1. Dee owes me three for essentially catering the party, and one for volunteering to drive the Brownie troop around town while she stayed home and scrapbooked.
2. I take negotiations seriously. Offering to buy me dinner at Subway (when we don't keep our incomes separate or anything) as repayment for all of the above IS insulting.
3. The agreement is that Dee must offer the SEXUAL gratification of her choice.
4. On that front, Dee... last night's offer to "cuddle" doesn't cut it. You must start over. *heh heh*
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
Paybacks...
So last weekend, DH indulged me and spent the evening with my friends and their husbands. Not exactly torture, but for him, pretty close. But it didn't stop there. My girlfriend had the brilliant idea to have a fondue party, she would provide the fondue, and everyone would bring things to dip. Great idea. Did not translate well in reality. So DH's cooking skills came to the rescue. But every time he had to rescue her, he looked at me and said you owe me for this. For a grand total of 4 times.
So, my tongue-in-cheek first offer for payback consisted of me buying him dinner the other night. At Subway. Before the school play. He declined. And was offended and insulted at my attempt to lowball him. My second offer was 10 minutes of making out in the car after work. He also declined, stating that this particular activity would be more for me than him. This insulted and offended me, but whateve.r So I told him he'd better tell me what he thought a good payback might be.
He gave me several options, from one big obligation to payback all the favors, to halfies and even quarters (one for one as it were).
I opted for the one big obligation.
So for the next 10 days, I have to find an opportunity to offer the specific gratification of my choice, whatever creative idea strikes my fancy. Only half can be at bedtime, so the other half has to be during waking hours. He can choose to accept or reject the offer, which must be followed through at the time of offer (no fair offering something up for later in the evening as a way around the half-time bedtime rule). He will be under no obligation to satisfy me, however, so I'd better make these offers good! If I miss a day, I have to either start over or re-negotiate another payment option.
This should be interesting.
So, my tongue-in-cheek first offer for payback consisted of me buying him dinner the other night. At Subway. Before the school play. He declined. And was offended and insulted at my attempt to lowball him. My second offer was 10 minutes of making out in the car after work. He also declined, stating that this particular activity would be more for me than him. This insulted and offended me, but whateve.r So I told him he'd better tell me what he thought a good payback might be.
He gave me several options, from one big obligation to payback all the favors, to halfies and even quarters (one for one as it were).
I opted for the one big obligation.
So for the next 10 days, I have to find an opportunity to offer the specific gratification of my choice, whatever creative idea strikes my fancy. Only half can be at bedtime, so the other half has to be during waking hours. He can choose to accept or reject the offer, which must be followed through at the time of offer (no fair offering something up for later in the evening as a way around the half-time bedtime rule). He will be under no obligation to satisfy me, however, so I'd better make these offers good! If I miss a day, I have to either start over or re-negotiate another payment option.
This should be interesting.
Types
In trying to think up interesting (and challenging) questions to pose to Dee, I’ve found myself thinking about the variety of patters (or personality types) that you can use to describe or define who you are, sexually speaking. There are probably hundreds of different continuums upon which we can define ourselves. Some of them are obvious:
…On a scale of 1-10, with 1 being totally submissive and 10 being completely dominant…
…On a scale from 1-10, would you say you were homosexual (1), bi (5), or straight (10)?
But there are other patters I recognize, yet can’t place a label on – that is, I don’t know that there are names for them. For example, I think there two types of sexual personalities… the first type (which I’ll refer to as A-Types) are those who prefer a set pattern … for them, it’s less about variety, and more about results. I’m not suggesting A-Types are “in a rut,” doing the same thing the same way every time, but I would say they do have a definite set of favorite moves or positions they can mix-and-match in a way which almost guarantees they’ll have a really good orgasm, every time. They know what they want, and what works for them and make efficient use of that information. They specialize in the slow (or rapid) build-up, and the consistent, satisfying climax.
By contrast, B-Types are all about the variety, even though sometimes that variety doesn’t pay off. For them, it’s more about the journey, and less about the results. These are the people for whom sex starts with a caress and a kiss in their bedroom upstairs, and ends with ass-prints on the car windshield in the garage. These are the people who are in the same position twice in a week only by accident. They go with the flow of the moment, and though they do get to the top of the hill, it’s often after repeated build-ups and backslides.
A-Types can be exceptional sexual partners in the sense that, once you have them figured out, you always know exactly how to turn them on, and exactly what to do to rock their world, but for some (mostly B-Types) A-Types might seem uninspired, even uninteresting. On the other hand, with B-Types, you never really know what is going to work for them – or really get them off -- this time, and what blew their mind last night might, today, bore them to death. This can be frustrating, and slightly demoralizing to your self-esteem (especially to A-Types), but others (mostly B-Types) would rather play the guessing game and enjoy the variety.
