It's Cold Inside

Recently my wife said we had to talk about our sex life. She  had texted me that from the other room. So I joined her in the room where she was, and then found out she'd been expecting it to be a text conversation. I should have left the room right then and I'd have a verbatim account of the conversation to share with you. My memory is excellent though.

I knew from past conversations that this would be her telling me things and me agreeing. Anything else, such as me disagreeing or me telling her things or making requests would  result in things getting worse.

To briefly recap what's going on as I've previously explained here, we are having sex about once every three weeks or less now, and the sex is generally not as enjoyable for me as it was with a couple of girlfriends and flings I had in my wayward youth. I don't dare tell her that, though.

Thankfully, she didn't take the opportunity of this conversation to state again that she doesn't really like sex or eliminate anything from menu of acceptable elements/acts, which is narrow enough as it is.

Her requests were simple enough:

More Attempts to Arrange the Deck Chairs

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Craving

This is another entry on sex. If you can't handle that, then click away.

Through what is these days a rare confluence of events, my wife went to bed for sleep the same time I did the other night. This allowed us to have some quality time together, alone, without there being a time limit. Unfortunately some of her body is still off-limits. The upside of this (uh, no pun intended) is that such a situation forces me to get creative and act like we are making out with boundaries... because we are. This time, that meant spending a lot of time kissing, nibbling, and otherwise using my mouth and fingers to create sensations on/in her mouth and all about her head and neck.

That's a lot of fun, and gets very passionate. (Try it sometime if you have been married a while and the lovemaking is getting routine. Just stick to kissing and touching from the neck up for as long as you can stand to not to anything else.)

She was really digging it, and I was manually trying to bring her to orgasm even though she was covered "down there".

Unfortunately, there are times when my wife just can't quite get there, even without being covered. She thinks it has something to do with her disability, and she swears it isn't a problem for her, despite advice from a woman I once read in a lad mag that said it wasn't OK to not bring her to the big O (in other words, the advice was ALWAYS bring her to the big O).

In my past relationships, my partner almost always got there. I have told my wife, just like I have told all of my previous partners: never, ever fake it. If it just isn't going to happen, tell me. If I need to do something different, tell me. But faking it is a very bad idea.

For me, it is much more difficult to get a woman there (and my wife is the only woman that matters in that respect now) if I can't get d0wn there with my mouth. And even when my wife just isn't going to reach that peak, I still enjoy "practicing" that way. I don't know how I got like this, but there's almost nothing I enjoy more.

Anyway, it was a good time. Certainly better than nothing, and better than simply having her "work" to get me off out of a sense of duty. When I'm not permitted to reciprocate I feel an obligation to make it end as soon as possible, and so it is less enjoyable. That, unfortunately, has been what has been going on for a while now due to temporary conditions.

Bottom line: I look forward to when I can return to having my wife's thighs clamp my head.