did I contemplate counseling before actually doing it? There’s no rush to do anything, here, but I’m also not going to skulk around, and hide. I want to square off on the issues, not retreat. Not talking honestly about it in my own online forum would be silly and just an exercise in self-avoidance. And I’m tired of being an avoider.

D.

Inching Forward

After our talk on Wednesday night, it was all I could do to hold to the progress we’ve already made.  I suspected that there might be a rebound effect as I began looking for the sex to happen.  (Thanks Emily for suggesting I NOT think about it thus ensuring that I think about it more!;-)  But we’ve been so long without it, getting started again would be difficult especially since Arwyn and I had resolved not to have bad sex.  To answer one question on FTN’s little meme, I’m at a point where no sex is better than bad sex, but I would qualify that with the idea that if Arwyn is really trying I would really try, too. 

 

So the last few nights have been tense for me, as I held on and tried to respect the boundaries.  But I did push them a bit.  We’ve spent some time, especially in the mornings holding each other, kissing and generally being affectionate.

 

This morning we were hugging and kissing when Arwyn said, “I need to use the bathroom.”  This usually means that’s it.  And sure enough she did turn on the shower, but she also returned for more hugging and kissing.  That was new.  Then she said she needed to take a shower.  I decided to just see where we were.

 

“Want some company?”

 

She could have declined and I would have been okay with that.  But she shut our door and said “Okay!”  So in we went. 

 

This was slightly erotic but it was more intimate than anything.  She didn’t venture much below my waist but did allow my hand to go there a bit when I was my turn to soap her up.  There’s nothing quite like two soapy bodies in a hot, steamy shower.

 

I could tell Arwyn was really giving it a go to hold on to herself as my hands traveled around her body.  She really did a good job at keeping her own defensiveness in check and I didn’t get overly aggressive with things.  It was just a good way for each of us to get re-acquainted with the other’s naked body and it was a significant developmental step.

 

For my part, I stayed in my “human mind” rather than descending into my reptilian self.  What that means in a practical sense was that I didn’t ever get a real erection.  I had my own anxieties to manage and that took a lot of mental effort.  Arwyn spent zero time stimulating me, so I suppose that made things easier or softer depending on how you look at it. It was just a very nice time washing each other and hugging and kissing and being close to each other while tending to one another.  To me, this is a big part of what intimacy really and truly looks like.  It is tending to each other with gentleness and generosity while allowing ourselves to be tended to. 

 

A big obstacle to intimacy is shame.  It started all the way back in the garden of Eden when Adam and Eve discovered they were naked.  It was the first manifestation of their sin, which drove them into hiding.  We’ve been dealing with shame ever since then and it always looms large casting a long shadow over our attempts to be intimacy.   Whether it’s our hearts, spirits or bodies there is something scary about nakedness.  This shame has been cultivated and nurtured over the centuries and millennia often by religion in order to better manage the people.  Modesty is one thing, but shame is quite another.  Marriage is the one place where we can really work on overcoming our shame.

 

Like most women, Arwyn has body issues.  It’s difficult for us to be naked for any length of time without her pointing out her flaws.  I don’t say much but just let her talk as I’m unsure whether there is anything I can do or say to reassure her.  In the end, it’s up to her to accept her own body.

 

Still, I think I do need to talk with her to let her know that when I look at her, I am not judging or assessing her at all.  I’m appreciating her.  I simply don’t see the flaws as flaws.  I see her as her; my wife.  Her shame keeps her from enjoying her body and keeps her from allowing me to enjoy her.  Actually, I’m at a point where I can enjoy her for her and that includes any extra pounds or marks or whatever.  I want to embrace whatever she brings with her.

 

D.

 

 

   

 

189.8

I haven’t updated my weight in awhile, so I think I’ll do that for a minute. My weight loss efforts actually do figure into things. This morning I was at 189.8 which is about 3 pounds off from my eventual target. Over the holidays, I maxed out at about 196 but fluctuated between there and 192, which my body seems to like. I work on the elliptical and the step mat but not every day or even every other day. Maybe I get 2-3 times a week if I’m lucky simply because demands at work have been quite heavy the past couple of weeks. I did manage to download Stepmania 4.0 CSV which is a very nice looking release and I like many of the new display features. But it has slowed me down and I’ve had to adjust to it.

When I first began losing weight and posting about it, it was largely driven by my need for better health and a changing self-image. I needed to get rid of the pounds because my knees were driving me nuts. Anyone else who struggles know of what I speak. So I did some research, found an exercise that I adore, some foods that I also adore and went for it. The little “Biggest Loser” competition didn’t hurt either. But somewhere towards the end, I mused on these pages; how much weight do I have to lose to get my wife to want me? It’s at that point that Rod Smith chimed in with a comment that I really needed to get Passionate Marriage. I had been following 2amsomewhere’s posts on the subject and was somewhat familiar with Schnarch and his writings from lurking alt.support.marriage. This name would come up on other relationship blogs on occasion also.

In November Rod and I did make efforts to contact each other by telephone. One time I woke him up after he was asleep! He was very nice about it, and told me to call back earlier the day the next day, which I did try but got an answering machine. He left voice messages on my phone as well as by email. I’m okay with all of this because just knowing he was there was sufficient. Plus I got the book and figured after reading it I might have more to talk about afterwards. The point being that I was too busy (and careless) to even make a phone therapy connection but as it turned out his advice was spot-on. He gave me a small shove in the right direction.

The last time I had a major discussion with Arwyn, it was almost like an assault or a guerrilla attack. It was short and a skirmish that left more questions than answers and certainly didn’t do anything to make me feel better about our marriage. It was bad timing all around.

