Sunday, June 25, 2017

Friday, Oh God it's Friday

Yes, I know it's Sunday. This post was intended for last Friday, to discuss what happened the previous Friday but it was so hard to write up I just couldn't finish it. But damned if I'm gonna wait until this Friday, since it would make the story three weeks old. So, here goes...

In Wednesday's Sex in a tent ~ Part 2 (the sex part) I detailed the sex we had a few weeks back while on a vacation 'retreat'. And as I mentioned in Part 1 it wasn't much of a retreat, but let's not dredge all that back up (since that's what those links are for). The point is... that bad thing that happened (the last bad thing, not the first bad thing) - the thing that made me wonder if I had Erectile Dysfunction - happened on a Friday night.

Well, guess what happened last* Friday night? (*Last meaning over a week ago now - see why I can't delay publishing this draft?)

Yeah, that's right - we had sex but for the life of me I just couldn't orgasm. It happened again. And this time I couldn't blame alcohol for my failure. So it must be ED, right? It went down like this:

This image has nothing to do with today's post, other than it is #FetishFriday today
(Well, it would be if I'd posted this on time! #SinfulSunday anyone?)
We had a quiet Friday evening at home, watching TV. It had been a week since we'd last had sex, but for me that sex (last night of the retreat) was one without release. So by the following Friday I was climbing the wall with my blue balls. As you know from any posts tagged 'scheduled sex', my wife had agreed/decreed that we will have sex on Wednesday and Saturday nights in order to maintain our sexual intimacy since she appreciates it is important to me and all too easy to fall by the wayside since she is a very busy woman and therefore often tired and not in the mood.

As you'll also know from my consistent whining, that agreement is only a measure of her intent. What she promises and what actually happens are two different things. Sure, she means what she says but when push comes to shove... well, she is not so good with delivery. So sure enough Wednesday night came and went, as did Thursday, and no fucks were given. By Friday I was feeling sorry for myself and confident I wouldn't be getting anything on Saturday night either because I knew I was wound up so tight we would probably have some passive aggressive argument before then which would mean she was definitely not in the mood.

Yes, that's how dysfunctional our sex life has become: I get grumpy because we're not having sex - but we don't have sex because I'm grumpy. I've often wondered if she generates these passive aggressive arguments in order to give herself a reason not to have sex with me. According to some therapists it's a thing that some people do.

So on Friday I thought I'd try to be the master of my own domain (as Seinfeld put it) so I masturbated. It was Friday afternoon, my wife was out, and I figured it would relieve the tension, release the pressure, and ensure I wasn't Mr Grumpy by the time Saturday night rolled around. And so I did.

What I hadn't factored into the equation was something I'd already identified, and have mentioned elsewhere in this blog. My wife has this uncanny ability to sense when I've 'taken matters into my own hands' and chooses that moment to initiate sex. So Friday night when we're in bed she asks if I have an erection (because I'm shuffling around in bed) which gives me an erection (when I didn't have one) and then she's encouraging me to jerk off, so I do.

So she's all like "oooh, you're a naughty boy" which is sexy AF but then I notice she seems to be all about getting me off and not at all interested in getting anything for herself. She's ignoring my efforts to get her going and when I touch her she kinda brushes me off and redirects my hands back to my dick. So I kinda accept that and continue jacking my cock, and then she escalates things by talking really dirty. She's telling me "I bet you wanna cum in my ass don't you?" and "I bet you'd love to stick that big cock in my dirty asshole and cum, wouldn't you" and "yeah, you're such a dirty boy, you'd love to fuck my ass". And then to top it all off she get's into position (ass up, head down) and pulls her ass cheeks apart and tells me to fill her crack with my cum.

So she's talking dirty, it's incredibly hot, she's making all the encouraging sexy noises, and ... and ... I start second guessing myself.

It's pretty much a repeat of what I mentioned here. Except this time we're at home, in our bed, no-one else can hear us, and she's doing a very good impression of someone who wants a load of cum dumped on her - so what's the f@#king problem? Is it the Madonna/Whore complex? It's crazy because she's doing everything I've asked for, previously in this blog:
  1. She's allowing me to be sexually intimate with her even though she doesn't want to have sex.
  2. She's actively participating in my self-pleasure - not just telling me to go and jerk off privately and to not bother her with my 'need for a release'
  3. She's not just 'letting me do it' - she's touching me and making appreciative noises and encouraging dirty talk
So what IS the f@#king problem???

I dunno, but once again I couldn't cum. I passed it off as having 'just' ejaculated that afternoon, but even people over 50 should be able to recover after a few hours so really... what's the f@#king problem?  My wife wasn't too happy about that (the afternoon masturbation) which meant any sexual contact for the rest of the weekend was off the cards.

I was in the doghouse, and probably deserved it.


Update: We had sex last Friday night (just gone) so the 'Friday Curse' is broken. I'll tell you all about that tomorrow.

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