I’m not needy, or desperate. That’s important to get out of the way first. Despite people seeming to assume I am one, the other, or both… everyone has their own opinion, of course…
But I’m not helping myself much.
I know that, for the correct reasons, I married into a relationship with absolutely no sex. Our marriage is a happy and supportive one, with a lot of mutual care, affection and shared humour – I can’t imagine being with anyone else, despite having had three serious relationships before this. In fact, I knew there wouldn’t be a lot of sex well before our engagement.
I am (and have always been) a very highly sexual person – I’m ILB, for Glod’s sake – but, outside of cheating (not an option), opening up our marriage (also not an option) or starting a secret relationship with a fictional person (sounds too much like a novel plot to be an actual thing), there is the very real possibility that I will never, ever have sex again.
This isn’t really a problem, but it’s becoming more of a problem when bits of my life are steadily beginning to abandon me. I can no longer play the guitar; I have no regular social outlet either within or without the sex blogging community; I also have no opportunity to read into a microphone. Without music or comedy (despite vivid, but sad, fantasies about doing both) – and that’s not to mention my day job, which has changed so radically in the wrong direction that it may as well have been called something different – I am something of a shell of what I was ten years ago.
I can play video games. And I can read books. But that’s basically it.
Sex is an important part of my life and Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs will tell you so. I’d like to think that, in a way, I have a healthy enough sex life to tick that box. I don’t get to share my sexual energy with anyone, but I wank enough to give myself the release I need, and I buy porn, so the performers get something out of it too. (I’m quite focused on the porn I buy, actually; I’m still looking for an uncut version of Dungeon of Desire…) It’s not something I can do all the time, but when my wife isn’t home and I feel the urge and I’m alone…
So, this is all okay, right? Everything’s above board and nobody’s getting hurt, right? So why is this post titled “desperate” when I’ve just explained there isn’t any desperacy?
Simply put, despite all attempts to explain to the contrary, a little bit of my brain is trying to tell me that, after a decade and a half of no sex, a part of me is desperate. If I’m not watching porn (or reading a blog or erotica or writing something…), what works the best for me is a rapidly expanding list of “what-ifs”. What if I’d kissed her? What if I’d said something to her? Told her something else? Asked for her number? Bought her a drink? Become Galian Beast? They all end with having sex.
And then there are all the dreams I’m having in which I’m still in a relationship with my second girlfriend. While I’m of the opinion that she has Completely Moved On,β’ the fact remains that we were the most sexually compatible couple that I’ve ever known – certainly ever been in – and the knowledge of this edges into my dreams, and my fantasies. If we’re going to have sex on the floor while listening to Adrian Henri, then I’m going to use that.
I’m sad afterwards – I remember how I reacted when that relationship ended and I’ve never felt closer to death than in that moment. But I don’t think about that when I’m about to come, do I?
Then there’s the trash fire that used to be called Twitter. π is full of angry right-wingers and bare-faced abuse, but I use it to follow Zack Polanski and a number of fellow Greens, or at least that’s what I tell myself. The truth, of course, is that π is also populated by an increasing number of horny, seductive women of about my age. While I’m aware that their constant “need cock now!” posts are mostly engagement farming, and that most of them are married anyway, once I’ve filtered out all the MAGA ones, what’s left is almost certain to pique my interest.
I suppose some of the desperate feelings are mostly out of guilt. It’s real people making me horny and the ones in porn (or on Chaturbate…) that are making me orgasm. Five of them I’ve slept with and only one of them is my wife.
I know this shouldn’t be a problem. It’s a me problem. Something that makes me think I am, in fact, desperate for the kind of sexual connection I’m not getting, although I’m not an incel or a meninist so I can’t even use crass ignorance as an excuse. I probably don’t even need an excuse, although I probably am desperate for one.
I probably shouldn’t have written this post as much as I probably shouldn’t be inventing stories or wanking to memories of my exes or following married Americans on π. It makes me sound awful, and it makes me feel terrible.
But I don’t like not knowing. Or being unsure. Or being left in the dark.
So maybe I am desperate for you to do at least one thing…
…EXPLAIN?!
Hooooo, boy. This is quite a big one. (That’s what she said).
So, for what it is worth, here’s my take.
Every relationship is a compromise to one extent or another. I don’t believe that anyone has a relationship which, over the course of many years. gives them absolutely everything they are looking for. You will see plenty of people on Insta promoting that fantasy but we all know it’s BS.
Early on, during the honeymoon period, yes, it might be all hearts and roses and you can’t imagine that there is anything lacking. Doesn’t sound like that for you. Sounds like you always knew that there would be a compromise in the bedroom department. That, of course, is absolutely fine if that compromise is outweighed by the positives, which in your case it sounds like it is.
Yet, here we are…
You’re expecting all of yourself to accept the compromise. Unfortunately, your sexual self (much of which is subconscious) is not down with that. What would your wife say if she knew all of this? She surely knows that you’re not completely satisfied? Have you ever talked about it with her? Are you afraid that, if you did explain all this to her, she’d be disgusted or think you were brewing up for an affair?
I’m bisexual which, I suppose, comes with built-in compromises with every relationship you are in. My partner is another woman and I love her and wouldn’t dream of cheating. That said. there are times when I really, really would like a real live cock to play with. My sex life now is probably the best I’ve ever had but there’s still that compromise. Not the same as yours, but a compromise, none the less.
It’s human nature to focus on the stuff we haven’t got and to forget the many benefits that we do enjoy, isn’t it?
If your wife is as loving and supportive as you say, I’m sure she’d actually welcome you being honest with her about this. Even if that just means that she gives you her blessing to self-relief strategies or whatever.