This time, it was not planned at all. I went to the store after work and she and the boys had gone to church. We got home about the same time and she put the boys to be while I got ready for the next day. I was tired and was ready to go to bed. This is highly unusual as she normally goes to bed early and I stay up late, mostly after midnight. She was in already bed when I came in the bedroom. I sat for a minute contemplating whether to turn in or go back to the living room and turn on the computer. I laid down and attempted to snuggle up to her in the inverted position. To my surprise, all I found at the foot of the bed was her legs. Her hands reached down in the dark and moved over my legs and bum and wondered what i was doing. I switched positions, feeling a bit embarrassed but was able to snuggle without her moving off. And then we began to talk.

At first it was about her church, where the senior pastor is taking a leave of absence “to recharge” and another pastor there just left the ministry with no known explanation. More casualties of “church.” I shared with her my evolving views of church. She’s known that my views were under construction, as it were. She thought I was fancying starting my own church as part of a “house church” movement. I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind, but I’ve come to realize that conflict is just part of the growing process. Leaving and starting a church would be a futile attempt to escape and avoid that growth; there really is no escape anyway because conflict is inherent in me. And to carry this where I’m going, leaving my marriage for someone else wouldn’t solve my conflicts because the conflicts that I have with Arwyn are conflicts I have with me.

In that sense, it is about me and my own deficiencies. Confronting my own mess has been a major part of this process. Meanwhile, Arwyn has been working on step 4 in her 12-step program for the second time. This step closely mirrors the process that I was going through as I was learning to confront my own issues. We were going through identical steps at identical times. We did discuss this process. Arwyn went through all 12 steps last year, and I knew she was doing it. I waited for step 8 and step 9 to come around. It never did, at least for me. So when she told me she was doing the 12 steps again, I was skeptical that it was doing her any good at all as she was obviously in some deep, deep denial about what she was doing to me.

She admitted that she had “forgotten” to deal with me in those steps, and I corrected her and told her she had most likely simply chosen to avoid it altogether. She admitted to that and we went into a discussion about our avoidance issues and the fact that we were both first class avoiders. One of the major problems is that neither of us was interested in listening to what the other had to say and so we simply avoided the major issues. We agreed that this was likely something we both acquired from our respective backgrounds and that we would need to work in order to overcome that. Much of arwyn’s avoidance stems directly from issues I brought up in that long thread “XH and Me” where most people forgot all about the “me” part and wanted to talk about XH. Fact is, I have many of the same exact issues as I related there. My brain allows me to intellectually out-flank a whole lot of people and I have my own sense of moral rightness that makes others feel small, stupid and wrong. I can effectively use this to keep people from getting too close and intimidate them while beaming with pride when others tell me how great a Sunday school teacher I am or how great and smart I am in general. Smartness is a long way from wisdom, as evidenced by me stupidly asserting my moral and intellectual superiority over my wife.

Nothing says “I love you” like making a person feel small, stupid and wrong.

Keep in mind, this intellectual power was what fueled her initial attraction to me. She came to the young adult Sunday school class I was teaching and really liked my teaching skillz. She was hungry for knowledge and saw me as being a person who had a lot to offer her.

But later, she always felt judged and controlled by me, and gave up arguing with me a long time ago. To wit: I was always “right” and she was always “wrong.” My “rightness” pretty much put us on a collision course with disaster. God was using my marriage to wring that self-righteous pride out of me. I’ve still got plenty of it so there will be more wringing, I’m sure. But avoidance was about her only choice, as she saw it. She felt she was always walking on egg shells around me. Yeah, I see it, now. I really was judging her and found her wanting most of the time. The more she withdrew from me, the more I judged her as being inadequate which pretty much guaranteed that we would overheat and become disconnected. There was no such thing as a “discussion” because differing views automatically made us adversaries and if I become an adversary with anyone, I play to win. This is not a winning strategy for making friends and influencing people.

For her part, Arwyn had her own way of winning a fighting which was almost a form of emotional jujutso. To wit:

Jujutsu evolved among the samurai of feudal Japan as a method for dispatching an armed and armored opponent in situations where the use of weapons was impractical or forbidden.

My emotional fusion made me an easy target for this sort of thing. While I was using my intellect, she was using my own heart against me.

We talked about the whole business of marital sadism. I have a sadistic streak so wide, it’s pretty pointless denying it. Arwyn heartily agreed with that. But the real revelation to her was when I talked about my struggle in dealing with her sadistic side. And that opened the big can of worms that you have all been waiting for.

I told her that based on Passionate Marriage I had figured out that early part of our relationship that was so vexing to me. Namely that we were having sex all the time and then after we were married, sex had dwindled to pretty much nothing. The reason for that early sex wasn’t desire, but it was insecurity. Arwyn and I share very rich, deep wells of the fear of abandonment. Her sexual behavior was her attempt to avoid that whole abandonment scenario, and so it was all fueled by her insecurities. She would have sex even though many times she didn’t want to because insecurity reigned. However, she was also feeling guilt and shame over our premarital sexual behavior. By the time we actually got married, the shame and guilt had grown to a point where it overcame her insecurity about our relationship. Once the commitment of marriage was finalized, that insecurity disappeared but the guilt did not.

On top of this, we can add a generous dose of resentment. I was pretty much in total reptilian mode in the early years of our marriage. I really liked sex, and my self worth was totally tied to it. If we had enough sex, I felt loved. When I didn’t, I felt rejected and unloved. Arwyn’s self-worth was also tied to sex. But the more sex we had that she didn’t want, the more she felt used. She felt that in my view, sex was the answer to all our problems. She was pretty much right. She resented me for my controlling ways and then wanting sex on top of that. At the same time, her guilt increased because now I’m really making her feel like the bad wife.

And then we tried to fix each other. A classic example of this is the 3^rd year of our marriage, Arwyn bought Relationship Rescue. She went through about 4 chapters and then didn’t read anymore but did leave the book lying around thinking I really needed to read it. I did glance over it back then and thought it wasn’t too bad of a book for her. Two years later, I picked it up off a dusty shelf and then went through every single exercise. When I came to her at the appropriate time and attempted to follow Dr. Phil’s advice, she really wanted nothing to do with it. A few months later, I bought her the workbook for her birthday. That workbook has never been opened. To say she regretted buying that book is an understatement! She bought it with the idea of changing me, but when I did do it, she resisted it! Because it was another case of me controlling her, she wanted none of it.

