Shame on me; bad blogger! I knew I hadn’t posted for awhile, but I was absolutely shocked to come back today and discover it’s been more than six months. I haven’t blogged because there’s been nothing relevant to blog about. The dresses, canes, strap on, and cock cage have been tucked away on their shelves for a long time.
The decline started with C’s epididymitis about a year ago. That condition has never fully gone away, and once orgasm denial became a health issue, everything else pretty much fell away.
There’s a good blog post in there somewhere, about everything depending on the release of some semen, power exchange depending on it, maybe the world would be different if we just examine the importance of the male orgasm, how if we just controlled this one little thing – the penis – the whole fucking world could be different… I don’t have the energy or research to write it, but it does make my daydreams more interesting.
Once the kinky sex quieted, the vanilla sex became nonexistent, and that is how C and I found ourselves going the last two months without having any sex, of any kind (let’s remember, intercourse is but one form of sex). We weren’t fighting or anything, we just haven’t made sex a priority (or even an option). We have plenty of things keeping us busy or tired, but all couples have things that keep them busy and tired, so that’s a really lame excuse.
C grew a beard. He’s cute with a beard, but I don’t like how it scratches my face (never mind scratching my thighs; until last night, he hadn’t been between my thighs in ages). Then I noticed that he’d stopped shaving the rest of his body, too. He’d always shaved his arms, legs, and chest, partly because he doesn’t like body hair (his own) and partly because he (and I) prefer how he looks dressed when he’s clean shaven. Seeing the hair grow on his legs and arms made me sad; it meant Christie was far away, and for the foreseeable future.
- When you Google “bearded man in a dress,” a photo of Donald Sutherland (not pictured) – not in a dress – comes up.
The one thing I refuse to lose hold of is the FLR. He hates it when I assert it, but that’s part of it, anyway, so I don’t care. There are many reasons, both sexual and non, kinky and vanilla, that an FLR is what suits us best. For starters, there are things in our relationship that throw off the balance of power and equality in his favor, and the FLR helps even the scales. So, I hold onto the FLR, even if it’s not nearly as pronounced as it once was.
Naturally, I began to worry about why we weren’t gettin’ it on. I know that long-term relationships have dips in sexual activity, but we’ve only been together four and a half years and only married for eight months. I didn’t expect a total dry spell this soon. What could it all mean? I’ve put on weight since last fall and I feel like shit (which is one reason my libido has taken a vacation), but he’s attracted to fat chicks… I don’t know. My mind went places, that’s all I’m saying.
Last night, though, perhaps the mystery was solved. C shared with me that he’s been masturbating and orgasming. When we were hot and heavy into things, he was forbidden to masturbate. As things waned, I told him to just ask for permission. My intention was that we would at least have that little moment of connecting sexually – that his pleasure was still at my will, and his continuing to ask would signal his participation in working with me to keep things going, however minimal.
If we hadn’t established orgasm denial and male submission as defining our sex life, I wouldn’t care that he’s masturbating without me. I don’t think masturbation is cheating or that it’s a sign he’s not interested in me or any of the other things that some women freak out about. But, this is different. This is the gradual and now-complete death of the express agreement we had about our relationship.
Remember that thing I said about the power of the male orgasm? I know my C. This blog is full of posts of my examining the direct relationship between his orgasming and his willingness to submit to me. The simple fact is, C has been coming without me, so fighting through the busy-ness and tiredness and general “life gets in the way” bullshit to get the energy to prioritize sex with me isn’t even on the radar.
I’m disappointed, but not mad. I share the blame, because I’ve neglected our sex life, too. All I know for sure is that I love C in a way that isn’t conditioned on sex. We will be fine and this too shall pass.
I just want to get naked with my husband a few times a week. If he’s in a dress at the time, that’s just a bonus.