31/12/2013 @ 4.39 pm

Sex and Me

I thought she didn’t want sex on weekdays, especially after working.  In the past (i.e., before marriage), we tended to just lie in bed on the weekdays that we met, after I had picked her up from DAS.  On weekends, we had sex.  Her energy levels seemed lower on weekdays, and at night, generally.

It felt like she would only want sex on an impulse and after a dearth of sex for a while.   I thought that suited me fine, Mr. Sex-Is-Overrated-Live-Gigs-Are-Better.

In the beginning, I would want sex more…but as I didn’t want to make her feel pressured, I didn’t make a meal out of it.  Indirectly, I adapted to her patterns and desensitised my needs.  I thought that was fine because I didn't want to scare her with a crazed sexual appetite - and besides, this was a girl I found so incredibly attractive in other ways.  I didn't think I should just treat her as an object...or make her feel that way.

In the beginning, sex with her was pure and unadulterated.  As in, I still watched porn, but only before sex with her (I theorised that it would keep me going for longer when we actually did it, and by and large it worked), and only after sex with her (i.e., the next day or so when we didn’t meet).  During sex itself, it was pure and unadulterated because my focus was always on her. I would keep my eyes open and check her out in every way I could, unless she opened her eyes and didn't like me staring.   I even remember one time (it might have been the day we made a commitment to take our haphazard encounter forward to a real relationship), I experienced the deepest physical encounter with her through sex than I ever had with anyone  – and I shared that moment with her by asking her as I was still inside of her if she “felt it too” (and she said yes).  When I look back at the reasons why I thought of her as a wife, and would propose to her, that moment ranks quite highly on the list.

Things that turned me on: her willingness to pleasure me for a good length of time; her own indulgence in sex; what she wore (short denim skirts, bangles) – these made a significant difference to me, because they just turn me on.  I smiled so hard to myself every time I thought of how I didn’t have to change her dress sense, she was already wearing these things that turn me on (one of the things I always look for in a relationship, is not having to change a person and therefore it works so perfectly when that person is everything you looked for...in this instance, for my sexual gratification).

Things that didn't please me so much: her unwillingness to french, pleasure/be pleasured around the ears, and various more arcane acts of sexuality.  It didn't worry me much, because of the things that turned me on, and I was very happy with what she gave me in other aspects.

In the beginning, sex was great.  It felt recreational and, at the same time, meaningful.  She would go wash off after sex (usually it’s the men who go first), and we would then lie down next to each other and talk random talk…occasionally peering out through the window to look out into other apartments or the stars.  It felt surreal and beautiful.  Sex was meant to be as simple as this. 

In marriage, sex was not so great. 

I tended to be tired on weekdays, from the work exhaustion.  In that exhaustion, it was also harder to perform, invariably because of the porn, which I had continued to use on the justification that she would go through an unusually long period (1 week or longer sometimes) and I needed to jack off somewhere.  Then came gaming (which I had stopped completely for a good 3-4 months before the urge came back again).

Her pattern of feeling tired on weekdays because of work now seemed to coincide with mine.  At first, I did try to initiate sex on weekdays but it didn’t surprise me when she seemed disinterested…and so I adapted to her, again.  Only this time, I figured that I was also affected by work exhaustion.  This was my mind rationalising, and in so doing, I missed the starting signs of our emotional deterioration.

On weekends, the moments of sexual desire were random.  In my head, I was definitely inclined for sex (I love my wife and find her very attractive) – but on Saturdays she worked and seemed disinterested in sex.  On Sundays, we had family commitments and this also seemed to sap her of energy.  It would usually be in the late weekend afternoon that we would be lying in bed and she would initiate sex.  My mind set at that time was generally tired – I don’t nap much and my heightened sexual moments are in the morning or at night.  Afternoons are a very strange timing for me.  I mean in the beginning, we did it at night when we met. Afternoons are not me.  But it was her.

And when her moments came on, I didn’t want to lose it.  So I willed myself to perform.  Initially, I did perform – I found that even if I didn’t like the moment, or what she was wearing (usually just plain clothes), I could focus on her being my wife.  That's actually the reason I never felt porn was bad per se - I regarded it as my litmus test of whether I felt love for a woman or not...in that, if I had to fantasise while I'm doing it, then that's not the girl I love...and with her, I passed the test.   

Once, I didn’t perform – I might have just “done it” with porn a while earlier and I found it difficult to stay hard, even though she was turning me on.  The pressure of not disappointing her overcame me, yet it only made me fail miserably.  I tried to the point of exhaustion, couldn’t, and gave up.  The ensuing moment was one of total devastation, anguish, guilt and shame.  I wanted to say something, apologise, have her understand the pained emotions I was going through, for letting her down….but I couldn’t bring myself to.  I was crushed at the thought of having made her feel insufficient…and instead, I brushed it aside and pretended like it was nothing…and determined in my mind that the next time I would really perform.  The next time (a week later or so, also on a weekend afternoon), we tried again, and I didn’t perform – it was the pressure, and the fact that because we don’t generally get off on weekdays, I watch porn every day of the weekday.  I felt horrible, and this time I determined in my head that I would not allow sex unless I was “ready”.  

I am conscious that after that day, I started to actively avoid sex when I could, thinking avoidance was far better than disappointment.  I was fearful to give her any impression that it was her or there was a problem with our relationship.  To compound matters, I went to seek further refuge in porn...so I could check myself for virility, not knowing it would only be counter-productive.   And finally, I made passive-aggressive gestures to ask her to wear what I liked...simply because I wanted to feel in touch with my masculinity again. I felt so sure that her compliance would lead us back to sex again, and then with my confidence restored, we could talk about my insecurities.  That day may never come.

Postscript: read up on “morning wood” and came to the conclusion that I have never experienced that.  A testament to the gravity of my affliction.