A major part of this discussion involved our differing ways of getting to this point. Arwyn does better as part of a group-type structured process where I am able to get stuff from a book and learn independently. I went through Dr. Phil’s book alone. I was able to exercise and diet and lose weight without weekly meetings. I was able to discover and apply vital things from Passionate Marriage without a therapist or a support group — apart from my blogger friends, of course! I play with computers with very little in the way of classwork. I even play around a bit in Linux just getting things off the internet. But this is not at all typical, which is what makes me exceptional as a teacher. It’s what makes XH able to do much of what he does. But it also results in some problems relating to others who are not on the same page. I get exasperated at others for being too slow. Arwyn seemed to always be too slow and she didn’t appreciate me reminding her of it. Her going and finding her own group of friends in a different church through a 12 step group seems to be just what was needed for her to work on herself. And she has been doing it with the help of the group and her sponsor. It was helpful having my own background in 12 step groups because much of what Schnarch talks about translates fairly easily into 12-step-ese. I was able to share what I had learned from reading this book pretty much what I shared here. Writing has been another vital part of processing what I’ve learned and I’m getting better at harnessing that in order to internalize and retain it.

I shared with her my revelation about her own sadism in watching me suffer all of these years in virtual sexlessness, knowing perfectly well that I was suffering. She stood by and watched and participated in it while doing nothing or even rejecting my efforts to resolve it. I treaded carefully here, because I knew this was extremely sensitive territory we were in. Almost every previous discussion of sex has resulted in her and I both getting defensive and her totally melting down. But she did not meltdown at all. She took the hit and held it together. That was truly an amazing thing to witness.

Then we got to some nitty gritty. Basically, for pretty much our whole marriage, the sex has been awful. I did point out that she might have been ahead of me in that department for not wanting bad sex, while I was willing to ask for a double portion of it. She pretty much agreed with my assessment: it’s not that she did not like sex. She did not want it from me. It took me all this time to really figure it out to a point where I could deal with it and handle that without falling apart.

This is what emotional gridlock and critical mass does for a marriage. It makes emotional fusion such a totally untenable position that we are forced to move away from it and grow like a hermit crab that outgrows its shell and has to shed it to go find a new one. We were both ready to listen because the alternative was too much to take.

We discovered that we were on the same page in a lot of areas. We both wanted good sex and not bad sex. We each affirmed the right of the other to avoid bad sex and go for good sex. What entails “good sex” was not discussed, however. Just getting to this point was nothing short of monumental. I told her that I wanted to pursue that with her. I think the act of choosing her was an important one, at least for me. I’m not sure I’ve ever truly done that, before. Honestly, it comes to me that I’ve accepted her, settled for her, preferred her, cared for her, tried to win her, and done other things. But I don’t know if I’ve ever truly chosen her. She asked me out the first time we went out. Schnarch did write extensively about this, and I’m going to have to look it up again as it didn’t register first time through and i didn’t write about it because it didn’t hit me.

Moving on to better sex might be a daunting challenge, but I think she might be up for at least approaching the challenge of it. She seemed to be very open to it last night at least. No we did not have sex. By the time we concluded, it was already 1:30 a.m. and we both had to get up early and I was tired before we started the conversation. But we were snuggled together and touching and holding hands and it really was probably more intimacy than we had shared at any other time. Hence the proposed title “This is the most significant conversation we’ve ever had” which is a statement Arwyn made.

We concluded by deciding that we would avoid more positively. Namely that we were going to avoid avoiding these sorts of conversations in the future!

D.

442

 

The past 24 hours have seen major developments in a couple of the major themes of my blog.  But I’ll have to catch you up a bit.

 

A while back, I was grousing quite a lot about Arwyn’s unilateral decision to go to a new church.  She has continued to go and take the boys with her.  Her involvement has deepened and increased and now she goes maybe 3 times a week plus once or twice on Sundays.  She is scheduled to get baptized this Sunday.

 

It has been painful for me to contemplate and make my choice.  I have enjoyed my time and involvement in the Methodist church.  I’ve enjoyed teaching and have enjoyed the people I was with.  I was able to feel included in their community.  However, Arwyn did not feel included and was spiritually withering on the vine.  She hasn’t had the more orthodox, fundamental experiences that I have had.  Her thinking is not quit in the frame as mine, which is grow where you’re planted.  But that isn’t to say I’ve retained my own spiritual vigor over time.

 

In the grand scheme of things, this church experience is the sort that I’d have hoped for her years ago.  I thought at the time a more Biblical orthodox experience would benefit her.  In the meantime, even as her level of discontent with the Methodist church increased, I adjusted and got more comfortable with it.  So when she was finally ready to make a move, I absolutely was not ready.   And I became less ready the more she pushed.

 

However, I began to come to terms with my choices and where we were headed and where I wanted to be headed.  It was obvious she wasn’t changing her mind and the more I thought about it, the more it made more sense for me to switch.  So I decided to make the move.  This last Sunday, I taught my last class at the Methodist church.  Those that were there were sorry to see me go, but understood why I was doing it.

 

I also went to the membership class in the afternoon for the new church.  The pastor is a bit of an ex-hippie and his background told why this church is so big on a contemporary music format.  I listened to him explain where he came from and why he thought another church was needed amongst the 8 other churches within a 4 mile radius.  Much of what is happening here is based on Rick Warren’s model of a Purpose Driven Church.  The model used at this church is grounded exclusively in the Bible, rather than history or tradition or dogma. 

