** WARNING **
DO NOT READ THIS POST IF YOU ARE MY FATHER, OR ONE OF MY KIDS (you'll be scarred! Scarred I tell ya!), OR RELATED TO ME IN ANYWAY... LEAVE THIS PAGE NOW IF YOU ARE AN IN-LAW (please don't do this to me or yourself). SHUT DOWN YOUR COMPUTER AT ONCE IF YOU ARE EASILY EMBARRASSED, SQUEAMISH, UNABLE TO LOOK ME IN THE EYE AFTER READING JUICY DETAILS ABOUT SEX AND ESPECIALLY IF YOU DON'T LIKE THE WORDS WET, F**K or PUSSY. GET IT? GOT IT? GOOD!
Okay, let's break it down: Sex, boffing, nookie, quickies, porking and poking, to a married woman, sometimes feels like a chore, a task, another domestic duty. It's just something else a monogamous woman has to add to her mental, emotional and physical list of 'pleasing' others. It's neither fun nor painful but just .. well.. just plain annoying, kinda like having to feed the kids. Every. Single. Damn. Night.
Rumpy-pumpy with an eager-to-please partner can be considered much like an internal examination, except it's not happening every two years, it's expected daily, twice daily for some! The type of internal I am discussing here is where a doctor, regardless of gender, shoves their hand 'up there' and cops a good feel for their own (medical) satisfaction. The only difference between doctor and hubby's styles is that the doctor is looking for anomalies, concerned for your health and wellbeing, while the husband is frantically searching for the exclusive (and elusive) G-Spot, concerned for his sexual prowess and masterful carnal abilities. Nope, that's not it, Sweetie. You've gone too far and now you're scratching the back of my tonsils.
It's during these 'internals' with your man that you are likely to be flat on your back thinking "Are you done yet?" Or disapproving your sharp unmanicured fingernails, or even after a few long minutes of thrusting you begin the desperate and silent prayer for one of the kids to wake up so he will have to hurry the f**k up and finish off.
Sex can sometimes mean your lady bits get rubbed like your man is polishing silverware. Really tarnished silverware. A really tarnished silver lamp. A really tarnished silver Genie lamp. Furiously rubbing that special lamp to make a magical Genie appear.. from your vagina. Sometimes you wish that Vulva Genie would indeed appear so you could make your three wishes -- the first: that he stops rubbing you before he chafes your pubic bone.
Sometimes sex involves lots of kissing like they do in the movies. Except it's actually reality f**ktard and your breath smells foul. And why do all this licking and kissing caper when your baby momma has just showered. Gross! So you're now covered in saliva! Second wish: breath mints and a cold shower -- for him!
Sometimes, in the lead up to sex, your husband's version of foreplay (which goes on all day) is a slap on the arse, a grope of the tits, a few rotatory swings of his dick and a suggestively asked question "So, how 'bout it?" Wish three: f**k off!
For the small group of women that I know and can have these intimate discussions with, this all seems relatively normal. Normal to rate sex and chores at the same level -- especially during a long-term relationship.
But I don't dare speak for all women, because I happen to personally know a few exceptions to this and they are real life, everyday women who are just absolutely crazy for a bit of horizontal hula. They'd be balls deep all day with their husbands if they didn't have to work or eat or feed the fruit of their pounding loins. They're like rabbits on viagra, they can't get enough of the salami feeding the kitty! God bless their raging meat-loving pussies! For me, though, sometimes I'd rather just go ahead and poke myself... in the eye... with an actual salami.
Hey, while we are talking poking, here's a good tip to all men out there -- when a woman says "make it quick" -- mate, you need to move that broomstick like a lightning bolt, alright?! In-out, in-out, roasted? Good now get off us, we got shit to do.
Sex isn't like in the movies, and the only time it is remotely close to that passionate and consensual ecstasy is in your dreams... with Channing Tatum... and sometimes his wife. Sex is an avoidance. It's women sneaking into bed, usually unsuccessfully, because even though he doesn't hear the kids cry at night he can certainly hear the non-existent purr of your pussy.
So many men whine about their wives not 'putting out' enough, but -- hey, Princess -- put out the washing, put the kids to bed, put your dick back in your pants and maybe we might consider putting out more often. But, hey, probs not.
Disclaimer: I love my husband, and in Australia he'd be known as a "decent shag". He's not selfish in the bedroom and likes to please, which is sometimes his downfall coz when you're not in the mood and he wants you to be in the mood things can really drag on. My husband hangs out the washing, bathes the little kids, runs the big kids to sports, he does get up at nighttime and he always puts the little kids to bed at night when he's home. If only he could learn that slapping his willy on the end of the bed isn't considered "foreplay" and maybe understand that dicks are ugly no matter which angle you look at them, but more so when they are doing a helicopter trick in front of you. In all honesty, most days I am actually very sexually attracted to my husband, he is handsome and funny and would do anything for me and sex is love and I love him immensely... Then he starts chewing and then I just want to slap him across the face. Love you, Sweetie xx
This blog first appeared on Cristy O'Brien's website.