Spirals

It was a week ago that I wrote of the TALK and of sharing lives, but not bodies. Of course the problem is that if an oversexed man is denied sex – well, not a formula for staying at home. So we will lay there in bed and most nights I behave – stick to my side, only the most benign holding of hands. But other times I will make advances – not forward ones. More like a cat, never jumping on the lap, but the brushing against a leg, grazing a hand over an arm. Always maintaining the distance, but still the desire is apparent.

Carrie is not unaware and I can almost hear her thoughts – no sex at home will mean more cause to wander. As if I need an excuse at this point. So she will on occasion brush me with her hand – wandering south, seeing if I mean it. She will then pull me to her, tell me its okay, it’s her job. She will touch me – after eighteen years she knows all my spots.

But she will not let me touch her. Of course we are touching – I am in her. But as my hands try to wander, to explore, they are subtly blocked. Her body while shared is simultaneously off limits. There may be pleasure for me, but not for her. Long ago I wrote of “mercy fucks” and while these may seem the same, they are different. One was borne of her not wanting sex but wanting me to still have pleasure, the other is much trickier. One while usually short and sweet also had the possibility of taking on a life of its own. The other – there are no possibilities.

Woody Allen once said that his worst orgasm was right on the money and while still true, that was said a long time ago. I consider the truth of it but know that all orgasms are not created equal. I do not blame Carrie – I think her having any relations with me is a gift so long as I am sleeping with a man. But if her goal is to satisfy me at home, I fear it is not working. When we were on vacation having wild sex with abandon, it was possible to feel “bi”, to say maybe I can pull back from the precipice. But this – what can I think – a “two” minute release and roll right over? Then lay there and think about my “stolen” hour with my new friend, a literal hour of total sharing.

In an e-mail to a fellow traveler I wrote:
I wish I knew any answers - it is tough watching one's life disintegrating while knowing the "death-spiral" could be stopped and being unwilling to stop it.

He responded:
You talk of the death spiral we are in, but to be honest with you for as hard as this has been, I have never felt so happy about myself as I do right now. I have admitted to myself that i am 'gay'; and to the women who has given me the best part of her life that I am 'bi'. We have given them the happiness they wanted, our children are happy human beings on the right path, is it not our turn to find the happiness for ourselves, even if it means being in the arms of another hot man.

I still have a distance to travel, but cannot argue with his thoughts.