 

Generally I could get on board with this outfit without reservation outside of the fact that I’ll have to start out at the bottom.  When it comes to using spiritual gifts, they want everyone to move through the entry-level services.  Usher, greeter, parking lot  attendant…those kinds of things.  I’ve tried the greeter bit and it isn’t my thing.  I can do it and whatever else without much complaint but its not necessarily using my gifts.  I believe every Christian is called upon to pray, evangelize, teach, show mercy, minister and have a basic set of skills but we each have one or two of these in abundance.  Teaching is obviously where I feel God’s pleasure the most, but few churches will allow someone to just walk in and do that. 

 

Anyway, after this class, Arwyn was keen to talk.  And we did for a few hours.  I basically went after her and challenged her, “Are you sure you want to join this church?  You know they are going to expect a higher level of commitment and a higher standard of behavior.”

 

She said she understood, but I don’t think she was quite getting my point.  So I just drove it home.

 

“These folks will expect you to adhere to a Biblical standard which includes submitting to your husband.  And by going off on your own apart from me, you’ve violated the belief system you’ve just joined!”

 

I know I’ll catch some flack for the above statement.  I’m all about the other side; my responsibility of making sure she feels loved.  But I really felt the need to drive home that particular point because it has been a point of contention between us.  She has been in a state of rebellion for a long time and it has caused serious problems for us.  Not because I’m being a tyrant, but because she repeatedly comes out from what is supposed to be a protective place to do her own thing and disaster visits us all, most notably in the area of finances. 

 

I don’t expect non evangelicals to get this idea of men submitting to God while women submit to their husbands.  But it should be fairly easy to understand that you don’t join a church or other group with the intention of going against that group’s norms.  Would you join a group devoted to cats and bring your dog?  Would you bring a grill and some steaks to a PETA picnic?  Do you regularly go to the local Macintosh User’s Group and go on about how great Windows XP is?  It’s up to each person to know about their particular group before joining.   The problem with Methodists is that they no longer adhere to any standard.  

 

This took Arwyn by surprise a bit and she had to think about this for awhile.  We got the kids in bed and asleep and she wanted to talk more.  She apologized for going outside of my input and pushing for this new church.  I told her that God was able to use anything, and this might just be the best thing for us, no matter how it came about.  She assured me that this is what she wanted.  She wanted to lived more consistently within the Bible’s teachings. 

 

And then something happened that has not happened in a very long time.  Something that had not happened in over 440 days, in fact.

 

We were laying in the dark on the bed and there was a long period of silence.  Then I turned towards her and we just hugged for awhile.  Then Arwyn said, “You wanna get naked?”  I was stunned.  “Before I change my mind.” she added.  I decided to ignore that last bit as she was truly making an effort and that’s really all I wanted.  And, after all, it had been almost a year and a half. 

 

What followed was a fairly drawn-out and somewhat unexpectedly relaxed love making session.  I was just thoroughly enjoying the sensations of two naked bodies next to each other and then becoming one.  I could have went for a second round, but did not.  There was plenty of after-play cuddling and kissing throughout.  Arwyn said she wanted this to be a new start for us.  She also said she wanted to know my heart and felt like I was always distancing myself from her.  I said I felt the same way.

 

In many ways, Arwyn and I are a lot alike in temperament.  Anger and resentment can linger for long periods of time and we both have issues with forgiveness.  The avoider mentality is a natural function of us both being somewhat introverted.  We both tend to live mostly within our own heads.  But with her deciding that she really wants to submit puts the weight of the relationship more squarely on me.  I can’t just let things slide off the deep end as when she refused to listen to what I was telling her.  She could still rebel and I could still screw up.  But the fact is, we have both decided to shift over to this new page and a different sort of relationship.

 

I’ve experimented with trying on a more submissive role, and this just isn’t for Arwyn (me being submissive).  And my last little experiment sort of illustrated why it’s not exactly fitting me properly, either.  The difference in the Christian paradigm is that while a wife is called to submit to her husband, the husband is not called to dominate.  I just thought I’d clarify for those thinking this might turn into me totally flipping the script.

 

So for the first time in my recent memory, Arwyn has stated a more emphatic desire to see our marriage work.  She’s trying to set things straight and wants to start out new.

 

I do want to thank those of you who have been with me throughout the entire 442 day sexual drought and those who came in the middle of it.  It made the journey slightly less lonely.  I’m sincerely hoping that none of us have to suffer through anymore of these.  

 

D.

 

 

Photo Shot

This morning I was awakened by the early morning wood trying to bust out of the cage at around 5 a.m. Normally, I would try to to sleep through it or use the bathroom and try to go back to sleep.

However this was not such a morning. No, I got up and used the bathroom but I did not go to bed. I went to the computer, instead. And sure enough, there was the combination to the key. Always Aroused Girl is nothing if not dependable. I only regret that she couldn’t be here to personally deliver it and unlock me. I unlocked the lock, and re-deposited the key into the Shurlock. In a few days or weeks I’l forget the combination, anyway.

While Arwyn was taking her shower, I grabbed the camera and hopped back into bed and watched the morning news. And to stretch out. I removed the cage, leaving the ring on with the locking post. After Arwyn emerged from the bathroom, fully dress, she darted out without so much as a look. All to the good.

First, I did some cleaning of the cb3K and its assorted parts. Then it was time for me and my cock to get re-aquainted. And just to up the ante a bit, I decided to see if the aneros could assist.

Let’s talk a bit about male masturbatory habits for just a second. It would be fair to say that most guys can do it just about any time, any where if there’s enough stimulation and urgency. However, we do have certain times, places and methods we prefer. And there are methods we do not prefer. For me, I’ve never been into stroking off in the shower or in the standing position.

I’ve had an orgasm in the standing position exactly once, about 5 years ago while Arwyn stroked me off while we were together in the shower. It’s hard for me to think of an encounter with her hotter than that one. Afterwards I commented that I had never come standing up before and her reply was, “I imagine you could probably get off just about any where or in any position.” I never was sure how to take that remark.

