incognitobynight
Posts: 61
Joined: 6/12/2006 Status: offline
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Timeoutgurlie, In my situation there never was any sexual contact to begin with. I always had long term relationships that had a pretty fair amount of intimacy and sexual activity, but vanilla. At the end of my LAST relationship, I discovered BDSM and had one 8 month affair with a dom, that was pure heaven. It was never intended to be a LTR, so when it was over, I was very eager (too eager perhaps) to find a LTR with a Dominant partner. When I met my husband, in my eagerness to please, I allowed him to determine the pace of the relationship. There were always excuses (some pretty valid, others I shoulda taken the blinders off) as to why he was not like other men I had been with. At first our relationship was very long distance, (I was from NC, he from NY) and finally I moved up to NY. From the beginning I was given my own room (I told myself he was being a gentleman), then his mother died and he was hit with a lot of family responsibilities. My new job had me on the road a lot. I started to feel that something wasn't right and became a little more assertive in my advances towards him. For reflective soul, I do not feel that I was cruel or angry or pushy. I am a very affectionate person, and sitting next to him, I would have my hands all over him, leaning into him, rubbing his back, legs, arms, kissing his neck. And he would just sit there like stone, or laugh and say my nuzzling his neck tickled, or something like that. I dressed in fetish wear (which he loved) but nothing ever happened. I invited him to take showers with me, I would soap him down, if I asked him to soap me down, he would, but it was the most brief of touches. I tried to please him orally, he would laugh and pull out of my mouth saying it was too intense, or it tickled. The few times he did actually touch my breasts, he was like a child giving them silly pet names and the briefest of squeezes or jiggles and then move onto washing his hair (all this was in the shower still, btw). I tried talking to him, asking him if he was not attracted to me. I didn't understand. I had always been attractive to men. I asked if I was being to pushy. He always answered the right way, and there was always an excuse. I became depressed. I told him I thought something might be wrong. He ended up submitting to some things that I did for him (I tried a butt plug on him). It was obvious he was enduring it to make me happy, but wasn't really enjoying it. He liked to tie me up in rope while I was dressed in fetish wear. But he would tie me up, and then put me in a chair next to him and he would look at bondage pictures on the computer, but would never touch me. He did like for me to brush his lips with mine each night before I headed to bed and before I left the house. I think this was to give him the illusion that we were still a couple. I finally, very depressed by this time, and insisted we get counseling. He was reluctant to go, but I told him that I couldn't see myself going through my entire life with no intimacy, no touching, no sex ever again. So he went. It didn't go very well. By the third session, he had not stated why we were there yet and we pretty much used the time to discuss other things that had begun to bother me as well (control issues, for he was very afraid that I would cheat on him and put unnecessary restrictions on me, things I didn't feel I deserved). I finally, in my frustration, blurted out to the therapist that we had been together one year, and no sex, almost no touching at all. It embarrassed him and he stormed out of the session and would not go back. I did eventually leave him before the one year anniversary of our meeting. This is where it gets really sick. He worked me and worked me and worked me, begging me for another chance, promising to work on the issue, making other concessions (regarding the control issues). This was a very, very painful time for me. I do not have it in me to be ruthless. I cared for him as a person, I hated hurting him. I DO have co-dependency issues and he didn't mind thowing himself at my feet in tears (literally). I finally, reluctantly, against my better judgement, stupidly, agreed to come back on a trial basis. I remember thinking with a sinking heart, that he would see for himself this was not going to work. The day I moved back in, he took me to my room and said he knew I was tired and he would just sleep across the hall tonight. And that was the way it was until now. I am not sure how it happened, but I think it was my way of coping with the loss of my dreams, but I successfully supressed my need for affection (sorta) for 8 years. I threw myself into other things that fulfilled me. He benefitted greatly by this. As I mentioned above, I am a very affectionate person. Without the outlet that I was used to, I focused that affection and expressed it in other ways. I did everything to make him happy and I am here to tell you, I was a smashing success. He had been a bit of a loner before I met him. I opened his eyes to exotic places, I took him on trips, showered him with expensive gifts, treated him like a king. I landscaped his yard, helped him finish the basement in his house to one hell of an office and family room. I introduced him to nudism (which he could take or leave). His family was all gone now. I have a huge loving family and they opened their arms to him. We never fight. I was numb, but I didn't hurt anymore. I found a measure of happiness in the fabulous suprises that I plotted and executed. When we had been together 7 years, he retired from his job up north and I went back to work at my old job in the south. He sold his house and we bought land and in the south and built a gorgeous dream home. Two years ago, he asked me to marry him. (omigod, my two year anniversary is in three days). I remember having a brief nagging thought that our relationship wasn't quite "right", but I told myself that I had made myself happy for the last 7 years, I had learned to do without, there were good things about this man and hell, I didn't even have to shave my legs every night. We got married, had a big fancy wedding. On our wedding night, he spent the night in my room because we had a household full of guests. He never touched me, I didn't expect it. A month before our first year anniversary, after a series of highs (my parents 50th wedding anniversary which I planned and pulled of a huge celebration) his birthday (with a huge surprise party for my husband with friends coming from up north and probably the most expensive gift I have ever given him) and then a trip to Myrtle Beach to visit his former boss and his wife, while we were there, for reasons that I can only think was because of all the highs of that month, I woke up and remembered who I used to be. I realized that I had changed dramatically. I was "settled" and I used to be such a lively free spirit. I watched my husbands wife interact with her husband and I remembered affection, I remembered the intimacy and the looks that passed between two ADULT people, one male, one female. Words cannot explain the pain that hit me, sitting there at the dinner table with all of these laughing people. We went to bed and I sat awake all night long, going to the bathroom to cry where I would not be heard. There is, of course, much more to this story (SSKitten knows it), but that pretty much should answer your question as to how I got here in the first place. I am editing my post to add a thought. There have been many times in the last 13 months (since I came out of the deep sleep I feel I was in) that I have wished I could put this genie back in the bottle and just go back to sleep. In a lot of ways, the numbness was preferable to the yearning and the haunting knowledge that as I am, I can't continue this way and some tough decisions have to be made that are going to be very painful for me and for my husband. But, no matter how much resolve I have to try and supress again, I have been unable to accomplish that. On the other hand..........do I want my life to end one day with the knowledge that I only lived half of what was given to me to live. Already as it stands, I cannot get back the 10 years I have allowed to go by, half asleep. The other thing I want to make sure anyone who reads this understands........I know that my lack of backbone and my inability to take care of myself first, is the reason I am here and disatisfied. I DON'T blame my husband. He was able to do what I was unable to do. He took what he needed, he thought of his needs first. Isn't that what everyone says I should be doing? If so, then how can you really blame him? I don't.
< Message edited by incognitobynight -- 6/22/2006 3:10:17 AM >
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