By Evan Field
I was out to drinks with nine other men (all married with kids), shootin’ the shit, watching some random college basketball game that we all pretended to care about, and kind of sulking in our nachos and beer. In comedic relief, one of my friends said out loud, “So … I am glad to see you guys are all getting laid as often as I am! Aren’t our wives amazing?” Everyone laughed and then the complaining began …
I heard everything from “My wife thinks I am disgusting” to “She tries to coach me while we are in the middle of it” to “I am so sick of feeling disappointed that I am the ONLY one who thinks about sex” to “I am pretty sure my wife has turned into a nun”. Then the conversation jumped to a different branch on the Tree-of-Wife complaints.
Now the guys were discussing all of the TV shows, movies, and books all of our wives are obsessed with INSTEAD of being obsessed with what we all wish they would be obsessed with: US!
After hearing all the titles such as Revenge, The Affair, 50 Shades of Grey, Masters of Sex, Sylvia Day books, Tiffany Reisz books, ANYTHING with vampires … the list was getting longer and nodding heads of frustrated agreement showed that everyone was in the same boat.
Then I said to all the guys: “Isn’t it interesting that for all of the women whom we accuse of having dead libidos or sexual dormancy, they sure fill their time with a ton of sexual material!”
This scared a lot of the guys as they instantly felt their self-confidence disappear. But I was right. We complain and assume that our wives/partners are sexual camels who only screw us to fill some undefined quota. But as I think about all of the entertainment they view or read:
Could it be that maybe women actually think about and WANT sex more than we do? Could it be that the sex we offer them and fight for … just isn’t what taps into their fantastical urges?
I thought about this a lot after that night. I decided to watch some of the steamier episodes of the shows/movies that we mentioned. I read some of the chapters and forwards of the books that were snarled about. I wanted to know what it was that captured the sexual attention more than me inviting my wife into the shower (which rarely gets a ‘Yes’). The female material began to feel like an enemy of war to me … winning my wife’s gaze, capturing the biting of her bottom lip, all of the emotions and reactions that I thought I conjured at one time in our life. So I figured I have two choices …
I can either accept the situation and sulk, OR I can change the situation and win my wife back. I chose the front lines.
Same as the fiction writers STRATEGICALLY hooked my wife, so too will I use creative sexual strategy.
I studied the enemy more intensely to find out some of the common themes and tactics that earned my wife’s devotion. But I was frustrated from finding the “Story Studs” coming from different backgrounds, different personality traits, some dominant, some laissez-faire, but no commonalities that I could pinpoint. Then I looked to the details of the physical acts. The details were all paced, poetic, full of non-cheesy metaphors, void of anything that resembled our sex.
OKAY … Interesting … Bingo.
I needed to provide something different. I need to offer myself with a different voice, a believable and confident message that I can deliver to my wife that will make her want to engage in my creativity.
I needed to figure out how to make REALITY desirable. Waiting for her to want to have sex has been the bane of my existence. I’d had enough.
I can write and I am creative. So I will now share what I did and said … Believe me, it took me many hours of thought to come up with the approach I thought would have the best chance for success.
One evening (after the Little People were asleep) when my wife was in our home office browsing Facebook and Pinterest, I sat at the kitchen table (after preparing some things in the bedroom) and began a texting conversation with her that went as follows …
Me: “I thought about you a lot today.”
Her: “Really, how so?”
Me: “I was thinking about several things that I have noticed over the past couple of weeks that you need to know about.”
Her: “I don’t want to fight, tread lightly.”
Me: “I need you to stay seated and to read with attention what I have to say.”
Her: “Okay, shoot.”
Me: “I watched your neck when you turned to order your food at the restaurant last week. I couldn’t stop looking at your neck … the skin, the color, the curve, it was pretty much the only thing I could think about during dinner even though we were with our friends. I had an incredibly hard time concentrating on anything else.”
Her: “Wow … you didn’t tell me about that.”
Me: “A couple of days later I noticed something else while you were walking out the door. I watched how your hair draped your back and it was intriguing, maybe because I love the arch of your back.”
Her: “Holy Shit.”
Me: “Do I have your attention?”
Me: “I want you to come into our room and look on the bed at what I left for you to change into. Tonight, it would be in your best interest if the word ‘no’ wasn’t in your vocabulary. I want to focus some attention on some of the parts of you that I have noticed in the past several weeks. You have nine minutes before I join you in the room. GO.”
I instantly heard her run down the hall.
I tapped into my wife’s fantasy world and her mental orgasm had now begun.
What she watches on the screen or reads in a book is tantalizing because of the metaphors that do not make sex ugly. She is never turned on by guilt doled out for not wanting me enough. She is grossed out when I comment on how good her ass looks. She is downright bored of being asked if she’s in the mood. She doesn’t need a billionaire with a sex dungeon, a hunky fireman, a scenery in the Hamptons, or an architect with an Italian accent. She just needed her heartbeat to be jumpstarted and surprised. She needed to hear me in a different voice.
That night was truly different than most of our sex over the past several years. It was not the actual sex that made the orgasm better, rather it was the fantasy I had created and satiated. The only problem now is, how the hell am I going to top this?< back