So in order to meet the agreed upon conditions, I had to be laying down. Plus I had to take a picture. It is then that I experienced another first, aside from taking this sort of picture. This was to be a photo shoot in the most literal sense.

My most favorite hand might be Arwyn’s. But when I’m solo-ing, I am a definite righty. And I quickly discovered that cameras favor the right with a view finder on the left and the button on the right. Taking this shot one handed was going to be a challenge, to say the least. So I decided to stretch myself even more and go left handed. It was almost like having a new partner!LOL!

So with aneros and my hand working away and some extra lube and with over 2 weeks of confinement, you would think it would be as easy as gravity, right? Right? It took some extra time and concentration and while holding the camera and worrying about the big shot. The money shot. This was a lot of pressure! In more ways then one.

But I persevered and finally the moment of truth came. I came. And my sore cock and balls felt some relief and relaxation for the first time in a long time. But Mount Vesuvius, it wasn’t. I was totally nonplussed. I waited over 2 weeks for THIS?

I got what would be hardly described as a money shot. More like a loose change shot. The-quarter-under-the-couch-cushion shot. I definitely need more practice. I definitely need to find my mojo, as this is unacceptable.

D.

No, I am NOT posting the photos.  So consider yourself spared …for now.

VD

 

The last post is a couple of days old, but I thought it might help address some things that were brought up in prior comments as well as warm things up for some future discussion or activities.  But we need to get caught up on events.  And there have been some events to actually talk about for once. 

 

The thing about Valentine’s Day is that there is really no possible way to escape this “holiday” without some degree of drama for good or ill.  Of course, it’s not a real holiday because we don’t get off work for it, so it’s more of a fake holiday that involves the outlay of cash.  But if you do nothing, you’re going to hear about it.  If you do something, but it’s not enough or the right thing, you can get burnt.  And if you happen to go over the top this year you are setting yourself up for next year’s disappointment.  A fellow like FTN with his limitless imagination and creativity screws the rest of us over by raising the bar ever higher.  The bright side of that is that he often shares his secrets with his male audience, thus we can independently replicate his efforts.  He’s on his way to a Nobel Prize in romance, I’m sure.

 

This year, I knew that the bar was going to be very, very low in my house.  Arwyn, being a preschool teacher has been working on Valentine’s stuff all week, so it isn’t like we could pretend the thing doesn’t exist.  However, the outcome was still a bit surprising to me.  Maybe it shouldn’t have been, given sentiments expressed earlier in the week by some of you.

 

Valentine’s Day arrived, and Arwyn greeted each of the boys by wishing them Happy Valentine’s Day.  And so it was that her and the boys had a Valentines themed day.  And of course, no workplace is safe from the arrival of flowers, balloons and assorted other stuffed toys.  My plan was pretty simple and straight to the point.  A card plus a gift card.  The gift card hits Arwyn’s biggest sweet spot which isn’t candy, flowers or balloons, but money.  Anything else would be simply thrown away or given to the boys. I actually found a card that had little cute coupons for a free night out to eat, control of the remote for the day, free bug-killing service, a day out with the girls and a day out without the kids and that sort of thing.  The $25 gift card fit right in with that theme.  I also sent a text “Happy Valentine’s Day” message to her.

 

It’s no secret that we haven’t been really doing well in the bonding and attachment department so it was kind of laughable looking at the cards (with other guys doing the last-minute thing) and seeing just how unsentimental I could get if I wanted. 

 

So I went home after work with some other groceries and spent some time playing with one of the boys while Arwyn helped the other with homework.  I put the card/gift card in the bathroom where she’d find it later.  Then we just played and goofed off until it was time for them to go to bed. 

 

I had the urge to post the post below, but instead chose to spend it reading some stuff I’d downloaded on the PDA while watching American Idol with her in the bedroom. I’m not sure if I get any points for that or not, but at least I wasn’t losing any ground.  At some point, she did find the card and she opened it and thanked me for it.  I think I probably fell asleep before the show was over or shortly afterwards.  And that was it. 

 

So Valentine’s Day ended without a lot of fanfare, but this shouldn’t surprise anyone who has been reading me for any time at all.  Arwyn doesn’t do well under pressure, anyway.  The last few years, she’s bought some rather lackluster cards that were supposed to be sort of humorous but weren’t all that funny.  The real funny part was we bought nearly identical-type cards a year or two ago that looked like they were illustrated and written by the same person!  They had the same cat characters, same tri-fold format and same goofy story motif!  And they were both equally non-sentimental.

 

There is a post-script to this tale though. 

 

This morning, I awoke at an early hour, which happens when I go to sleep at an earlier time.  Arwyn was still asleep and it was 20 or so minutes before her alarm as going to be going off.  So I was sort of hugging up on her legs (remember we are in the inverted position) while she’s under her own blanket.  I gradually reached down to where I could start rubbing her back and she seemed to be okay with this rather than batting my hands away like she normally might.  Before long I switched to where we were lying in the same orientation at the foot of the bed and just kissed and hugged her for a bit.  This sort of went on and then she said she had to get up and get ready for the day, but she shifted to where she was hugging me more.  So we held each other but it was in such a way as I wasn’t really able to kiss her at all.  But I was able to get under her shirt and rub her back for a bit and even cupped her bare breast for awhile.  She was okay with this although not specifically turned on.  So that was a milestone of a sort right there.  I had not had that sort of intimate contact with her in over a year and probably much longer since I wasn’t batted entirely away.  Our embrace eventually broke and she got in the shower and I had a raging hard-on to deal with.  And I did deal with it by myself.  And then I showered and we sat down together to have breakfast as well as we could between getting boys ready for school and getting them on the bus.

 

So there you have it.  The movement is not very profound or ambitious but at least we’re not careening and cascading into the abyss of total meltdown.  Or maybe we are but it’s nice to have some respite, however brief, once in awhile. 

 

I might expand on whatever themes that might be couched within here later, but I’ll let you all think about it and discuss it if you get the urge. 

