We had some amazing sex… several times in one day. It was unabashedly about being carnal and because we were home alone all day, it was spontaneous and fun. Yes, I’m talking about with my husband. He was cool and funny and very casual and I guess my hormones were set on high, after all I hadn’t had any in almost a week. That’s like dog years to me, well, so long as it’s sex I desire.
I didn’t have to fantasize, cause it was right there. His masculinity excited me as he took me feverishly without abandon. I like a dominant partner who perks up at my cues to be taken. It’s delicious. He knew my buttons and how far to push and he pushed them exquisitely, I shuddered past the edge.
And then like that, my libido was moderately satiated. I say moderately because I still fantasized about women for next few days and at night he would try to have sex with me like it was my duty. There was no ravishing or romancing. It was as if I was failing my part to please him sexually, and he has begun to let me know. Last night I had asked him if he could find me some antacids (ya know, for an upset stomach) and as he plops two into my hand he requests to be paid back in kind with a favor! You guess what kind. I am perplexed at his inability to understand that sex is not a form of repayment, nor am I a prostituting myself to please his insatiable appetite.
He also seems to not get that a long day and his pissy attitude at the end of it does not equal a horny wife. It just doesn’t. Add on top of it that my attraction lessens when I am home and constantly being badgered about sexual favors and unwanted advances at inappropriate times. I feel like I am just his plaything. It’s incredible how quickly the state of affairs declines in just a few days time. He does not see it that way either. He balks at the fact that we only have sex when I want it. What he doesn’t realize is, he’d actually have to say no, for there to be a time he doesn’t want to have it. Ugh.
I love women and sex with women. I love the smell of them, the depth of their personalities and insight but sometimes I wonder if I am driven to them because putting up with shit like this is so carnal and masculine, I’m just tired of it. I hate being pawed at like some hooker who should put out cause he set the table or vaccuumed the fucking rug. “Wow. Oh, geeze thank you. How eva did I git through life without these small measures of love? I’s must now get on muh knees so’s I’s can
suck thanks you proppaly masta!”
And so it begins again… I muster up the life within me to go home and put up with his shit until I gather more courage to call him out on it. So the circle goes on.
She mistakes seduction for love. Over and over again, her heart is broken.
~ Rebecka Eggers
- My Realization (jerizarley.wordpress.com)
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