Good Memories! (Oh, and Hey!)

Cande at "Diary of an Online Stripper" has a post up, titled Moregasms; as usual, it's very hot. She and her lover are fucking, and she's had several orgasms already, when he tells her about the time he fucked her as she was sleeping. That reminded me of the following:

Back in the mid 90s, and I think it was after the wife caught me cheating, the wife was working a lot of overtime hours. They were on mandatory 9 hours a day and could volunteer for 10, which she did, plus she would work 4 to 6 hours on the weekend when they let her. Unfortunately, that meant she was almost always too exhausted for sex, but I didn't complain too much; I was working steady at the time too, and for the first time in our lives we had real, disposable income without many debts, and was actually saving money. (That's since gone all to hell, but that's a different story.)

She'd usually leave significantly earlier than me in the mornings, which gave me plenty of time to browse the Bulletin Board Services (BBS; anybody remember those?) for whatever porn was availalbe. Modems back then were slow compared to today, so I was limited to images smaller than 50K or so; forget about GIFs or video clips! On a few occassions I'd sneakily rub another one out at night after the wife fell asleep, if I could get out of bed and into the computer room without waking her. She knew I was jacking it and for the most part was okay with it, but I tried not to make it too obvious because she felt bad about not doing (what she considered to be) her duty.

[Aside - I miss those days in my 30s when I could stroke myself to orgasm every morning, sometimes twice in the same day if I had time, and still be able to fuck the wife that night if she was up for it. These days, if I suspect the wife wants to have sex, I have to abstain from jacking off for a day or two in order to be ready. Frankly, I'd rather just jack off; it's quicker, less frustrating, and I don't have to worry about staying hard the whole time. I don't know if that's a commentary on growning older, or on just how it is in some marriages after 25+ years. - End aside]

One night I was horny as hell, with a hardon that would not go down. I thought about getting on the computer to take care of it, but it was late and I had to work the next day and I thought I should just go on to sleep. I would have just pounded it out right there, but I didn't have a cum towell on my side of the bed and didn't want to make a mess. Figuring it would go down eventually, I turned on my side and snuggled up big-spoon-style against the wife. Since we both sleep nude, this left me with my still hard cock nestled right up between the wife's butt cheeks which was not going to be an optimum way to make my hardon go away. I turned over to the other side and tried to sleep.

But dammit, I couldn't get comfortable on that side (my shoulder was aching) and, let's face it, my hardon was distracting the hell out of me! I rolled back over and snuggled up to the wife again, and tried to find some spot for my dick that wasn't right up next to where it wanted to be. Because I was so hard, though, I simply could not bend it in any way that was comfortable, so back between her but cheeks I went.

Now in that position, with me lying up higher than her, my dick was still being pressed down uncomfortably between us. I found that if I scootched down a bit, it would stick more upward position and still be between her thighs, right at the triangle area. Of course this also felt much better, and wasn't helping the situation any with how horny I was. I was starting to get tired myself, though, so I figured I'd drop right off, and sure enough I did...

for about 20 minutes. I woke up, still hard, and now my pre-cum was making things feel really interesting! My cock tends to drool quite a bit, and I discovered I was able to glide pretty well between the wife's thighs, with the top of my dick head rubbing across her mons. I probably could have even got off that way, but now I was getting ideas (and, yes, a little bit greedy.) I pulled back far enough to get my fingers down there, and oh so gently spreak my pre-cum around to her opening. When I felt that things were ready enough, I slowly got the head of my cock back in position and started to push forward. The pre-cum still on my cock, mixed with what I'd spread around her pussy, was really working well, and I knew I'd be in soon!

But it wasn't to be; still sleeping, she turned towards me, almost lying on her back (and also flinging her arm over and whacking me in the face!) I tried nudging her to roll her back over, but she was having none of that and stayed that way long enough that I eventually fell back to sleep. I vowed then that I would always have a cum towel on my side of the bed!

The next morning, I sheepishly told the wife about what had happened while we had our coffee. She laughed about it, and apologized for being too tired and said maybe I'd get lucky that night. I assured her that it wasn't her fault, and I apologized for having almost (in my mind) violated her without her consent. She laughed and said "I don't care, as long as you don't wake me up."