 

D.

Happy Birthday to me!

Satan was, indeed, correct about it being my birthday. But where she got the adjective “glorious” to describe this day is entirely anyone’s guess. She, of all people, should recognize that my birthdays have never been much in the way of stellar. Or mediocre. Or even sub-average. At least not in the last 10 years.

Arwyn subscribes to the LL view that just because it is (insert momentous occasion here), don’t go assuming that there will be sex. In fact, it is far safer and less frustrating to assume there WILL NOT be sex. We would not want to cultivate anything resembling an attitude of entitlement, now would we?

This morning, I was greeted by my wife snaking her hands down my shorts and firmly grasping my morning erection. She whispered “Good morning” before tonguing my ear and draping a naked leg over me. After pulling my shorts down and off, she mounted me and whispered “Happy Birthday!”

“It definitely is now!” I half groan, quickly becoming more alert and my breathing quickly becoming jagged as she rocked her hips slowly, grinding me deeper into her.

Oh wait. That was a dream!

In reality, I was greeted to “Happy Birthdays” by Arwyn and the boys, but they were all in a rush to get to work and school. There was the goodbye/good morning kiss as Arwyn had already showered and dressed before I even woke up. It was a good dream.

Once at work, I was up to my eyeballs, with a brief acknowledgement of the day by my department and some co-workers but otherwise nothing too spectacular. No parties or anything like that, which would have just been embarrassing. It was a day where I was glad when it was over.

The boys were excited, mostly about getting to eat birthday cake and blowing out candles. They presented me with a new silk tie and some hand made cards that I’ll have to find a special place for.

After dinner, the boys were bathed, put in bed and then Arwyn ran to the store for milk. Then she spent time on the computer while I read a few blogs. Then my dad called to whish me a happy birthday and we talked for a couple of hours. By this time, Arwyn is long asleep.

Emily had asked about accepting a sort of servicing deal like she has going on, basically consisting of a handjob administered in a loving, sensual fashion. Fact is, I would do that and have subsisted on that sort of sexual diet before, only a much, much leaner version. Emily’s version of the encounter would be extravagant by comparison!

The reason I have not gone for the handjob these past 10 months is because they have become exercises in humiliation instead of some loving compromise or accommodation. I’ve asked Arwyn to at least strip down to her underwear for these sessions and she has refused. It is extraordinarily difficult being vulnerable around someone who is so unwilling to offer anything of the like from themselves.

In addition to insisting on being fully clothed, she has to have the towel right there. There is never any lubrication used. It goes thus:

I ask her if she could use her hands on me. This having to ask basically makes it all about me getting off, bereft of love or compassion. My thought is that she might do this just because she knows I enjoy it. But no. I feel like a chore.

She asks if I have the towel. It is up to me to obtain the hand towel and have it ready. She may assist in pulling my underwear off, but I had better otherwise be undressed and ready to go.

Once I am completely naked (and she is not even partially naked) she will lay with her head on my chest in a more conventional cuddle position, and begin stroking me. She has laid the towel out beneath my erect cock so it is ready to catch any offending fluids. Her strokes are quite purposeful and she is all about her task. She goes straight for getting me off. It usually doesn’t take very long as she has sort of trained me for getting off as fast as possible. She used to complain about how tired her hands were getting or her sore wrists. And it was true she had severe carpel tunnel before getting surgery a couple years ago. Her handjobs were actually a bit better then, because she would rest frequently which enabled me to ride the roller coaster longer. But she would quit if I took too long.

So she is stroking away. Sometimes she might watch TV but most times there is no sound or light save my own breathing which is becoming more shallow and ragged. When she feels me getting close she folds the towel up so that her hand and my cock are completely enclosed and she quickens her pace until I explode. My orgasms from her hands are quite strong, and she does “play through” by continuing to stroke me even past the point where it is pleasurable. I reach down to slow her furious strokes and she subsides and stops. She may keep her grip for a minute or two, and then wipe her hand off on the towel before going to the bathroom to scrub with soap and water. I am left to clean up with the towel before putting my shorts back on.

There is not a lot of talking before or after. At one point in our handjob sex life, we actually did talk during the procedure. It was often interesting because we would talk about mundane things while she was stroking me. The more mundane, the better as far as I was concerned. It could have helped me last longer except that the sound of her voice combined with the rasping, gasping of my own voice and breathing was such a turn-on for me!

Yeah, I get off on my own breathing.

When replaying the faded mental sexual tapes of past lovers, the breathing is one of the most vivid and erotic memories I have. I adore the sounds of a woman getting turned on and losing control. I truly miss the sound of a women getting aroused under my touch. Just the sound of her arousal might send me over the edge.

Arwyn rarely gives any auditory feedback. And I’m not a real vocal lover, myself. But talking pulls the curtain back and a body can hear the breathing become more shallow as arousal deepens. You can hear the quivers and the trembling in the voice that could otherwise be hidden in silence. So Gone often writes about how she enjoys talking during sex, or at least when her partner talks. It’s something I have only recently discovered, myself and I do think it is good to regulate the pace and flow of things. For me, the conversation does not have to be sexual or even intimate. Intimacy helps, but sex makes any conversation more palatable!LOL!

Getting back to wherever I was…

Where was I?

I could go for handjobs as the primary part of my sexual diet, but some effort needs to be expended to make the experience less humiliating and at the very least, more fun. I would like, Arwyn to find the time and effort worth while in some aspect. I would definitely like these sessions to last longer than 3-5 minutes. I would like more intimacy and some efforts at being more vulnerable. I’d like to not feel like a sexual pervert. As it is, I get off and then have all the emotional shit left over afterwards and it isn’t worth it. It’s a hell of a lot less effort, trouble and drama to get myself off and it seems that’s the way she prefers it.

I have no idea if it addresses any questions, but I think it turned out to be a pretty hot post.

D.

When and How Did Digger Lose His Virginity?

