Tuesday, June 07, 2005
I'm pouting, I know. I haven't been bitchy about it, maybe just quiet. EH has asked me 500 times what's wrong and nothing IS wrong. I'm just...frustrated.
It's so hard when my "mojo" kicks in and all I can think about is sex, sex acts, sex talk, sex, sex, sex. Meanwhile, EH is just...there. He's not refusing. Should I press for it, he would not say no. But neither does he encourage, react or exploit.
The best way I can describe the situation is this: I make ho-hum dinners every night. Meatloaf. Chicken. Spaghetti. Suddenly, I get the urge to really dazzle and begin serving Beef Wellington, Rib Roasts, Seared Mahi-Mahi with baby escallops in a french cream sauce...and EH is reacting as if I were still placing meatloaf on the table. "(yawn) Ho-hum. Looks good. (silent chewing)"
Anyone who's read this blog for any length of time knows part of the ongoing battle in this marriage is mismatched sex drives - and reversed ones at that. I'm in perpetual high-gear with a few rare exceptions and EH is...well, not. Not at all. Not even a little. Just...not. EH truly believes that to even attempt to fulfill my every whim would kill a healthy man.
And he's the one who had the cyber-affair? Shocking, isn't it?
I've had affairs before. Never while married, but still - I'm familiar with the ropes. I know my way around the illicit better than most. But I sit, silently seething in sexual frustration beside EH because I'm in love with him. Sure, when I get in this state I can't be within 100 yards of a male without being finely tuned in to every movement he makes, but I behave myself. I restrain myself.
I'd be a liar if I didn't admit that the words "grudge fuck" never entered my mind. A seriously naughty encounter that EH would be guaranteed to find out about to punish him. Let him feel the hurt. Let him live with the doubts. Let him question everything he knew. But, I just can't. It's a line I never want to cross.
So...I just sit and seethe. Because I can't make EH's sex drive go from 0 to anything over 2, much less 200. It's just the way he's built. He enjoys it, but he forgets it even exists most of the time.
I've had opportunities. Things said or done that made my entire inside light up like a 4-alarm blaze. That feeling in your stomach when someone boldly propositions you or admits to desiring you. The way your mind twists it around for weeks on end, imagining it. And it feels damned good...it consumes you. It makes you stand taller, hold your stomach tighter, walk with a bit more of a swing...it makes you feel alive.
No one thrives on that feeling more than I do. Prior to EH I was a junkie - chasing that feeling. EH in my life was a side-effect of chasing that feeling, as was every man before him. I was a master...I seduced every man that remotely appealed to me without fail. I had it down. I knew the game.
It would be so easy. I can see the marks around me. I know exactly who I could crook a finger at and have them jump at the chance. It wouldn't even take a word. Not an ounce of effort...
You think I don't know the lure of illicit sex? You'd be wrong. You think I don't want it? Wrong again, I can practically taste it. You think I couldn't? Wrong, wrong, wrong...one move, one nod, one breath and I could have it right now...no one would ever know except me and one other...A secret. A lovely, dirty, dark secret that would make me feel so very nice...
And...I've gotten carried away. Because I won't. I'll go slightly insane waiting for my husband to indulge me.
The feeling I mentioned, the thrill, the rush, the sensation...it would all be so temporary. It wouldn't be there the way EH is day after day, night after night.
I'd rather have EH in my life. But I make sacrifices too. I fight the temptations too. And sometimes it takes a lot of energy. Anyone would be a fool to think that just because I preach about cheating being wrong I don't feel the urges.
In fact, in all likelihood, I feel them much stronger than most. Much.
pout. pout. pout.
Posted by Red ::
6:30 AM ::