JUDGE ME HARSHLY in Book Seven: Reconstruction 2020

Perhaps this entry will be among those that readers would say should never have been shared. I accept that. But my heart, my mind, my soul desires to share what is locked within. So do judge me harshly for these words. But know that they are honest.

As Martha comes to visit periodically, something becomes ever more obvious to me. I am no longer attracted to her. Certainly she would chalk this up to having gained weight or some superficial element. But I am more certain than ever now that such is not the case. She was attractive to me. She likely could be again. And none of that is due to her actual physical appearance. It stems from something more… difficult to explain. As my Wife, she was my one and my only. But now that we’re separated and the world of options is open to me? At first, I still found her very attractive. All the options of the world open to me, and I still desired my wife! But as time passed, as I was able to use a more discerning eye upon reflecting on our marriage? It sank in more and more. Our marriage had no… reciprocity. I agreed to marry her: sickness or health, better or worse, fat or thin, richer or poorer, hot or not. She was to be my wife and I was to be her husband. But… she didn’t make the same promise. Her vow, apparently, had all sorts of conditions attached. And that led to our separation. And even now… I’m seeing what those conditions were. I’m seeing how… I guess, ultimately? I agreed to marry her. She didn’t agree to marry me. She agreed to “allowing me to marry her”. And yeah. As that sinks in? As I realize the only thing in our marriage that she’s missing is the comfort of this house? It changes how I see her. Instead of a sexy near-40 woman that I can bed… it turns her into a sad near-40 woman that needs something in her life. I’m happy to be her friend. I am. She needs SOMEONE in her life and has ZERO ability to find a friend (and her Tinder dates are wisely pushing Social Distancing). So, my doors are open for her. We’ll watch TV, have conversations, play with the dog. Hell, maybe we’ll even fuck. For old time’s sake. But… I’m really waking up to the reality of what we were. And really addressing that… I deserve better. I may never find it. I may be a pathetic loser forever alone fucking my own hand and wishing someone would love me. But… I know I deserve better than what my marriage was.

AS EASY AS IT IS TO CONSIDER THE ABOVE TO BE PART OF THE BELOW, THEY ARE SEPARATE IDEAS WRITTEN ON DIFFERENT DAYS. PERHAPS I SHOULD MAKE TWO ENTRIES, (Lord knows it would be received better by readers) BUT THAT IS NOT HOW I HAVE CHOSEN TO DO THIS.

One of the things that gets me? I realize there are a lot of things women should, can, will, and are able to refuse when it comes to sexual interactions. You are not required to do ANYTHING and that’s the truth. BUT neither is the man, I’ll remind you. AND YET despite the honest truth being “neither partner is required to do anything special” there are certain… needs that we’d like filled. For example… in order to have sex, a man is not REQUIRED to shave, shower, wear a condom, brush his teeth, or even behave decently. Because sex, technically as we understand it today, is not about one’s external behavior but about (exclusively) consent. So… if a woman wishes to have sex with a man and a man wishes to have sex with a woman and matter of personal hygiene or decency don’t particularly matter… have at it! BUT we also understand that certain things are expected or required for both partners to ENJOY the experience. LIKE brushing teeth, grooming, personal hygiene, etc. So while an individual might willingly have sex with another despite a less than ideal situation… there are certain things that a partner can do to make the experience more pleasurable for all involved.
NOW… I’m not saying that a woman should submit to some asshole who says he can only cum if he’s choking the shit out of her. NOR am I saying that a man should submit to some psycho who says she can only enjoy sex if the intent is impregnation. Though… if that is your kink, go for it. What I am saying is that in order to have mutually enjoyable sex, it seems obvious, there are some things one partner must do for another. It is rare indeed for two humans to simply meet, instantly be aroused by each other, and both to have orgasmic satisfaction by simple insertion sexual interaction.

Accepting that premise… I reflect on myself. Yes, I do find it incredibly hot to do sex for impregnation… seriously, dirty talk involving the whole “give it to me. Give me all of it. I want to have your baby.” Is a frighteningly strong turn on for me…. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about. Mostly… as I reflect on all of this? I realize, embrace, and then grimace at how minimal my desires were…are… and were left unmet by Martha. Honestly… if I could only cum if she wore a zentai and scolded me? Fine. I get that such an activity might be a bit much for some people. But do you know my tame fetish? Do you want to hear my bare minimum; this really turns me on kink? Dress up… dress nicely. That’s it. Whether an evening gown, or a skirt, or nylons, or boots, or heels or…. something. SOMETHING to differentiate between “hanging out on the couch” and “going on a date with someone I care about, respect, and may wish to have sex with.” And frankly, I think that isn’t too much to ask. And if you disagree? Here’s some controversial honesty: Go fuck yourself. If you refuse to wear something nice on a date, YOU should reconsider. I don’t care if the date is with your husband of 30 years… or your wife of 1 year… you should date and do it properly which includes dressing up for one another. And that’s one of those things that really bothered me about my marriage… and made me demand that Martha move out when she started dating! Because for me? The man she wouldn’t have sex with? ANY date was no makeup, blue jeans, and whatever t-shirt she’d been wearing that day. But for her Tinder Dates? Make Up, nice outfit, good footwear. REALLY proving that “my husband gets dog food; others get fillet mignonette.” NOT COOL.