Years ago, when I was a just a young lad, Peter, Paul and Mary sang a mournful tune entitled Where Have All The Flowers Gone? which posed that question, along with asking where all the soldiers had gone and graveyards and what have you. All the queries in that song were answered simply and succinctly. Cat Stevens asked Where do the Children Play? And again, though hypothetical in nature, its lyrics gave a pretty good idea of where they should play. More recently, Adam Lambert sang Whataya Want From Me? and as much as I just wanted him to go far, far away, he attempted to answer the question with his horrible vomit inducing voice within the confines of his horrible little song. So I figure I’m entitled to ask a simple question like: Where has all the sex gone? Or more exactly…where has all MY sex gone?
It’s not like I can point my upraised middle finger to the obvious…I’m not single, not hideous, not living in my parents basement, not a serial killer (though that didn’t stop Ted Bundy), not a eunuch, not a depressed sack of tears, not desperate. And my lovely wife? After nearly 28 years of marriage, she is just as sexy and desirable to me as she ever was. Together, we have successfully raised four great kids, with only one fifteen year old child living at home now – the other three have moved on with their own lives. We are financially secure, have a decent social life and are still truly in love with each other.
Much to my consternation, my wife has decided that she is no longer a spring chicken, with the desires she had when she was a younger woman. No more dangerous quickies in the restaurant bathroom, no romps in the weeds while on a hike, no blowjobs at the ballgame and she only feels the need to subject herself to the obligatory sex once every three to six weeks…or when she decides I’m finally frustrated enough to fuck the cat.
Okay. I wouldn’t fuck the cat. It’s the OTHER pussy in the house that I crave with such desire I nearly trip over my tongue when I see her changing into her bedclothes or bending over the table or washing the fucking dishes. I’ve come to start daydreaming about what we would do…that is if she ever felt like doing anything. We could be out shopping and my mind starts to wander. I’ve imagined her naked or dressed in lingerie as she tries on a pair of shoes. I think about taking her in the vegetable aisle of the local grocery store, or ripping off her clothes as she brushes her teeth. She’s brushing her teeth as I grind mine.
Do I sound frustrated? You bet your sweet LELO Vibrator, I am.
I used to give her mind blowing orgasms and thoroughly enjoyed giving tantalizingly tasty over the top cunnilingus. We’d screw like bunnies or take our own sweet time with each other, melting into each other nearly all night long. She’d give great blow jobs and we would happily part the red sea as long as she wasn’t crampy. But that’s O V E R. And I miss it. I miss her. I miss the tastes, the smells, the sounds, the words…dammit! I miss everything that we used to have. I’m a good husband who has not strayed to another, but there sure are times when I think about it.
To my knowledge, she’s not seeing anyone else (I work from home, so that might be tough to do) and there is no sign of her getting her OWN self off with “The Toys that Stay Hidden” so it’s not like she’s satisfying her libido in some other fashion without me. I’m not sure if she even CRAVES the Sex anymore. At 51, her period is somewhat irregular – I believe she is just about to go through the change, so maybe that has something to do with it. But I have made myself clear to her that I would like to experience nookie more than we currently do…which has elicited NADA in response. And in the meantime, I read posts here from contributors and respondents alike, stating how much they like, want, and DO The Sex WAY more than we do. I could just scream.
So I pose the question. Do any of you ToyWithMes have any idea how we can re-capture at least SOME of what we used to have? Perhaps if I posed the question in song?
Where has all the sex gone?
Free Digital Photos. Photo by adamr.