If you told her all of this and she resented it and thought less of you for needing to take care of your own, healthy sexual desires, I’d be inclined to ask myself if all of the compromise was not going one way. Exactly what is she compromising on if she doesn’t want you to be happy and fulfilled?
Jxx
Well, it’s a long post, so I appreciate a long comment. π
I’ve written about this in various places before, but it bears repeating, because it’s not fully explainable: yes, we have had those conversations. Years ago we did so for the first time, and every now and again it comes up again. I never bring it up because I don’t want to make it into an issue. It genuinely isn’t – our relationship is strong – but the sex thing certainly affects my wife on some level because I think they feel guilty about it.
Of course they don’t have to feel guilty about anything. It’s not their duty to do anything they don’t want, and if sex is part of that, then so be it. You make a good point about wanting me to be happy and fulfilled, but I think you can be that without getting laid every now and again. My first relationship ended because my OH was having an affair, and it ripped me into tiny pieces, so I’d never do that – not that I’d know how to do so even if I wanted to! My wife does occasionally ask if I’m going to cheat; we’re fully aware that I would never do that, their anxiety and paranoia make them ask.
Because I’m male I occasionally get people assuming that I’m going to start feeling entitled to sex or demanding it or making it a huge thing like objectionable Menβ’ on the internet do. I genuinely don’t.
I think some of the rationale behind this (and possibly quite a big part) is that my wife used to be a sex blogger. That’s essentially how we met. They felt quite badly treated by the community – misinterpreted as a straight cis woman looking for sex when they are, in fact, a pansexual queer enby who is more interested in horror movies – as well as (almost) getting sexually/emotionally abused by someone within the sex blogging community (who has his own harem, so they don’t trust any of them either). A few years in they quietly left sex blogging behind them, which I was fully supportive of, as I could see how upset it was making them.
I, of course, am a sex blogger, and they are fully aware that I not only explicitly write about sex, but have had previous relationships and written about them too, including someone with whom I was incredibly sexually compatible and various other members of the eight people I have slept with. I think that, to some extent, they feel like there is an expectation here – “here’s a sex blogger with a lot of readers, if I don’t have sex with them, or I do but it’s not very good, I’m starving them of content!”
Of course that’s not my view at all, but they have mentioned this in the past.
I’ve said a few times that my sex life – for what it is – is now mostly restricted to self-gratification and they are 100% supportive of me doing that; in fact, they actively encourage it. They are aware – as one should be if one had read my blog at all – that masturbation is part of my life, and by extension softcore porn, which I love. They find my extensive knowledge of soft porn charming and cute (in the same way I feel about them and horror movies), and they know I review it and watch it and wank to it. and that’s never been an issue.
I think you have an excellent point about compromises – every relationship contains some, whether it’s a romantic one, a friendship, a professional, a familial one or anything else! – and this is something I have long been willing to compromise on. I even worked it into asking them to marry me, because I anticipated it coming up!
At the end of the day, what I think is that being in this relationship may mean that I never have sex again. Ever. Yeah, I’m not okay with that and my sexual self isn’t happy. But the other option would be to be without my wife, and I love my wife more than anything else in the world, and that would be something I couldn’t handle.
I made the right decisions all the way through, I think, but I still feel a little guilty.
Having a blog is certainly a way of obliquely raising stuff and putting stuff out there (your example of masturbation being a part of your life for instance) – I’ve absolutely done it.
I was worried that my lovely lover would be angry/jealous/anxious reading stories I’d written about getting railed by a man. Or another woman, for that matter. I think being a sex-blogger does put you in a vulnerable place with those you choose to let into the secret but is also good from the perspective of being able to be completely honest in a ‘sliding into their peripheral vision’ way which then opens up avenues of communication.
For the record, she is not angry/jealous/anxious or any combination of the above and, more often than not, she’s turned on and excited to read my sexy fiction, even if I’m writing in the first person about shagging someone else.
I’m glad you have such open lines of communication with Mrs ILB. Long may it continue, and long may both of you find joy and mutual support in your marriage.
I hope my earlier response didn’t cause any offence. I’m really rubbish at social media and satelite online communication. I’m afraid that offending people online (always unintentionally) is my superpower. I wish it wasn’t so but, a pattern is a pattern, you know?
Loving your work, as always.
Jxx
Yeah, there’s a fair point insofar as being a sex blogger confers upon you perhaps an equal amount of power and vulnerability. It’s a liberating experience to lay yourself bare on the web, but then it also can make you feel a little exposed (and not in the fun way).
A lot of the fiction I’ve written is from the first person, but I’m absolutely certain that the person I’m writing as is not me. I’m usually writing from a female perspective anyway, but even when I’m writing as a boy I’m still not envisioning myself in such a situation… even if the fantasies stray in that direction, I’m still not going to write them down! It’s just.. fiction!
Since your last comment on my post I happened across something I wrote way back before I started ILB on which I got a lot of nice comments. Syren (an openly sexual person with whom I have had very honest conversations before) commented:
A rich fantasy life can do you the world of good; the whole point of a fantasy is to make them daring, wild, forbidden, an escape from rule-bound acceptability. There’s nothing wrong in indulging yourself in whatever thoughts you sexually enjoy ~ an effective fantasy can satisfy intense sexual itches like nothing else … [i]t’s probably healthier to actually pleasure yourself silly while thinking about your sexy female colleagues, [clients], crushes or whoever else than try to ignore it and hope it goes away.
Which is both calming and an excellent summary. Everything helps – your lovely self reading and feeling enough to comment is a definite light in the darkness.