That night the wife fell asleep again before I could even start making any moves, but this time I was prepared; I had a cum towel. I thought about trying to fuck her while she slept, but I was tired too (not having gotten much sleep the night before) so I just rubbed one out and used the towel to clean up. The next morning she asked if I'd done anything, and I told her I "handled it" (giggity) myself. She actually seemed a little disappointed and again told me that she didn't care if I fucked her while she slept.

That night as we lay in bed I thought we were going to have sex. We were kissing while she stroked me and I played with her nipples, and I had another raging boner rarin' to go! But she was dozing off and pretty soon told me goodnight, rolled over, and within ten minutes was snoring. I watched TV for about 20 minutes, stroking my dick just enough to keep it hard. Tonight I was definitely going to fuck the wife while she slept, and I'd even got permission! Of course I had to be careful not to wake her, as that wouldn't be fair to her and, honestly, would kind of take the edge off of it.

When I determined she was in a pretty deep sleep, I turned to her and, like the first night, scootched down to give my cock the right angle. I again had enough pre-cum going to make sliding between her thighs at the triangle very pleasurable, and after a few minutes of that I reached down to move some of the wetness around. I don't know if it was just that I was producing more pre-cum or not, but she was already pretty wet, and I played with her with my fingers for a minute or two. I'd go about a knuckle deep into her pussy, then pull out and push it forward to tweek her clit a bit. I was still being mindful of going slow and gently to not wake her up, but it was definitely a lot of fun!

I figured that was enough of that, and it was time to get on with the show! I snuggled back up to her and pushed my dick forward... and she rolled over again! I was afraid she'd woken up, but she kept on snoring so I figured I was safe enough. But what was I going to do now! I tried nudging her over, but that didn't work any better than it had the first night so I gave that up. Thinking it wasn't going to happen, I had decided that I'd just rub one out and go to sleep. But, since she was in the position she was (on her back, lying up against me) I thought I'd play with her nipples and maybe rub her clit a little bit first. I didn't want to be the only one waking up frustrated the next morning!

Her nipples were already good and hard, and I was even able to get my lips and tongue to the right one to suck on it a little. When I reached down to her pussy, though, her legs were pretty tight together and I couldn't get much play in. I tried gently easing her legs apart, but in her sleep she was not being compliant at all! I ended up rubbing her bush just above her pussy, but that wasn't very satisfying.

Suddenly, she stirred and rolled over on her side again! She muttered something unintelligible, ground her teeth for a bit, then started snoozing again. I waited, almost breathlessly, for two or three minutes before getting back in position. I touched around her pussy opening to make sure she was still nice and lubed (she was!) and put my cock in the triangle area and started moving back and forth. When things were nice and slick I pulled back to try to line everything up, pushed forward, and slipped right back to the same position. Not that it felt bad, but I wasn't in her! I tried several more times, over a period of seven or eight minutes, but everytime I thought I was going to get in this time, my dick would slide past the opening again. Even when I tried assisting with my hand, pointing him more forcefully towards his goal (ever mindful of being gentle and not waking the wife up) it just wasn't happening.

I took a moment to assess the situation and figure out what was wrong. I'd been so focused on getting my cock in her pussy that I hadn't paid as much attention to her body position. When I thought about it a bit, I realized that her top (right) leg was not on her bottom (left) leg but was pushed forward past it just a little. That meant I wasn't lined up right relative to her; that's why I couldn't get in. I thought if I raised up on my elbow and thrust my hips up a bit, I could maybe get the angle right. I was leaner, and in better shape back then, but even so it was a tall order, and it just wasn't happening.

I lay back down and thought I'd try one more time to get it in, and if it didn't work I'd jack off and call it a night. I lined up without much real hope, and pushed forward, pushing up a little harder on my dick than I had before. I was right at her opening, but couldn't quite get the head to pop in, and I don't mind telling you I was almost on the point of tears with the frustration. I was just going to give up when she shifted slightly, putting her right leg on top of her left.

Oh.My.God! That little movement was enough, and I was suddenly buried to the hilt in my wife's warm, wet, inviting pussy! Oh.My.GAWD! I almost came right then and there, just from the sheer ecstasy of working at it for so long, getting almost to the point of giving up, and suddenly finding myself there! I paused for a few seconds to make sure she wasn't awake; her breathing was just as before, slow and steady with a light snore. When I'd calmed down a bit, and wasn't in danger of coming, I started slowly fucking her.