When two A-Types get together, the sex will be consistently good (provided they like the same things), but will almost never exceed expectations, since they both know exactly what’s coming. When two B-Types get together, the sex can be mindblowing (when both partners desire the same things in the heat of the moment), or frustrating (when the two partners want different things), and will swing wildly from one to the other from encounter to encounter.
When an A-Type and B-Type get together, the disparity can cause a lot of problems. Still, I think the sex can be good, but only if one partner is willing to give up some of his/her personal preference and submits to becoming more like the other.
I really have nowhere to go with this… but I’ve been pondering the various permutations that define what sexuality is. I think it’d be interesting to come up with a little 10-question thing that really boiled down who a person is, sexually, just as a way of really thinking about what it is we want, like, etc. A little 10-question conversation starter.
…On a scale of 1-10, with 1 being totally submissive and 10 being completely dominant…
…On a scale from 1-10, would you say you were homosexual (1), bi (5), or straight (10)?
But there are other patters I recognize, yet can’t place a label on – that is, I don’t know that there are names for them. For example, I think there two types of sexual personalities… the first type (which I’ll refer to as A-Types) are those who prefer a set pattern … for them, it’s less about variety, and more about results. I’m not suggesting A-Types are “in a rut,” doing the same thing the same way every time, but I would say they do have a definite set of favorite moves or positions they can mix-and-match in a way which almost guarantees they’ll have a really good orgasm, every time. They know what they want, and what works for them and make efficient use of that information. They specialize in the slow (or rapid) build-up, and the consistent, satisfying climax.
By contrast, B-Types are all about the variety, even though sometimes that variety doesn’t pay off. For them, it’s more about the journey, and less about the results. These are the people for whom sex starts with a caress and a kiss in their bedroom upstairs, and ends with ass-prints on the car windshield in the garage. These are the people who are in the same position twice in a week only by accident. They go with the flow of the moment, and though they do get to the top of the hill, it’s often after repeated build-ups and backslides.
A-Types can be exceptional sexual partners in the sense that, once you have them figured out, you always know exactly how to turn them on, and exactly what to do to rock their world, but for some (mostly B-Types) A-Types might seem uninspired, even uninteresting. On the other hand, with B-Types, you never really know what is going to work for them – or really get them off -- this time, and what blew their mind last night might, today, bore them to death. This can be frustrating, and slightly demoralizing to your self-esteem (especially to A-Types), but others (mostly B-Types) would rather play the guessing game and enjoy the variety.
When two A-Types get together, the sex will be consistently good (provided they like the same things), but will almost never exceed expectations, since they both know exactly what’s coming. When two B-Types get together, the sex can be mindblowing (when both partners desire the same things in the heat of the moment), or frustrating (when the two partners want different things), and will swing wildly from one to the other from encounter to encounter.
When an A-Type and B-Type get together, the disparity can cause a lot of problems. Still, I think the sex can be good, but only if one partner is willing to give up some of his/her personal preference and submits to becoming more like the other.
I really have nowhere to go with this… but I’ve been pondering the various permutations that define what sexuality is. I think it’d be interesting to come up with a little 10-question thing that really boiled down who a person is, sexually, just as a way of really thinking about what it is we want, like, etc. A little 10-question conversation starter.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Friday Bits
1. These days, it seems that my peak level of horny for the day arrives in the small slice of time between the moment my first cup of coffee really kicks in and the moment when the first work-related frustration hits. That puts it somewhere between 8 and 9:30 am – not exactly a practical and useful moment for this to happen. I think this is the point when my energy level is at its peak, too.
2. On the other hand, I did wake up in the middle of the night last night horny as hell (I don’t know what woke me up, and I don’t remember any dreams, but I suspect I must have been dreaming about SOMETHING…). I seriously considered waking Dee up – the fact that she had kicked the blankets down, and was thus exposed and looking particularly yummy factored into this – but didn’t have the heart to do so. She was sleeping soundly, and I didn’t think it would be fair to rouse her for what would have almost certainly been less than five minutes of self-indulgence. It took me a while to get back to sleep, though.
3. I was feeling particularly creative at work yesterday, so I spent part of the day blowing off my non-critical obligations and played around with a few ideas. I now have a small collection of topics (questions and whatnot) I can pummel Dee with similar to those questions she responded to earlier this week.
