Woman On Top

I posted this article a few days ago, thought better of it, pulled it, and now, well, I think I'm going to post it anyway.  I've got no one I can talk to.  I've got to begin to heal myself, so it means assuming a little anonymity here and stepping out on faith that someone will read, take the time to get to know me and help me.

So I'll open with a huge WARNING:

This blog talks about old married sex.  Not glamorous, not cosmopolitan, not even imaginative sex.  Old . . . married . . . sex.  So if you don't want to read about my struggles to understand my husband and myself, you definitely shouldn't read any further.  If you're the slightest bit curious about someone else's sex life besides your own, this may be the spot for you.

I've known for a little while that my husband needs a mom--a mother.  Someone to think he's wonderful no matter what he does.  Farts and all.  Someone that pretty much lets him do whatever he wants when he wants as long as he doesn't get in the way.  Someone he can wear down until he has everything just the way he wants it.

Hmmm.

Pretty much what he had from his own mother. 

She thinks he's wonderful.

I know better.

So a week ago in my ongoing effort to be more sexually overt I suggested we have sex.  I suggested it the same way last Friday.  In plenty of time to get showers and smell good for each other.  (I told you this was old married sex)  Last Friday my suggestion was greeted with a disgruntled sigh and the suggestion we make it quick because he has to get up early in the morning.  So this Friday, knowing he didn't have to get up as early, I suggested sex again.  He seemed all too quick to point out that oh yes, indeed, he did have to get up in the morning and if that's what I wanted to do, we should probably get started.

It just didn't set well with me.  What is going on here?  That is two Fridays in a row he's seemed disinterested in sex.  What man turns down sex?

So Sunday, I did some things I know he likes and we did eventually end up having sex.  I was the definitely the aggressor and the instigator.  I think it was more because there was nothing else to do.  If any sport had been on, I would have been out of luck.

What you have to realize is we went 18 months without having sex.  That's a year and a half.  When I mentioned how long it had been, he denied it.  When I pointed out the truth, he still didn't seem to want to believe it.  There have been many times when we've gone three, four and five months without sex and I was sure it was my fault--now I'm not so sure.  Certainly other couples were having sex more often than once or twice a year?

I think he wants it when he wants it.  On his timing and the position he wants.  I don't get  a say.  I don't think he likes it when I take the lead or suggest it.  I think he wants me to be a tramp in bed, writhing and moaning and getting so much pleasure from his two or three things he does (every time)--but only when he wants.  On his terms.  I think I've been a fool thinking that we'd have sex more if I suggested sex more.  He doesn't want it if I instigate it.  He doesn't want it if I'm the initiator.  Oh, wait, I can be the initiator if he wants me to be the initiator.  What a mess.  I'm only supposed to like and want it when he wants me to like it and want it.  Last but not least.  I'm not supposed to reject his advances.  If he gets the slightest idea that I might say no--which I never do--he won't suggest any sex.  He shuts down.

So my prologue to this is that I offered him the "other" on Wednesday night.  I'm embarrassed to type it, so I will call it the "other".  I offered that two nights ago.  He hopped into bed.  The "other" is usually pretty quick because--well--I know what to do.  I asked him if he was clean.  He says he thought I was kidding.  I said I wasn't.  I half expected him to jump out of bed and get a quick shower to freshen up.  Instead he says he's not clean, he'll definitely take a shower later in the evening so he'll be clean.  He promised to think about it all day Thursday and would be ready on Thursday night.

Hmmm.  Again, what is going on here?

As you can tell my looking at the timeline here, It's Friday--again.  I did not offer the "other".  Instead, he stayed up until 10:45 on the computer.  I'll admit there were some other things going on in the house at that time, but there have been quite a few nights in the last three weeks he as stayed up until 11:00 reading or on the computer, but he tells me we better make it quick because he has to get up in the morning.  He gets up the same time every morning.

For him, there is only on and off.  He won't do anything sexual unless he can be absolutely sure beyond a shadow of a doubt we are going to have sex.  He's told me so.  No making out, no fooling around, period.  What the heck is that?

I'm not going to go the rest of my life having sex on his schedule--on his terms.  That's a crock.

I do want to add here for those that may be thinking it's because I've let myself go, or I've gotten fat or whatever junk you might fill your own mind with.  I've been a size 16/18 for years and years.  Before that I was a size 13/14 for the early part of our relationship.  I was a size 10 when we got married.

I was 20.

I've always been a big girl by society's standards.  He knew that.  I think I carry it well and with confidence.  If he had a problem with my weight, he probably wouldn't have been attracted to me to begin with--24 years ago.

I can't spend anymore time on this topic.  I'm frustrated.  Not because of what I've written here, but because it symbolizes everything our lives have been.