Everything was wet and squelchy, and warm, and I'd been so goddamned horny! I knew I wasn't going to last long, so I reached behind me for my cum towel so I could minimize the mess. It wasn't there! I remembered I'd used it the night before and thrown it in the hamper. The wife had two or three on her side of the bed, but I couldn't reach them from where I was, obviously! I spent several moments considering my options, while continuing to alternate between fucking her and stopping to avoid coming. Originally I'd intended to pull out and come into a towel to minimuze the mess. As soon as I'd buried my cock in her pussy, I knew I was going to come in her, but still needed a towel to clean up. I thought about just coming, then getting up for the towel but that was going to make for a hell of a wet spot, and I'm nothing if not considerate!

I'd reached the point where I knew I couldn't push my luck much further; no amount of baseball stats or thinking of mutilated Barbie dolls was going to keep me from blowing my load soon. I reluctantlly pulled out of the wife and slowly eased out of bed, and crept over to her side, wang swinging back and forth, to get a towel. I went back to my side of the bed and eased back under the covers, towel at the ready, and got back in position. I'd decided that if I had any trouble getting back in her pussy I'd just jack off into the towel. I considered myself lucky to have gotten what I had, and though I wanted to get back in, if it didn... holy shit, I was back in! I slid in without any problems whatsoever, and it was heavenly as it was the first time! Two pumps later I came so hard my nuts ached! I was gripping the wifes hips, pulling her hard back into me; I don't know how she didn't wake up from that.

When my spasms subsided, I worked the towel down to our joined genitals and slowly pulled back and out. I wanted to catch as much of the cum as I could, but it was still just a mess. I made some half-hearted attempts to wipe the wife clean and get up any that might have gotten on the bed, but it was now going on midnight and I was spent! I chucked the towel in the direction of the hamper (missed it, of course) and fell promptly asleep.

The next morning, the wife's alarm woke us both up at the same time. I was still snuggling her, and kissed her on the neck. She asked "Did you do anything?" but before I answered she reached down and felt her pussy. "Uh, yea, I guess you did! It's messy!" I chuckled and apologized, and got up for another towel to help her clean up. I tried to talk her into letting me help her get off, but she declined saying she had to get ready for work. She seemed pleased, despite the mess, that I'd done it and was impressed that I hadn't woke her up.

Soon her work got caught up, and she wasn't working as much overtime, so we were able to get back to semi-regular sex. Still, over the years, I would occassionaly try to fuck her while she slept, but always with her consent. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn't, but it was fun trying either way. Sex when we both wanted it and were both awake was better, but it was a nice thrill now and then to know I was getting off on (and in) her while she was unaware of it.

I haven't done that in a long time now, and most likely won't again, but damn it was good when it works!

Look Who's Back

Hello? tap tap Is this thing on?

Hey, y’all; is there anybody out there? Will anybody know I posted this?

Well, maybe it doesn’t matter. This blog was always meant to be my way of (mostly) anonymously venting about my problems. Sure I wanted readers, and praise for my writing when it was deserved (or even if it wasn’t.) And I guess a part of me hopes that some of you will read this and be happy that I posted something.

Let me catch up on some things, I guess. I made it through the winter months fairly well; the winter blues didn’t do me in like they have in the past. I don’t know what was different this year than in the past; maybe just a better attitude about things in general, and not being so hard on myself or so easily frustrated with the wife.

I haven’t lost the weight I’ve been trying to lose for two-plus years now. I get down a little bit, then I go off the rails again and put it all back on (with interest!) That doesn’t stop me from trying, though, and this time I will do better! Or not; we’ll see.

Back in March the wife went to Germany for 2 weeks. I’ve been encouraging her to go for some time because her mother is in bad health. Not only is she physically declining, she has dementia and it’s really starting to show. So I’ve told the wife that she needs to go while she can, but she kept refusing. But her sisters insisted, and even offered to buy the tickets (assuming, I suppose, that I am too poor to buy her a ticket) and that was enough to convince her.

She was gone for two weeks, and though I’ve been good since last year I have to admit that my first thought was to wonder if some shenanigans could ensue. Twice I was able to spend uninterrupted time with L, and we could have done anything we wanted (B was at work and we had the house to ourselves) but she wasn’t buying what I was selling. Hell, I couldn’t even give it away!

And I was actually fine with that. We had a good time together both evenings, and things seemed fine for the most part between us. I’m a little pissed about something she said (concerning the wife), and it would seem to indicate that there’s not much chance that we’ll ever be as close as we were before, but I suppose we’ll continue to get along well enough.