4. I’m feeling the Friday joy, but for the past two weeks there’s been a sense of annoyance wrapped up into that feeling. Each of the past two Wednesdays and Thursdays I’ve woken up feeling like it was Friday, so I’ve been feeling the joy – at least initially – on six of the last ten workdays. Since I’ve been disappointed four times out of six, I now have an underlying sense of “oh, great, here we go again,” even though I KNOW that this time it really IS Friday. This is an example of one of those little, meaningless things that has added to my stress level. Waking up every day thinking “Oh, thank God it’s Frid… oh, CRAP!” isn’t exactly getting off to a good start. :)
5. Looking forward to the weekend, though. For no particular reason at all.
2. On the other hand, I did wake up in the middle of the night last night horny as hell (I don’t know what woke me up, and I don’t remember any dreams, but I suspect I must have been dreaming about SOMETHING…). I seriously considered waking Dee up – the fact that she had kicked the blankets down, and was thus exposed and looking particularly yummy factored into this – but didn’t have the heart to do so. She was sleeping soundly, and I didn’t think it would be fair to rouse her for what would have almost certainly been less than five minutes of self-indulgence. It took me a while to get back to sleep, though.
3. I was feeling particularly creative at work yesterday, so I spent part of the day blowing off my non-critical obligations and played around with a few ideas. I now have a small collection of topics (questions and whatnot) I can pummel Dee with similar to those questions she responded to earlier this week.
4. I’m feeling the Friday joy, but for the past two weeks there’s been a sense of annoyance wrapped up into that feeling. Each of the past two Wednesdays and Thursdays I’ve woken up feeling like it was Friday, so I’ve been feeling the joy – at least initially – on six of the last ten workdays. Since I’ve been disappointed four times out of six, I now have an underlying sense of “oh, great, here we go again,” even though I KNOW that this time it really IS Friday. This is an example of one of those little, meaningless things that has added to my stress level. Waking up every day thinking “Oh, thank God it’s Frid… oh, CRAP!” isn’t exactly getting off to a good start. :)
5. Looking forward to the weekend, though. For no particular reason at all.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Making Demands
I’ll never quite get past my conviction that one day Dee is going to wake up and call the whole thing off. In a perfect world, Dee would be married to a dominating Zach Efron with cooking skills and a streak of the social butterfly in him -- someone who looks good, brings her home from social gatherings, throws her down on the bed and takes her, and then cooked her breakfast in bed in the morning. Instead, she wound up with a middle aged, moody, slightly rotund introvert with a whole series of hang-ups. A good father, to be sure, cleans up after himself, holds a steady job… but won’t even admit when he IS actually in the mood for a little lovin’.
I can’t imagine that, from her perspective, I’m the guy on top of the evolutionary ladder here, the cream of the gene pool. There’s HAS be another guy out there who knows how to roast potatoes, and is still better acquainted with the rougher and more adventurous adult worlds than I am. Even I recognize that truth, and if anyone were biased in my favor, it’d be me. :)
I mention this because it feeds directly into the topic at hand: It doesn’t take much deduction to see I’m not comfortable with making demands or requests, sexual or otherwise. I’m just not that kind of guy. Never have been. Never will be. It makes me feel selfish, disrespectful. When I even consider such actions, the guy I see in the mirror suddenly turns into just another prick… one of those guys who gives good men a bad name and encourages women to embrace less flattering stereotypes.
I’m convinced there’s better matches for Dee out there somewhere, so it’s up to me to keep her happy... to take care of things and make her life easier; to keep the grass as green as possible over on my side of the fence. And to never, ever embody the selfish, disrespectful stereotype. She stuck with me because I wasn’t the stereotype – in fact, she dumped quite a few stereotypical guys along the way. I often wonder why, exactly, I'm trying to be more like one of “those” guys.
On the rare occasion I do share a particular thought or tidbit of information, I usually end up feeling equally uncomfortable later on… when Dee tries to act on the information. If I grumble about how I really hate unloading the dishwasher, and Dee gets up five minutes earlier and unloads it, I feel like a slave driver. If I post here and say I’ve been extra tired and not really in the mood, and Dee comments (paraphrasing), if I were a better wife, I’d get you in the mood, and I’ll try harder to do so…
… Well, now I just feel terrible! It seems she thinks I’m disappointed in her, or our relationship, or something…
… And when she follows through on her comment, I’m sure I’ll find myself worrying that the only reason she’s trying to light my fire is because I posted a paragraph, and not because she actually wants my fire to be lit.
This is the cycle of stupid hang-ups this poor woman has to navigate.