An email list gone awry is the inspiration for this post, as well as my bloggiversary present to all of you.  Someone seemed to misdirect it towards me, but it wasn't a bad question and ties in with one of my earliest posts here.  Apologies to those who read all this stuff on Sensual Dementia, which would have been 2 years old about now.

 

 

In "Dead Ringer" I regaled the tale of woe of my first love.  My virginity was still intact at the end of it, even if my heart was not.  While we did many, many intimate things, including getting naked, sexual intercourse was not part of it for Ellen and I.  I wished she would have been my first.  She was not, but she was there in spirit.

 

I went back to college after having graduated 1 1/2 years earlier.  In some ways, I felt closer to Ellen there, since it was where she went and where we met and where we spent so much of our time.  I was almost a year out when I kissed her under the Campanile, a tradition I never got to participate in as a student.  But this story is not about Ellen.  It's about the loss of my cherry.

 

While Ellen and I did not go all the way, my sexual side was ignited.  My need for affection, cuddling, holding, kissing and passion…these all fairly oozed out of me.  As a vampire craves blood, I craved the tender flesh-upon-flesh sensations of being physically melded together as one, even if I was not exactly experienced.

 

Living off-campus as a 25-soon-to-be-26 year-old student, I was more mature that most of my college peers.  I was taking some lower level science and language courses, which allowed me to observe younger-me clones making the mistakes I made my first 4+ years.  But I was a studious adult student.  I hit the books nonstop 8-6 M-F whether I had class or not.  I knew the world of working 18 hour days, so this was gravy.  My evenings and weekends were mine, mostly.  So what to do?

 

The community newspaper (not the college one) ran personal ads a couple times a week.  On a lark, I went ahead and filled one out, as meeting women in bars was a place I had outgrown, and I had not yet learned about picking them up at church.  In fact, this was a period where I lived a godless, heathen life as much as I wanted. 

 

Three women answered my little ad.  I met all 3 of them.  One of them, we went out exactly once.  It was nice and lovely, but there was definitely no chemistry.  She was a grad student in the genetics department and had a sister who was a bit of a celebrity in the state of Iowa.

 

The second was a total flake.  But we did see each other several times as friends.  Again, there were no sparks coming from her.  Her dad was professor at the university and she was just sort of sponging off of her parents.

 

The third was the one.  Missy did not have a degree, but worked in the university library.  She also had a 2 year-old little boy.  She was upfront about that, and I was more than fine with that.  I was going through a stage where I was really wanting to have babies and kids.  Or at least I thought so at the time.  Our first date nearly didn't happen, as we arranged to meet at a Godfather's Pizza joint.  What neither Missy or I knew was that it was closed.

 

So, I tried calling her, and reached her sister who was babysitting for her.  The year was 1989, well before cell phones, so we were using these archaic things called pay phones that used to actually be pretty common.    So Missy's sister ended up coordinating us to a Pizza Hut located in the same area as the ill-fated Godfather's.  

 

Missy had warned me that she had gained some weight and was quite heavy.  However, I did not see this as a big deal.  I wasn't heavy at the time, but I did have this ugly thing going on.  However, Missy sort of sized me up and decided I wasn't too bad.  I suppose that was how I saw her, too.  She was not morbidly obese, just a woman who had a young child and hadn't lost the pregnancy weight.  She also had long red hair.  We had our pizza and shared a pitcher of coke or something and then we went to a bar that had a bunch of pool tables.  I'm not very good at playing pool, but Missy was even worse.  At least we got our money's worth!  We had a couple of beers, and while playing pool, I had a chance to really check her out.  I liked her, and it was obvious that she was nervous and trying to make a good impression for me.  It was an okay date.  We might have ended with a hug, and that was that.  No one would ever guess that there was chemistry brewing.

 

I did call her a day or so later and we talked quite awhile on the phone.  We actually did arrange a second date, meeting at a hockey game.  More beer was consumed there, and there was a lot more flirty hugging-holding type stuff going on.  No kissing at this point, though.  I agreed to meet her back at her place after the game and after I picked up my VCR and a couple of movies. 

 

Her son was in bed asleep when we got there, and I met her sister who promptly left.  So we lay upon the couch and snuggled and sort of watched the movie.  Actually we didn't watch it at all.  We were making out and kissing pretty much the entire time.  Things got hot and out of hand.  Really hot.  No, I mean hot as is in sweaty hot.  My body really did get into a sort of overheated state and there was no way I was going to get and stay hard.  So there was some frustrated tension, there.  I went home from the second date, still a virgin.

 

But there were other dates.  Quite a number of these were booty calls, because I somehow learned the fine art of giving Missy handgasms.  That was SO awesome, and I enjoyed making her come over and over until she couldn't stand it anymore.  But I was still pretty much a virgin.  We were naked and intimate, but it wasn't until I spent an entire night with her that the early morning wood kicked in, and I was able to easily slip inside of Missy.  I was good to go, but didn't come inside of her the first time.  I don't know why, I just didn't.

 

This story does have a tragic ending.  Or tragic to me, at least.  Every time I came over to Missy's house, I had condoms in my pocket.  Every time.  But I never once used them, and she never made an issue out of it.  In 1989, AIDS was well known, but still it was considered a gay thing.  But there were still all sorts of other things out there.  Not the least of which was pregnancy.

 

One night I got a real booty call.  Missy and her sister had gone to see some male strippers, and she asked if I'd come over.  The girl was positively smokin' passion when I got there as she fairly threw her sister out the door.  She had a mini skirt on and no panties and she positively ATTACKED me!  Clothes went flying, except for the mini which just got pushed up.  It was so hott.  I mounted up and she was so wet, I easily pushed right in.  Missy was just so totally into me that night.  I came inside of her and she held me right there, hands on my butt, feeling every spasm and pulse and throb.  How I loved having my butt held.  How I miss that.

