My loving husband, My Pet, and I talk about sex, a lot.
We talk about sex, itself. We talk about welcoming new partners. We talk about polyamory (I’m polyamorous, he’s not). We talk about ways to enhance our sex inside and outside the bedroom. We even talk about the terms and conditions regarding when he will be able to have traditional sex, again.
Lately, though, we have not been having a lot of any kind of sex, besides talk.
There are a multitude of reasons, including timing and life. Work, youngsters, menstruation, illness, the emotional baggage that comes with dealing with life as divorced grown-ups are main themes in our daily life, as well.
In times past, sexual lulls would have gotten to me, as I worried and felt guilty about whether or not I was giving my partner enough sex, even though I didn’t feel like it. I would have given in, to any sexual advance, because I felt that it was my duty, as a good wife. I might even enjoy it, while it lasted, but then if I didn’t enjoy it, I would have simmered in resentment that I had wasted my time, for nothing (especially if my partner had since rolled over and begun to audibly snore).
Even setting a day aside for Date Nite (or Play Time) was not always ideal. We would have sex because it was planned, but usually, only one of us got any real satisfaction.
That’s essentially what got us, here, to a female led relationship, in the first place.
I was not always in the mood on Date Nite but, once begun, I’d be riled up and My Pet would be asleep. For that reason, I loathed our Date Nites. I dreaded them.
I knew that we needed to spice things up, but it had to be on my terms. Bringing toys into the mix only made him feel threatened. Trying new positions was a recipe for disaster because he would always fall flat…literally. (Thanks to our new arrangement, we are amassing a nice little toy chest. We’re working on his performance anxiety.)
I needed to be in control.
The when, the how and the how long.
Instead of just having sex because that is what couples are supposed to do. I really needed to have sex when I really wanted to. I needed to get over the guilt of just having sex “to save the marriage”. And, once started, I needed him not to stop until I was completely satisfied (practically passed out and snoring, myself…with a smile on my face, of course).
I also needed to teach him how to keep hope alive, even when we weren’t having sex.
I’ve found that a lot of men only give real affection when they think that sex is on the horizon, but rarely if they believe there is no chance (no cuddling while the Mrs. is on her period, for instance). I’ve made it my mission to see to it that no matter whether I am hormonal or playful that cuddling and kissing are part of our daily repetoire, even if I’m not in the mood for sex.
Lately, though, My Pet has been feeling rejected, due to his recent job loss and inability to find another job sufficient to replace his last income. And, due to illness and menstruation, sexual activity of any kind has been the last thing on my mind. But, for a brief moment, I did feel guilty for not engaging in any sexual activity, because I became aware that he considers this another rejection and he feels that it has to do with his not working.
The truth is, although money is tight, the fact that he is home more often is awesome. I like that since we spend more days together, more of my superficial needs are met and we can now have sex without looking at the clock. When the youngsters are gone, we can have sex almost any time or anywhere, something we really couldn’t do when he was working the night shift and sleeping through the days. And that means that one of us can be as loud as they want to be, if you know what I mean (wink-wink).
But, one of the things I sought to denounce, when we started our female led relationship, was the idea that I had to feel guilty for not having sex regardless of whether or not I had, what anybody would consider, a good excuse. I also wanted to denounce the idea that I was only allowed to have sex the way that my husband wanted and not expect any genuine satisfaction for myself.
The further away we get from our once traditional marriage, the less guilty I feel for saying, “No”. I’m busy doing something. Nope, not today. He doesn’t mind that I’m on my period. Nope, not in the mood. But, “you’re naked and you smell so good…” Maybe, tomorrow, honey, but not tonight.
Okay, I will admit that sometimes, these days, I say “No,” because I can. It’s usually followed up, a couple of hours later, with a request to run me a bath; our little code for Play Time.
Thankfully, I am at the tail end my illness and Mother Nature is starting to pack up and move on for another month. That means I’m so looking forward to a nice, hot, bubble bath, in a couple of days. I may even say “Yes”, if he offers before I ask.