Yes, empirically, logically, I realize this isn’t the case at all, but since when has reason and knowledge ever really trumped emotion and instinct? You know the stupid, teeny spider won’t hurt you, but you still get the willies when it drops off the ceiling onto your shoulder and runs up your neck and into your hair, right? People feel guilty when they shouldn’t all the time. Schadenfreude exists. So does claustrophobia. Examples of baser reactions overriding higher logic abound. It’s beyond control.
I am continuing to try and change things. As our rules dictate, I submitted the specific sexual adventure which she must make real within the next six months. I also submitted (as the rules allow) a request for a less involved act which she has to make real before the end of the month – though, if you actually read THAT one you’d see that even this request is more about her than about me… even my requests or demands are patently unselfish. I’m supposed to submit those once a month, and here, six months into the rules, and it’s the first time I’ve done so.
And I started looking around for a good strip club, too.
I can’t imagine that, from her perspective, I’m the guy on top of the evolutionary ladder here, the cream of the gene pool. There’s HAS be another guy out there who knows how to roast potatoes, and is still better acquainted with the rougher and more adventurous adult worlds than I am. Even I recognize that truth, and if anyone were biased in my favor, it’d be me. :)
I mention this because it feeds directly into the topic at hand: It doesn’t take much deduction to see I’m not comfortable with making demands or requests, sexual or otherwise. I’m just not that kind of guy. Never have been. Never will be. It makes me feel selfish, disrespectful. When I even consider such actions, the guy I see in the mirror suddenly turns into just another prick… one of those guys who gives good men a bad name and encourages women to embrace less flattering stereotypes.
I’m convinced there’s better matches for Dee out there somewhere, so it’s up to me to keep her happy... to take care of things and make her life easier; to keep the grass as green as possible over on my side of the fence. And to never, ever embody the selfish, disrespectful stereotype. She stuck with me because I wasn’t the stereotype – in fact, she dumped quite a few stereotypical guys along the way. I often wonder why, exactly, I'm trying to be more like one of “those” guys.
On the rare occasion I do share a particular thought or tidbit of information, I usually end up feeling equally uncomfortable later on… when Dee tries to act on the information. If I grumble about how I really hate unloading the dishwasher, and Dee gets up five minutes earlier and unloads it, I feel like a slave driver. If I post here and say I’ve been extra tired and not really in the mood, and Dee comments (paraphrasing), if I were a better wife, I’d get you in the mood, and I’ll try harder to do so…
… Well, now I just feel terrible! It seems she thinks I’m disappointed in her, or our relationship, or something…
… And when she follows through on her comment, I’m sure I’ll find myself worrying that the only reason she’s trying to light my fire is because I posted a paragraph, and not because she actually wants my fire to be lit.
This is the cycle of stupid hang-ups this poor woman has to navigate.
Yes, empirically, logically, I realize this isn’t the case at all, but since when has reason and knowledge ever really trumped emotion and instinct? You know the stupid, teeny spider won’t hurt you, but you still get the willies when it drops off the ceiling onto your shoulder and runs up your neck and into your hair, right? People feel guilty when they shouldn’t all the time. Schadenfreude exists. So does claustrophobia. Examples of baser reactions overriding higher logic abound. It’s beyond control.
I am continuing to try and change things. As our rules dictate, I submitted the specific sexual adventure which she must make real within the next six months. I also submitted (as the rules allow) a request for a less involved act which she has to make real before the end of the month – though, if you actually read THAT one you’d see that even this request is more about her than about me… even my requests or demands are patently unselfish. I’m supposed to submit those once a month, and here, six months into the rules, and it’s the first time I’ve done so.
And I started looking around for a good strip club, too.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
True Wife Confessions
One of the blogs I read is True Wife Confessions. I don't know why. It's like watching a train wreck. Maybe it makes me feel better about my life. Reading about other's misfortunes just makes me grateful for the life I have. This, however, was a post today that I could have written myself:
Confession #2855
Let me just say that you are wonderful. I am so grateful to have met you. You completely saved me from a-hole after a-hole. You're my best friend, a wonderful father, an excellent provider, a devoted husband, and a fantastic lover. I love you to the bottom and depth of my soul. It's been the greatest 18 years of my life and I would not trade you for George Clooney. I am now and forever yours as you are the best man I have ever known. We have a beautiful child and life is as good as it should ever be.
Truly.
Confession #2855
Let me just say that you are wonderful. I am so grateful to have met you. You completely saved me from a-hole after a-hole. You're my best friend, a wonderful father, an excellent provider, a devoted husband, and a fantastic lover. I love you to the bottom and depth of my soul. It's been the greatest 18 years of my life and I would not trade you for George Clooney. I am now and forever yours as you are the best man I have ever known. We have a beautiful child and life is as good as it should ever be.
Truly.