Meanwhile, Simplicity suggested that we get together for a platonic dinner (respecting my wish to be good), so we met on a Saturday evening to grab a bite. I wanted to try out a newish place between both of our cities and she agreed. When we got there I was worried that I might have made a mistake, because it didn’t look like much of anything from the outside. Inside was a little better, but still had a “cafeteria” feel to it (for my part.) But the food was actually pretty darn good, and they had beer (for me) and some girly drink (for Simplicity) that I can’t remember the name of.

After eating, we walked around the block a few times, then we decided to head back to where we’d met. During the drive we held hands and continued talking, and I finally admitted that I’d wanted to kiss her all night. (Actually, I may or may not have used the word “fuck” but I’m not certain.) The feeling was clearly mutual, so I decided to swing by the old office to see if anyone was there. Nobody was there, fortunately, so we went inside, locked the doors, and kept the lights off. Kissing led to touching and biting and licking and pulling clothes off and sucking and fucking and it was hot and wet and dirty and so goddamned good and over too quick.

We cleaned up as best we could and straightened up furniture that might have been moved around a bit, then left giggling and feeling good. I dropped Simplicity off at her car after another kiss goodnight and slept better that night than I had all week, I think.

Sunday afternoon, though, Simplicity started being mean to me. She texted me saying that she was eating Mexican food; normally that would have been okay, but I was having a few beers and smoking a cigar, and I immediately started craving Mexican food. I don’t like going to restaurants alone, plus I’d been drinking, so here I am with a craving and nothing to do about it! When she later texted that they were having margaritas, I couldn’t take it and called her a heartless bitch! (All in good fun, of course.)

The girl I used to work with a few years ago, the one I wrote briefly about before in a post called “The Saint Patrick’s Day Massacre”, and I also had a “date” the following Friday night. I’ve had a crush on her for a while, but always figured my chances were nil after that afore-mentioned massacre (I finally got the nerve to tell her I was interested and she gently shot me down.) I texted her on a whim to see how things were going, and thought about asking if she’d like to get some dinner. I didn’t expect anything to happen, but you never know, right?

As it happens, she virtually invited me to go out; she made it a point for me to know that she was free the upcoming weekend (her ex-boyfriend would have their daughter), and when I kind of zoned on that obvious hint she said “So if you’re bored while the wife is away and want to do anything, let me know!” Even I’m not that dense, so we made arrangements to go to dinner.

I was admittedly preoccupied with thoughts of what might happen, and how I could steer events in that direction, but ultimately I was too much of a pussy to pull the trigger when it counted. I had opportunities where I could have tried something; after dinner (Mexican) and drinks (Margaritas)  we were back at her place drinking some wine and watching TV (we were going to play Wii, but it turned out her ex-boyfriend has it.) We were sitting comfortably close together on her couch, but she was kind of sitting forward so I reached over and started scratching her back (over her shirt.) She indicated that she enjoyed that, so after a few minutes I started giving her a shoulder and back rub.

Now shoulder rubs are my go-to move when I want to try to get something going with a girl. (By “go-to move” I mean that it worked once before, years ago.) We continued to talk, and I thought about leaning forward to nuzzle/kiss around her neck; that’s the important part of the move and will let you know immediately if the person in question is interested in more than a quick massage. But the angle we were sitting at on the couch just didn’t lend itself to making the move without a lot of shifting and moving and generally telegraphing that I’m sitting up and leaning forward and… well, you get the picture.

I let a great opportunity slip through my fingers when she kind of cooed and said “Wow! I’ve had dinner, drinks, and now a nice massage. What else could a girl want?” My head (I don’t know which one) was screaming to say “How about a kiss?” in that low, sexy voice that turns knees to water and get girls all buttery in their nether regions. Not that I have that low, sexy voice, but that’s how I wanted to say it. But before I got around to it, she started talking about something else and the moment was gone.

I left around 1 a.m., tired and frustrated with myself for not having made a stronger move. Trying and being slapped down again would have been preferable to the feeling that maybe she did want something and I lost my chance. On the other hand, I don’t think I was too subtle either; the massage, the touches, even some of the points of conversations should have been enough for her to know I was sending signals. She never indicated that she was uncomfortable with my signals, but she also never did anything to encourage more. It’s entirely possible that she did, though, and I was too insecure to pick up on it. But it’s also possible that had I tried to push for more (by kissing her, for instance) and she wasn’t receptive, it would make her uncomfortable to be around me later and adversely affect our friendship.

