So with the success of the experimental orgasm the week prior, my husband seduced me with his linen laundering skills last weekend (“I washed the sheets,” he said, “I know that turns you on”) and we snuggled under the clean cushy covers on Saturday night for a bit of somethin’-somethin’.
And I was, y’know, dressed for the occasion. All sexy-like and whatnot.
In fact, our pre-vibe-action conversation was about that very topic. To whit:
Him: Why are you wearing your Elmo sweatshirt to bed?
I have written before about the ridiculous messages that my spam filter ‘traps’ for me — why it can’t decide for itself that “hot sex brown gorgeous bondage” followed by 47 hyperlinks IS, indeed, SPAM, makes no sense to me — to approve/delete.
And while those various flavors of spam are sometimes entertaining, the process of culling through them is mostly tedious.
But comments – spammy ones and real ones alike – are only one form of communications attached to this blog.
I also have email.
The email attached to this blog is something I don’t always remember to check; I mostly just get admin notifications there (like “your site is running an outdated version of three plug-ins — please visit your dashboard) and for some reason I get an email ping every time I have a new comment.
But I also get emails there forwarded from my ‘contact’ page…
Many of which I PURPOSELY IGNORE, because the senders have obviously purposely ignored my “I will ignore you!” message:
^note the message outlined in blue^
…and I also occasionally get random messages — unexplained, without context, signed in ways that are not make-sense-able — directly addressed to my email.
“What do you want to use?” he asks, pulling battery-operated toys out of the bottom drawer one at a time and testing them to see if they will still turn on.
Much like we are about to test whether *I* will still ‘turn on’.
The choice is the only one that makes sense to me, as penetrative toys are not likely to feel pleasurable right now. With the vibes, at least I can change speed and pressure and sort of ‘nudge’ my nubby — that’s our nickname for my clit: nubby — to try to wake it up.
Truthfully, I’m a little nervous about trying this.
Our pre-experiment conversation covered a lot of ground in a short period of time — “I’m satisfied with our sex life” coming from my husband; “I don’t know if I’m going to get my libido back” my own concern; no pressure and it’s okay if this sexperiment doesn’t end in orgasm the attitudes we take — and in the lead-up to this ‘try’ I’ve been actively trying to tune in to my body on a daily basis, asking myself questions that require somatic concentration: things like What do I feel, right now, in this moment? -and- When I think of a ‘good’ sexual experience from my past, what kind of response do my senses give?
Once upon a time, if “Sex?” was the question, then the answer was “YES.”
These days though, with my libido stuck in the quicksand quagmire of menopause-induced sexual discomfort, I am finding that my once-“YES”, then later mostly-“maybe” (or “maybe later”), has turned to “…why…?”
As in: Why should I put effort into something that either {a} is a complete non-starter for me, or {b} is something that — if I *do* bother to start — I have a hard time finishing?
