Married Sex: the missing ingredient

I have had sex twice since I got pregnant and then got un-pregnant. Both times were with my husband.

The first time I was still a complete mess. I got drunk and then threw myself at him. I was still sore inside, physically, but I didn’t care. This wasn’t about lust or my libido or even pleasure–I was just desperate for comfort.

It felt good and it hurt. My moans were closer to sobs. It was sloppy–not physically, but emotionally. I kept saying “I want,” I kept saying “please.” When it was over I asked him to just hold me. I think I fell asleep, though I was so drunk I may have just passed out.

The second time was last night. I wasn’t drunk. There was no eyes locking across the room, but neither did I throw myself at him. It was sex without pre-amble. We went into our room, undressed separately in the dark, and just started touching each other. We kissed; he fingered me for a long damn time. I squirted twice before he even entered me. The sex was not urgent, but neither was it slow and tender. It wasn’t mechanical–it was just sex between two people who know each other’s bodies and know what they want.

When I was on top I got the most out of it–maybe because I was in control; because I could put him exactly where I needed him. But to my husband, sex is all about me and so he would sometimes throw me off by trying to take back control. Not because he is dominant, but because he feels guilty when he is lying there doing nothing. We’re going to have to talk about that.

Before he could come, he pushed me off. Determined to give me more pleasure before it was over. He fingered me, licked my pussy and pinched my nipples at the same time. I have a recurring fantasy about being serviced by two women and one man at once–one penetrating me, one sucking my nipples and one eating me out. He did pretty well for just one man!

I squirted again, and then begged him to get back inside me. We fucked for a few more minutes, and I came, and then he came.

It was good sex by any standard.

Why doesn’t fucking my husband make me high? I think it’s because we are too familiar. There is nothing illicit about it. Maybe this is why I often have a few drinks before having sex with him–I need something to give me that sense of unreality, to mimic that out of my head feeling I get when I’m with someone I don’t really know.

I know there are tons of ways to spice things up. Different toys, sex in public (which surprisingly my husband is into)–all kinds of stuff.

It will take some work, but I’m starting to believe that we are worth it.



10 Comments on “Married Sex: the missing ingredient”

  1. Enid Coleslaw says:

    Has someone already recommended the book Mating in Captivity to you? I haven’t finished it yet, but so far it has spoke to me.

    I always identify with your posts about your marriage. I find myself referring to the sex with my husband as “good, for married sex”. It just never feels exciting or interesting to me anymore. It’s not bad by any stretch, just sort of there to fill a basic need.

    • I haven’t read that but it does sound good. I will add it to my list. I cling foolishly to the hope that we can spice things up somehow…

      • Enid Coleslaw says:

        I don’t think it’s foolish of you. I have the same hope. Though I do think that it might be unrealistic to think that we will ever be satisfied with one partner for the rest of our lives. Just not in our nature. Well, not in mine at least.

      • I think I would like to continue to have trysts, I just haven’t quite figured out how to do that without getting crushed.

        Unless of course it is just a one-time, no strings type thing…which I am starting to feel might be the way to go.

      • Enid Coleslaw says:

        There is appeal to both, for me. I think I’m partially addicted to full blown affairs because I love the intimacy. The getting to know someone new and all the excitement that comes with it. The heartbreak when it ends though…it’s rough.

        NSA might be the way to go, I agree. Perhaps you can do that in a more normal, non addictive way than I can lol. More power to you. 🙂

      • Yeah…the allure of the closeness and the butterflies and the pseudo-love is very strong. Sometimes I feel like I am so lonely that I don’t care if I get my heart broken, I would do it again just to experience all those feelings.

        Right now though I feel like if I were to fall for someone and it was to end, I would not survive it. But why does it have to end? Why can’t I just have a long-term poly partner? But then I’d be in the exact same place as I am right now–bored and wanting to replace that thrill.

  2. chinaskie says:

    Some questions that came up for me: – – Why do we get high?
    – If it’s to escape our reality, what is wrong with our reality?
    – If we don’t know how to/can’t/won’t change our reality, what happens to us when our only known coping strategy is to get high?
    -Is it worth looking into what makes us keep repeating certain patterns of behavior, or do we just say “this is who I am” and try and endure?
    Take what you like…

    • Thank you for your thoughts.
      I think that, for sure, there is something missing that makes us want to get high. In my case, I have been so unhappy for so long that it is just second nature for me to try to escape. When I picture the moments of my life where I have felt truly happy and at peace, there are a few common denominators, and I think sometime soon I will write a post about that.

      I am at a place in my life where I feel like, despite how much I want to just fuck my consciousness into oblivion, I need to get some things straightened out. If I improve my life, take care of what needs to be taken care of, and seek lasting contentment instead of these fleeting highs, I think it will help me figure out a lot. As for “this is who I am”, I do wonder. I am afraid that even when things are better in my life I will still feel this void. But at least then I will know if it is me or my circumstances that make me this way–though I am inclined to believe that it is both.

      I am a believer in Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs. I think that once my life is relatively together and stable, then I will have the energy and discipline to devote to figuring out the higher order stuff–the meaning of life, what is going on inside me that makes me this way, etc.

      At that point I will stare myself in the face and I will know. Am I broken? Is this just who and what I am? And then I will know what to do.

      • chinaskie says:

        I agree with you about Maslow. I don’t know your history, but my Hierarchy structure was messed with during childhood, and I know it contributed to issues I’ve had. Finding that stability within seems to be the key to the rest…

      • Mine was messed with as a kid too. Sometimes I think I’d like to go back and start over, and then I realize in order to avoid having all of these issues I’d have to go back before my birth and be born to different parents.

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