Later on Saturday I texted her to see if she wanted to hang out again; if she’d said yes I was determined to kiss her before the night was out, and damned the consequences. She declined, saying she had too much cleaning and whatnot to do.

So it goes.

 Now the wife is back safe and sound, and we both had a nice vacation, so I can’t complain too much. There’s a new motorcycle that’s caught my eye; I want it, but I know the smarter, financially sound decision is to wait another year to knock some of my debt down first. But I’m impatient, and I really like the bike. It will interesting to see which side will win the debate over the next week or so.

Rough Day

My company is downsizing around 7000 positions worldwide (about 10% of our workforce), and today our little back-water office took its hits. Fortunately my job wasn’t one that was eliminated, but it kind of feels like it was a close call. The Director, my boss’s boss, told me that my position was staying but being reorganized into a different department and would take on some additional responsibilities. I was given the choice to accept the new position (same pay and benefits) or take a severance package. It was a pretty easy decision to make!

Two of my coworkers were given basically the same choice with their jobs, and they too decided to stay; I imagine it was a pretty easy choice for them as well. Unfortunately, six other coworkers weren’t so lucky and were terminated. It’s a tough loss, as all of them were good people and most of them were good workers.

I’ll especially miss Myna*, the lesbian who worked in the warehouse. (The other woman who works in the warehouse is probably a lesbian too, but I don’t have direct confirmation of that.) Myna and I got along pretty well, and especially in the past month as we’ve encouraged each other in our exercise and weight-loss efforts. She and I have a lot in common, though apparently only one of us is willing to suck a cock.

I’m going to take the wife to dinner tonight, and probably have a stiff drink or three when we get home.  

Happy New Year

Yes, I know, that's not a very original title right now. I want to write about a few minor things, but it's all so incredibly boring that I don't know if it's worthwhile. I guess I will, though, if for no other reason than to make sure I have at least one post in 2015. I mean, there may (or may not) be others, but if not at least there will be one. For what that's worth.

Anyway, between a combination of paid holidays and vacation, I worked two days Christmas week and one day New Years (this) week. And of course I'm dreading going back next week just because of having to get back into the swing of things. And I really have to concentrate on being productive and not wasting so much time on the internet.

The really big news from work is that my company is getting bought out by our rival company, which leads to a lot of uncertainty. Coupled with some economic factors, and some jobs could be in jeopardy either over the next few months or the end of the year when the hurdles have all been cleared for the buyout. Most people think our local office, with the specifics that we do, will be safe but we just don't know if either the current company or the new one will be able to afford keeping everyone on. And I'm just an office administrator who doesn't add anything directly to the bottom line.

But screw it; there's little I can do outside of just trying to be as indispensable as possible.

The wife and I went to my folks for Christmas as we always do, then later that evening went to a movie and to our favorite Asian restaurant for sushi. As both of our biggest gifts were already given earlier in the month, we didn't exchange many gifts between ourselves. In fact, other than money for the two nieces who are still under the cut-off age of 18 and restaurant gift cards for my parents, we didn't spend much money at all for Christmas. Personally I'd just as soon not exchange gifts with my parents; we give them gift cards and they give us cash (like they do for all their kids) and a small gift. For me the best part of the day is just going over there and eating too much while catching up with parts of the extended family I don't see the rest of the year. At almost 50, gifts I don't need are the last thing I want to get.

The best gift I got from the wife (outside the quickie we had Christmas morning before going to my parents) was permission to go to the Cowboys/Redskins game in Landover MD. (Yes, I'm an adult and could have gone without her permission, but I think any married man will admit that having the seal of approval from the wife to do something is infinitely better.)

Z and I wound up going (I'd originally wanted to take the wife, but she couldn't get Monday off from work) and had a pretty good time, but I'm not going to go into the details because it's just too boring. We drank a lot of beer, talked long into the night after the game, and headed back Monday morning not too badly hungover. I didn't blow Z, but I did offer to just to be polite, and we showed each other our junk. Like I said; boring stuff.

The wife and I tried going to a bar for NYE that was having a live band, but it turned out to be a heavy metal band so we left. We came back home and had some drinks while watching a football game, then went to bed around 11:45. I thought we'd make it to midnight, but apparently we both fell asleep a few minutes too early; I woke up around 1:30 a.m. with the TV still on and her snoring merrily away. We laughed about it the next morning.

