I Live In a Sexless Marriage
This story was prompted by the following conversation:
Me: "Sounds familiar: lights must be out, it's too cold to take off everything, the neighbors or a drive-by cop will hear the moans, me-on-top-are-you-kidding, missionary rules, your junk does not belong in my mouth, can't believe it's been only half an hour (or three weeks) and you'd like another serving, the whole gamut. "
OP: "Do you know my wife? My god, you described her to a T."
Decades back, while a kid, I was reading a sci-fi book about an alien visit. The aliens drop by a farm. The ranch dogs sense the scents are not quite right, they get ferocious, and they bite one of the aliens (who have of course assumed human form) in the leg. The protagonist, who is the farmer's son, notices that the "person" is not bleeding! He expresses surprise at this. Immediately, the alien grabs his leg and says "You did not look carefully. Look, I am bleeding very badly. Can you find some cloth to bandage it until I find a doctor?" And sure enough, the kid saw blood oozing all over.
You know where this is going. My spouse started her short career in intimacy by lying like a log or corpse. After quite some nerving myself to say something embarrassing and possibly offensive, I mumbled something like "I am curious why you do not moan in pleasure. I have heard people having sex usually do that. You know I do." And she goes, "Oh, I see, I must have been sleepy." And thereafter, if she is in the mood, some little moaning would be served up. Some months later I squirm around saying "Do you feel like gyrating and thrusting your hips? Because I have read most people like to do that." And she went "May be you don't feel it because you are on top". But in some sessions to follow, there's a little more action around the hips. This business of programming the desired response got fairly creepy. In only one aspect, the programming was not so effective: when she claimed she climaxed, I sensed nothing specific about the moment. No twitching of limbs or face, no curling of toes, no vocalization, nothing I can feel down south. But, having had no other partner (and now having no plan to do so) I have no idea how normal all the above are, seeing as "each women is different" (with the implicit adjunct that "all men are about the same").
Anyway, I wasted years pondering if she was human or alien, badly hampered by a sampling rate of once in two months. And every time I brought up lame questions like above, it got clearer and clearer that coitus was largely or entirely for my benefit, so I had to take the trouble to write down a detailed spec of what I wanted. Then I realized that you can actually dissociate the decision of whether you are enjoying it from the factual detail of who or what you are doing: human, alien, or goat.
Me: "Sounds familiar: lights must be out, it's too cold to take off everything, the neighbors or a drive-by cop will hear the moans, me-on-top-are-you-kidding, missionary rules, your junk does not belong in my mouth, can't believe it's been only half an hour (or three weeks) and you'd like another serving, the whole gamut. "
OP: "Do you know my wife? My god, you described her to a T."
Decades back, while a kid, I was reading a sci-fi book about an alien visit. The aliens drop by a farm. The ranch dogs sense the scents are not quite right, they get ferocious, and they bite one of the aliens (who have of course assumed human form) in the leg. The protagonist, who is the farmer's son, notices that the "person" is not bleeding! He expresses surprise at this. Immediately, the alien grabs his leg and says "You did not look carefully. Look, I am bleeding very badly. Can you find some cloth to bandage it until I find a doctor?" And sure enough, the kid saw blood oozing all over.
You know where this is going. My spouse started her short career in intimacy by lying like a log or corpse. After quite some nerving myself to say something embarrassing and possibly offensive, I mumbled something like "I am curious why you do not moan in pleasure. I have heard people having sex usually do that. You know I do." And she goes, "Oh, I see, I must have been sleepy." And thereafter, if she is in the mood, some little moaning would be served up. Some months later I squirm around saying "Do you feel like gyrating and thrusting your hips? Because I have read most people like to do that." And she went "May be you don't feel it because you are on top". But in some sessions to follow, there's a little more action around the hips. This business of programming the desired response got fairly creepy. In only one aspect, the programming was not so effective: when she claimed she climaxed, I sensed nothing specific about the moment. No twitching of limbs or face, no curling of toes, no vocalization, nothing I can feel down south. But, having had no other partner (and now having no plan to do so) I have no idea how normal all the above are, seeing as "each women is different" (with the implicit adjunct that "all men are about the same").
Anyway, I wasted years pondering if she was human or alien, badly hampered by a sampling rate of once in two months. And every time I brought up lame questions like above, it got clearer and clearer that coitus was largely or entirely for my benefit, so I had to take the trouble to write down a detailed spec of what I wanted. Then I realized that you can actually dissociate the decision of whether you are enjoying it from the factual detail of who or what you are doing: human, alien, or goat.
By:
ulae
Age:
41-45
