Hubby came to me yesterday with a very concerned look on his face and he asked if we could talk. Those are ominous words. "Can we talk?" Honestly, I wanted to say, "Do we have to?" but what came out of my mouth was, "Of course. What's up?"
I held my breath until I heard him say, "What's wrong? You don't want sex anymore."
First of all, that's how my hubby is. If something is amiss for a week or two, it's "forever." That's the way it will be for the rest of our lives.
Second, I told you yesterday that I've been on a deadline lately. Not only has that work kept me away from you, Prowlers, but it has also been making me get up early and get to bed late. I haven't been home as much, and when I have been home, I've been tired.
But not want sex anymore? Oh, please.
Apparently he noticed that his new-found love of anal has been leaving me...uh....unsatisfied. That's a good sign, but he was concerned because I wasn't pushing for it. The truth is that I have simply been too tired to have that conversation one...more...time.
So, I've been taking care of things myself, if you know what I mean.
I've been pretty open and blunt recently since we got things out on the table, so I just told him the truth - that it has been easier to handle it myself than to negotiate "getting mine" when he has been so happy about exploring anal. However, I added that his selfish sex season would be ending as soon as I got beyond by current deadline.
But he wasn't really concerned about me "getting mine" at all. He wanted to know if I was getting it somewhere else since I wasn't getting it at home. I really wished he would just ask the question straight up, but he didn't, so I threw him a line -
"And no," I said, "I haven't been having sex with anyone else during this period, except myself, of course."
I wanted to scream, "My vagina hasn't felt a live cock for weeks!!!! Ok, 10 days, but it feels like weeks. You have apparently forgotten that I'm female - I might as well be some guy since all you want is my ass, and JJ has been too busy for me lately. And you think I don't want sex???"
But I didn't say any of that. He felt reassured, and it ended there.
Last night, I got us to bed a little early, and I snuggled up against him, kissing his neck, tracing my finger along his inner thigh.
I asked, "So, you implied earlier that you wanted me to be more interested in sex, and I am, so......." I put his hand on my wet pussy to prove it.
And he told me he was tired and not feeling very well.
"Raincheck?" he asked.
"Of course, Honey," I responded.
Then I grabbed Spartacus and headed to the other room.
Yes, I am a frustrated Kat.