We Don’t Play Much

Life is demanding even when one is not required to do much. You know, the monsters in the moat must be fed when there are no intruders, the roof of the shelter needs to be patched when it leaks, and one needs to go out hunting (or gathering if you are the vegetarian bent) when the knap sack turns slim. So, it takes a bit of time away from just screwing around naked.

The other thing is dealing with depression. Everybody becomes depressed from time to time. I do. But some of us get this to a more extreme degree. Dealing with it is a real issue.

My sweet MW has this problem, and I have learned to deal with it. In my earlier years I thought that she was just a brat, and was not willing to face reality. To a certain extent that was true, but the more weighty reason was something else. I wish that I could go back in time and do it right. Now I face this problem in a more sympathetic manner. Even when she becomes bitchy, retaliatory, abusive (not in a good way), I recognize the signs, and treat her with love. She acknowledges it, and calms down. The rest is up to me. I also realize that when she is this way, I can set her off even without trying. It is crucial that I recognize her response, and don’t react to it as the average fool would, or as I used to do in my less enlightened times, with: “Up your ass, woman!” As I said, I have learned.

I don’t know what brings on these episodes of depression. It has been clinically demonstrated that some of it has to do with hormonal imbalance. But given that, there is usually a psychological trigger, and I am in a position to provide that even without trying. Being aware of this impending doom I try to avoid pushing her. Heaping guilt on what she already feels is the wrong thing to do. I fail sometimes, but in general I seldom bitch. Of course, there is going to extremes. There are two ways that I could go.

First, I could avoid any kind of complaint or even hint of lack of satisfaction with respect to her. This will give her a feeling of “all is well”, so she does not add to her own unnecessary feeling of guilt which would contribute to any onset of depression. Of course, this means that “I am completely happy, and she need not change a thing,” which would be untrue. Also, she would still succumb to the “hormonal imbalance” and get depressed anyway.

Second, I could complain about my not getting whatever satisfaction I need, and that we could and should do a lot of things, mostly concerning my sexual preferences.

You can see that neither is constructive nor satisfactory. In the first case I would miss out on a lot of stuff. How long? Who knows? In the second case I might get something grudgingly which I would resent if or when it happened. Worse, if my timing is wrong, and she is depressed, she would have the proverbial meltdown. Then it would be a major undertaking to recover our usual good times.

I try to take a middle road. When she is well, which is most of the time, I will hint about the good times that we can have, about what good things I can do for her, and hope that she gets turned on by them. If, or when I bitch about what I am not getting that I think I deserve, I feel bad afterward. I don’t want to produce guilt in her, or me. That would be a childish and too emotional way to try to get things done. Anything can happen even between “perfectly normal couples”, and the outcome is seldom desirable. See domestic violence, divorce, etc. I have handled those professionally, and they are a constant reminder to me: be kind when dealing with people, especially those whom you love.

It is true that we seldom play any more. We used to have planned get-togethers where we could and did just about anything consensual. Great times. We still have wonderful times when our libidos (mostly hers) mesh. She describes those times as, "Our planets are aligned." I am more sexually primed, so I could do most of this at a moment’s notice. I need just a few seconds to prime the little guy. MW is great when she is ready, but tends to be sexually absent between. We still hug, kiss and feel a lot, but only in a loving vanilla way. In my selfish thoughts I wish that she did some tease and denial. It would keep me going, and she would not need to participate to the full extent. But even as it is, I will follow her lead.

I am not selfless. I am not altruistic in serving her. I am just a horny and kind man who loves his wife, and appreciates the good things when I experience them. I realize that life in general is not necessarily there to satisfy me. We take what we get, give what we can, and try to do our best. Aside from an occasional fantasy-fulfillment, life on the average is just average. It is when I become obsessive with my needs is when I make a mess of it. So, I try to be kind.

Yesterday

MW invited our youngest son and his significant other (SO) for dinner. She gave them a choice of shish kebob or fajitas. The dupe chose fajitas. MW began to prepare the meal around three in the afternoon. Even as she began she was already complaining about it, “If I continue cooking, I won’t be able to stand up. I’m so tired.” Then she came into the living room, looked around disgusted to see all the mess left over after she had removed the Christmas decorations. She looked very dejected. Now she had still another mess to clean up. I, unwisely suggested, that if she did not feel like picking up the mess before, now is not a good time on account of the day being late already, and she cannot do everything on one day. Something like that. She did not see it that way, so she went on tidying up anyway.

Some of you might say, “Why didn’t you pickup the stuff, and allow her to rest?” and you would be right asking that. The usual problem is that I am not supposed to mess with her stuff, and it was all her stuff. So, after my silly comment I tried to maintain a low profile. She went on to straighten the place so that two more people could actually sit down in the room. Of course, a couple of cats immediately moved in to keep the new place warm for guests.