Anyway, I hope you all had a good (or at least tolerable) Christmas, and that the New Year turns out better than the last.

Short Story - Beginning

Linder and Dorian drained their mugs while Linder signaled the barkeep to bring another pitcher. “Look, Dorian, I understand you had a bad day-“

“Bad day, hell!” Dorian interrupted. “Every day is bad when you’re a slave!”

Linder rolled his eyes and sighed. “Let’s not start this shit again, okay?”

“Well what else would you call it?” Dorian demanded.

“It’s no worse than being their employees, really. We work our shifts, we’re fed and housed, we…” Linder floundered. “I mean, we don’t get paid, but what would we need money for anyway? All in all, I think we have it pretty good. My grandfather talks about how things were before, and believe you me, we are a hell of a lot better off than people were just 50 years ago.”

“Oh yea?” Dorian remarked snidely. “If we have it so good, let’s go out of town tomorrow. We’ll just up and leave for, oh I don’t know, let’s say two weeks.”

“You know we can’t do that; we both have to work.”

“Aha! You admit it, then; the biggest thing we don’t have is freedom!”

“Oh for fucks sake, Dorian! You couldn’t just up and leave in the old days either! If you had a job, you had to go in every day, and you had to schedule your time off if you wanted to get away.”

“Bullshit, Linder! A free man could have left anytime he wanted! Nobody would use these,” he slammed his arm on the table, the bulge from the tracker prominent, “to track you down and drag you back! The worst that would happen is you’d get fired.”

“And what do you think happens now? Yes, they track you down and bring you back, but then you just get transferred to another site.” Linder poured them both fresh glasses from the pitcher the barkeep left at their table.

“Oh, Linder,” Dorian sighed, losing his heart for the argument. “If you can’t see the difference, I just don’t know what to tell you. It’s about freedom, and choices. We don’t have those things now because we are slaves.”

Linder drank from his beer and quietly said “So what if we are? What’s the big deal? Like I said before, we aren’t mistreated; we’re fed and housed; they don’t overwork us; we get excellent medical care. What more do you want?”

“They only do all those things because sick or dead slaves aren’t any use to them.”

“I say again: so what? We live under a benevolent dictatorship, and we’ve got it pretty good all in all. I may not be able to up and leave tomorrow without notice, but I can get permission to go just about anywhere I want, and without a lot of hassle about it. And so can you, Dorian. You have essentially the same freedom now that you’d have had under the old way of doing things.”

“You think so, huh kid?”

“I know so. Look, Dorian, you’ve been mouthing off about this for how long now, a couple of months?” Dorian grunted his agreement. “I don’t know what got you on that kick, but in all that time has anything happened to you? You haven’t been particularly quiet while complaining about our being slaves, and how we should rise up against the oppressors, have you? But no jack-booted thugs have bust in the door and dragged you off to never be seen again, have they?”

Dorian drained his glass and stood up. “Linder, m’boy, when you’re right you’re right, and you are right. Everything is peachy, and I’m an old, drunken fool to complain about it.”

“Ah, now listen, Dorian, I didn’t mean-“

“It’s okay, son. I’m going home to sleep it off, so I can be right as rain in the morning for my mas… for my employer. Don’t stay out late, kid.”

Linder sighed. “Be careful, old man. Call me tomorrow.” Dorian threw him a wave as he made his way out the door, then he was gone.

Linder swiped his chit for the beer they’d drunk, and a quick mental calculation later he resolved to make sure Dorian paid next time. His rations were almost gone and it was only mid-month; Dorian would have to dig into his allotment for the next night or two to balance accounts.

*********** 

This is the start of a story idea I’ve had kicking around for a little while; is anybody interested in seeing where it goes? I honestly don’t know how I’ll get to where I see the end, or if the end will even look like I think it will now. And just to be up front about it, I might not even get to an end.

It won’t be a sex story, but there may be (or not) sexual situations, and because I write what I know those sexual situations could be kind of out there. Anyway, let me know what you think, and if I should try to continue.

I Should Probably Work on That.

During one of my (increasingly rare) visits to Facebook the other day, I clicked on a link to an article on relationships a FB friend shared. Though it did have some mind-numbingly obvious statements like “contempt for each other is the number one reason relationships fail” (I’m paraphrasing, but that was the gist of it), some of the information was pretty interesting.