 

   I felt a bit guilty about the condoms in my pocket, but this being the first time coming inside of her…I made a mental note to be more careful next time.

 

However there really wasn't a next time.  I went several hours away for Christmas break and then when I came back, she didn't really want to see me.  She was terse and brief with me on the phone.  I wasn't too good about keeping in touch over break, although I did come down once and talked to her on the phone.  She said she was really sick and didn't want to talk to anyone.

 

The next time I saw her at a hockey game, she was more reserved.  She did finally invite me to her house to talk afterwards.  There would be no more sexual foolishness, though.  Missy dropped the bomb that she had gotten pregnant from the one time and had gotten an abortion.  I was devastated.

 

Keep in mind, I was at a place where I thought I wanted babies and kids.  Wanted them really badly!  And I was absolutely opposed to abortion being my fundamental/evangelical (and terribly sinful) hypocritical self.  But I couldn't be too upset with Missy.  Already a single parent, the prospect of having another one was not something she looked forward to.  She simply did not want to bother with the whole pregnancy bit, despite the fact that I had voiced a willingness to take care babies and kids.  I would have gone it alone or at least tried.  But the fact is, I had no idea what I was thinking.  I wasn't thinking, which was the problem. 

 

In the end, Missy said that she really enjoyed the sex that we had.  The handgasms I gave her were her first ever orgasms, and she really liked them.  But Missy and I had very little in common outside of her bedroom.  In fact, I can't really think of anything.  We had nothing in common politically, spiritually or educationally.  Missy was a nice, handy piece of ass.  Subconsciously, I was avenging my non-loss of virginity with Ellen.  I picked someone as totally unlike her as I could find, and had a fling lasting less than 3 months.

 

I never told Missy that she was my first.  I was probably only her second after her baby-daddy, and nearly became one myself.  I doubt she really suspected, or maybe didn't care once I started getting her off multiple times.

 

So much for the loss of my virginity just a few weeks after my 26th birthday.  I was glad to be shed of my cherry, but really had so much more to learn about sex.  Missy and I never had a whole lot of practice, so I never had a chance to get any good at it.  In fact, it would be another year before I would find a partner who would truly educate me in the erotic arts.

 

The whole abortion thing still bothers me, sometimes, but it was not enough to traumatize me against sex by any stretch.  In fact, I was determined to make up for lost time.  In 1990, there would be 4 new partners making it my most promiscuous year ever.

 

Happy Bloggiversary

 

D.

 

Naked Time

12/9/2005

Friday

I’m getting behind in my reading and seriously unable to leave comments everywhere that I want. But life still goes on. And so my life has.

YES!

Last night the date was kept. It got after 9:00 and I was beginning to wonder since the boys were in bed by 8:00 and she was on the computer. That has been a recipe for disaster in the past.

So I got ready for bed, and caught up with some of my reading while waiting. Naked. When she came in, I could barely contain myself. She was feeling cold so was not completely naked when she got under the covers with me, but this did not last long. I am a walking heater most nights and last night was a veritable blast furnace. I would have been content with a whole lot of naked snuggling. Seriously. It has been sooooo long. But I was stiff as a board. I’m not sure what Arwyn’s frame of mind was going into this, but I determined way early on to not look a gift horse in the mouth. She eventually shed all remaining clothing and got on top of me.

Top position is best for her and at this point I would be fine with almost any position. Anything that involve us being naked and mashed up against each other. I moved my warm all over her to keep all the naked exposed parts warm and toasty.

You know what? I’m going to abbreviate the steamy details. Firstly, because they are not altogether exciting. Besides, there are better sex bloggers out there. I don’t think of myself as a sex blogger as much as a relationship one. Second, there were no major issues, which is a blessing in itself. Finally, I think I need to punish all the folks leaving the snarky comments a couple days ago as well as the readers not leaving any comments! My apologies to those who left adoring, admiring and otherwise ego-stroking comments. You deserve more, and I’ll do better for you next time. See you in 104 days.

It was good, it was relaxing, it was what I needed. I think the morning was actually much steamier and more sensually erotic, truth be known. Her naked and me fully clothed (and locked up) while ravishing her with kisses was seriously approaching a major fantasy of mine.

Which reminds me of FTN’s little question/poll

How many married readers would be content to spend months planning, say, a surprise getaway weekend to an isolated, rustic cabin — with a big jacuzzi bathtub — and specifically plan to NOT have sex? If you did, would it be an enjoyable, or a frustrating, week?

Doable. For me, anyway. But there is a complicated dynamic and it would be difficult for the LL to fully except it. One problem is the old Bill Clinton thing: What is sex? What is is? I mean this is a supposedly romantic thing, right? An intimate thing, right? One problem I’ve encountered in various run-ins with our LL women is that there is a basic intimacy problem that sometimes extends beyond just sex. The sex is more symbolic of a closeness they are simply not comfortable with. The chastity/lock up gambit was my solution to this. Yes, if I were locked up the entire time and we could be intimate without specifically having sex while still having some degree of physical and emotional intimacy, I would do it. It would be enjoyable and frustrating. But that’s just my kinkiness coming through. I can find enjoyment in a certain type of frustration as long as it is consensual. The problem is that even this has sexual overtones and expectations that put pressure on the LL partner. But the concept is that they could relax without the pressure. Leave the keys at home and have at it. But eventually there would have to be a payoff at some future point. Could a LL person let go of that expectation in order to relax and enjoy the sex-free weekend without that expectation looming over and casting its dark shadow? The success of the whole venture would depend on that. Fact is, the majority of LL women are so neurotic, it would be difficult for them to let go of their worry long enough to enjoy the experience. This plays right on into the whole sexual experience. Sometimes they can let go once they are in the throes of passion, but that is not a sure thing.

Okay, back to the question: Could I do it? Yes, most definitely. But probably not the same way as most other folks. I would definitely anticipate some naked time, but necessarily sex. Would that be a fair compromise?

D.