Today's Thoughts
1. It was nice to read Dee’s responses, though I’m really not sure about “Panties.” For me that word conjures up thoughts of the large white contraptions worn by grandmothers. I think it’s ‘cuz that’s what my mother called female underwear. She insisted that men wore underwear, and women wore panties, and there isn’t a whole lot that’s less sexy than your mother’s underwear.
2. I’ll give her another idea to post after she gets settled at work, and lets me know she wants it.
3. It’s been a couple weeks now since the last time we tried to participate in the HNT thing. Not sure we’ll get to it this week, either. Kinda bummed about that, and kinda not, and by that I mean…
4. … I keep complaining about my energy level being at an all time low, but it is. Which leaves me unmotivated, uncreative, and maybe even slightly depressed-feeling. And…
5. … My sex drive seems to be at a record low tide. I'm here thinking of things I might blog about (something which usually at least turns my thoughts towards what possibilities might exist for the evening), and I don’t feel even a mild stirring in the body. I’m in bed with a naked wife at the end of every day, and haven’t had a sexual though in my head in days. Granted, I did have a number of urges over the weekend (five, if I remember right), but those moments stand out against the backdrop of the last couple weeks like bright beacons… and one of the other reasons is because they were very transitory thoughts – along the lines of “Wow, she’s really looking good… I could totally just bend her over and… uh… oh… never mind.”
6. According to the rules (and a reminder sent this morning from Dee), today is the day when I am required to submit a specific sexual adventure or experience (meaning one in which orgasms are part of the package) that I wish her to make real within the next six months. So I have to come up with something, which might be hard to do, since I’m not feeling terribly creative, and decidedly un-sexual.
7. Speaking of which, I’m not a schmuck… yet. But I’ve gotta be getting close now. Our rules state that Dee must provide me with a suggestion for a non-sexual adult adventure (meaning an orgasm isn’t necessarily part of the package) on January 1, and I have to make it real within six months. Her request: take her to a strip club for a night out. Now, it’s been three months, and I haven’t even really given it a thought, let alone plan anything. My wife has asked me to take her to a strip club, and invited me to enjoy the sight of naked women, live and in person… and I haven’t done so. What kind of a yo-yo does that make me?
8. And even as I’m typing these things, my email inbox has popped up with another incoming flood of work (just as it did a couple weeks ago, and just as it did again last week)… making me feel even more tired, and more sick of everything, and more in need of a vacation. Seven new issues scanned and emailed from one branch office in the last five minutes. It’s going to be another one of those… weeks.
2. I’ll give her another idea to post after she gets settled at work, and lets me know she wants it.
3. It’s been a couple weeks now since the last time we tried to participate in the HNT thing. Not sure we’ll get to it this week, either. Kinda bummed about that, and kinda not, and by that I mean…
4. … I keep complaining about my energy level being at an all time low, but it is. Which leaves me unmotivated, uncreative, and maybe even slightly depressed-feeling. And…
5. … My sex drive seems to be at a record low tide. I'm here thinking of things I might blog about (something which usually at least turns my thoughts towards what possibilities might exist for the evening), and I don’t feel even a mild stirring in the body. I’m in bed with a naked wife at the end of every day, and haven’t had a sexual though in my head in days. Granted, I did have a number of urges over the weekend (five, if I remember right), but those moments stand out against the backdrop of the last couple weeks like bright beacons… and one of the other reasons is because they were very transitory thoughts – along the lines of “Wow, she’s really looking good… I could totally just bend her over and… uh… oh… never mind.”
6. According to the rules (and a reminder sent this morning from Dee), today is the day when I am required to submit a specific sexual adventure or experience (meaning one in which orgasms are part of the package) that I wish her to make real within the next six months. So I have to come up with something, which might be hard to do, since I’m not feeling terribly creative, and decidedly un-sexual.
7. Speaking of which, I’m not a schmuck… yet. But I’ve gotta be getting close now. Our rules state that Dee must provide me with a suggestion for a non-sexual adult adventure (meaning an orgasm isn’t necessarily part of the package) on January 1, and I have to make it real within six months. Her request: take her to a strip club for a night out. Now, it’s been three months, and I haven’t even really given it a thought, let alone plan anything. My wife has asked me to take her to a strip club, and invited me to enjoy the sight of naked women, live and in person… and I haven’t done so. What kind of a yo-yo does that make me?
8. And even as I’m typing these things, my email inbox has popped up with another incoming flood of work (just as it did a couple weeks ago, and just as it did again last week)… making me feel even more tired, and more sick of everything, and more in need of a vacation. Seven new issues scanned and emailed from one branch office in the last five minutes. It’s going to be another one of those… weeks.
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