Our son and SO arrived on time. I served some drinks that we bought for the occasion, and had a good time listening to the boy talking about his plans. Dinner was excellent. It was not just fajitas. There were various dips, salsa, chips, shrimp, several cooked and fresh vegetables, salad, hot sauces, etc. After dinner the conversation went on while I put away the leftover food, cleaned up the dining area, and washed the dishes.

Having eaten Mexican food always requires me to add something carbonated. After taking out the trash I was ready to sit down with a special beer that I just opened. The boy asked whether we would be interested in seeing the house that he just bought. They plan to move in upon completion early next month. We agreed to go. Since he and I had been drinking, his girlfriend volunteered to drive.

The place is in the valley about 13 miles away at the edge of civilization. We seldom go in that direction lately. The trip brought up some memories. It is in an area that I often patrolled while in law enforcement. The house is just being completed in a nice new neighborhood. It has spacious rooms and huge backyard, bordered by a park. I could tell that he was proud of it.

After we returned home I was anxious to retire. MW asked whether I wanted to watch a movie, and I said, “I suppose, but I don’t think I will last more than a few minutes.” We watched about twenty minutes of The Two Towers from the Ring trilogy. After we went to bed, I passed out in a minute.

Then There Was This Morning …

I was up early as usual. Before I left the cold bedroom I looked back at her. She was lying on her side hugging a pillow. Her bare skin, covering her hills and valleys, looked as inviting as ever. I was thinking, I did not want to be out of a warm bed, yet there she is sleeping uncovered. Obviously our metabolisms are widely different.

Sometimes she sets me up. Feigning sleep, she makes her butt available for me to love, and if I don't, she is disappointed. I never want to disappoint her, especially when it comes to kissing her beautiful butt or anything. I did not want to disturb her sleep, so I did not kiss her butt this time. I grabbed the signaling device while making sure that she had the controller hanging on the wall by her side.

I turned on my computer and did some work and play. I never visit pornographic sites on purpose. It is not because I am so pure, but just that they don’t do anything for me. To me, real things are a turn-on. I might be willing to watch videos posted by real people. It is yet to come in my life, and I am hoping that I will like it. I will let you know if or when I try.

Hours later I felt a twinge around my private parts. I was not sure that it was real. I went to investigate anyway. She was covered and showed no signs of being aware of my presence. I left with the intent of not disturbing her. After a few minutes I felt the same twinge. Still not being sure, I checked again. Same result. I went back to my computer to try to install some software that had been giving me a hard time. Then I felt the twinge again. This time I was annoyed, but I went to see the potential source, and said, “Why don’t you acknowledge my presence? I was not sure that you wanted me, but here I was.”

“I was just playing,” she said.

We discussed the possibilities, and I set off to make coffee. She opened the blinds on this second floor bedroom so that we could watch the sunrise over the mountain. I served the coffee and we sat in bed enjoying still another wonderful morning when we are well, having no major problems, and all we needed to do was to work out some of the temporary kinks.

After coffee it was she who suggested a cuddle. Glory be! I, of course, took the opportunity. It did not take long to settle with my face being between her generous breasts and be very happy. Actually, my face would be happy between her anything, but I don’t want to be an ingrate and complain. Her breasts are just fine! I had a hard time participating in a conversation on account of being somewhat muffled by voluptuous female charms. Not that I wanted to change anything. I was so comfortable that she had to awaken me after a few minutes. I am such an ingrate.

We enjoyed about an hour of closeness before she started to mess with one of my tits. Let me tell you: nobody messes with my tits and gets away with it. Well, maybe she does, and she did. She realized that my little guy expressed his opinion, and suggested that maybe we could get together. In almost no time she was on her back and drawing me on top. I did not need more encouragement. He and I complied.

For those of you who have not had this experience with her, and I know that none of you have, heh heh … this is something pleasant, to say the least. I like to go at it slowly and gently to be sure that she does not get hurt. If you remember, I wear a Prince Albert ring. The other reason for slow strokes is to prolong the experience.

Back to the momentous occasion. She had hold of both of my nipples by this time and made good use of them. They are still sore as I am writing this. Even with the slow strokes, I did not last more than about ten minutes, but who was timing? After it was over I stayed where I was and just moved around a bit while she clamped onto the (not so) little guy with her thighs. Then a first-time event in my life occurred: I had another orgasm. I am not making this up, this has never happened before. Sure, I used to get off a few times a day after we were first married, with some pause between tries. But as time went on, one orgasm was the sentence for the rest of my life. Until now. I am not confident that this will happen again, but I am willing to try.

We lay together for a while. She said, and I don’t remember her exact words, “It is good to be so close to you.”

An After Note

MW says that this double orgasm has occurred for the second time. I asked her when, and under what circumstances. She indicated that it was some years ago without giving specifics. Oh well, who am I to argue? Or could it be that she was with another man, which is why I don’t remember? Then again, after having a few glasses of wine I tend to "not remember" a lot of things.