The article was about researchers who studied couples six years after they were married to find the differences between the couples that were still “happily” married and those who were divorced or “chronically unhappy.” The article did not, as far as I can remember, specify how they differentiated between “happy” and “chronically unhappy”, or how they could be sure that people who claimed to be happy truly were, but let’s just take their word that they know what they’re doing, at least for the moment.

It seems that one big factor in couples remaining happily together (outside of the whole not having contempt for each other thing) is the number of times one responds to one’s partner’s “bids.” They describe “bids” as the requests for attention made throughout the parts of the day a couple spends together. For instance, if your spouse or SO makes a comment on an article they are reading, they are looking for a connection that goes beyond the article; they simply want an acknowledgement perhaps a brief (but meaningful) dialogue about it.

Couples that are still happily together respond to 87% of each other’s “bids”, while those who are divorced or chronically unhappy tend to only respond to 33% of the attempts. It’s not just responding, though; it also depends on how you respond. If you mutter “okay” or “uh huh” or something without really giving any attention, or respond with hostility (“stop bothering me while I’m reading”) it’s just as bad as if you completely ignore the bid. In either case, you’re subtly making your spouse feel worthless and invisible, which obviously affects their feelings towards you.

(This is a gross generalization of the article; I highly recommend reading it in entirety instead of relying on my quick synopsis as there is a good bit of other information in there.)

I definitely see myself, at this point in my marriage, as someone who probably doesn’t respond to the wife’s bids as often as I should. I “turn away” instead of “turn toward” more often than not, especially when I’m reading. Sometimes it’s unintentional; I’m really into what I’m reading and it takes several moments before I register that she was saying something. Other times I purposefully give the minimal “uh huh” in the hopes that she’ll get the hint that I’m not interested and wish she would not continue.

In my defense, she does tend to keep up a steady stream of babbling; if they’re all bids, I don’t think it’s humanly possible to respond to more than 45% or 50% of them and still have time to do things like sleeping and masturbating. And of course she does the same to me, except in general I’d say her “turn aways” are far more likely due to her being engrossed in whatever she’s doing and genuinely not hearing me than intentional neglect. Besides, I’ve pretty much stopped making a lot of bids.

Anyway, it’s an interesting article, and I think there’s a lot of validity to their findings.

Checking In

Just some odds and ends to catch up, and assure those of you I don’t communicate with on a regular basis that I’m still alive and kicking.

Things are mostly the same with the wife and me, which is to say that they’re right back to where we were last year at this time. I guess I didn’t really think anything would change, but I had hoped. Really, it’s not bad though. When I’m not spending most of the day moping around and feeling sorry for myself, it doesn’t bother me that much. She spends her time on her computer, I spend time reading, and we kind of half-assed spend time together. Sex is just something to do when masturbation gets boring, and though she’ll tolerate me going down on her for a minute or two I don’t bother with it much. Why should I if she doesn’t get anything out of it?

I’ve also pretty much given up on making any of what I consider the “first moves” to initiate sex. I don’t try to rub her ass when we’re in the kitchen, or reach around to caress her from behind or nuzzle or play in any way. Again, why bother? She sometimes tolerates it, but usually I just get “Honey, please!” So holding hands on the couch (when she’s not too busy with her games) will have to suffice, and if she wants to have sex she’ll just have to tell me. At which point we’ll go back to the bedroom, she’ll blow me for a few minutes, and then lay back and soon it’s over. If she wants something I’ll get her toy and watch (and sometimes touch, if she wants me to) as she gets off.

L continues her campaign of cutting us out of just about all physical involvement in her life. We still text during the week, but it’s mostly just pleasantries; nothing of any real substance and not even much of that. I stopped initiating text conversations with her (unless it’s something important, which it never is) but will respond if she says something. Maybe I’m being stubborn, and maybe she is too, but fuck it, right? I can’t be the only one making an effort. It may be best to let her just fade out of our lives altogether; it seems like what she wants anyway.

I’ve decided to give up sodas, at least for a while, though I honestly don’t know what I expect to happen from it. For the past two weeks I cut back to just one a day, and on Friday I had the last one from the last case I bought so this weekend was my first soda-free (diet or otherwise) in… well, hell, I couldn’t tell you how long. It’s been at least 25 years, when I was in the Army and we’d go on maneuvers, and even then I’d have at least one each day if I could get to the store before we went. But again, I don’t know what I expect to happen; it’s just something to do.

The more I write here the less I want to post this, so I’d better stop before I just delete it altogether.