Hot, or Not?

I want to tell you all a little about our marriage, and the sex Mrs. and I have for several reasons. First to give insight into us that may entertain or help in some way. But, also, if you’ll humor me, I’d like to give context to the story which follows.

My wife is stoic about things she would rather not deal with. And she is very lively and dramatic about things she’d rather be about. My wife is not a huge communicator. She can and does communicate, but avoids it if she can. If she has to talk about something she’d rather not discuss, it comes out angry, demanding, or insistent.

She learned this from her family. They are all this way. They laugh about things they laugh about, and get sore about the rest. Usually, the light-hearted belly laugh, kindnesses, and even readily available criticisms orbit around pop culture. More personal stuff is off limits. She will talk, but if the topic falls on her wrong side, it tends to go badly. Her family is not the easiest  to get to open up about themselves, to apologize, or forgive. But, they are easy to get to laugh, have a good time, and pal around with as long as it stays in the pop culture arena.

I myself was raised to appreciate pop culture, but also, we took pop culture to heart. Meaning, we lived it, personally. We all sat around and lived life out loud with each other. Parents, sisters, brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, churched, and unchurched, all cut up. Nothing was off limits. We were serious about everything, and all was done in the context of family, God, and love. No one ever cried for being the butt of a joke. Even the butt would laugh. Saturday Night live humiliation style of comedy was normal for everyone. Plus, everyone brought their personal stuff out. What you were going through, how life was, and everyone offered support, help, and humor. This was never forced and very organic. We didn’t know everybody’s business, but no one was afraid to share, discuss, or offer.

See the problem? (I ask, while smiling and laughing.)

My wife is amazing. Don’t take what I say as complaining, because it’s more just  expressing, communicating. By God’s power and grace we have lived through quite a bit of this and still live to tell the tale. We are still in love and want nothing more than each other. Yet, this is the canvas on which our masterpiece is painted. Still, to this day, this dynamic creates problems. Less, though, today than early in our marriage.

Then, add all the other stuff of life, marriage, and kids complicating matters.

Sex is probably the hardest topic to discuss. My wife is sexual. She wants to have sex with me. She tells me so, and I see it without her telling me. But her sexual style is different than mine in both communication and activity.  I want to talk it out. She doesn’t. Change and different come very hard for her. Since she doesn’t discuss it, what she likes is what she allows or is okay with. What she doesn’t like is more shown by her body language, reacting with her body. Not hitting, nor really violent; rather clamping her legs together, turning away, that kind of thing.

She will talk. She does say things. But, she doesn’t like to be the bad guy, so she isn’t all that definitive if she says no. It’s like her mind is clouded so much with not wanting to do something that she won’t patiently seek words or actions to deal with it as a team. Or maybe she has never learned the skills of team work and communicating in marriage—or just learned them all different than me.

None of this is against-her-will stuff. It’s sex she has already said yes to, that I ask her permission to do, whether missionary style vanilla or something a little different for us. Nothing criminal or violent either, just common stuff.

Early on, and sometimes now, it is something she does at the time of sex. When all the green lights are on and I go to eat her out, she won’t open her legs. Or I’ve already made her cum orally three times in a row, and I want to make her cum another time or two, and she doesn’t want that. Instead of a peaceful protest to say she can’t go on, she wrestles my head out from between her legs. Instead of telling me she has had a sweaty day and doesn’t want me down there doing oral, she will clamp her legs closed and say nothing.

Only until I wrangle the words out of her do I learn she didn’t like her smell and was embarrassed for me to go down on her. I’m not perfect, and I have to learn to get along. I have to be a student of my wife. I get that. But I am not hard to get along with either. Certain topics just automatically bring out a certain defense.

I’m in the midst of being playful. I’m in my happy place. I have no intention of pain or hurt at all. She is willing, and I go in, but she closes up or stops responding. I try to playfully continue because the way she is acting isn’t a decisive anything. Playing hard to get is a thing. Then, I give up, wondering why she just doesn’t say something or be nicer about it? Maybe plan and express your desires before the clothes come off. We both end up feeling bad. I feel I treated her wrong. But remorse comes hard for her.

She doesn’t like to say no. I think she wants to please, but she really does not like arguing. Confrontation is not something she wants. She will avoid an argument until she can’t. Then is mad that she has to engage. She interprets asking “why” as me trying to out fox her and get my way. Or that I’m not willing to listen. In fact, I just want to know, to get my head wrapped around what is going on. I want to support her. Give me info. Help me help you.

She is abrupt with her reactions. Nothing abusive; it is her communication style. I can react abruptly, still nothing abusive. It is us trying to work things out. It could just be better, easier.

I don’t force my wife at all. If she doesn’t want to do it, we don’t. I am fine with that. I’d have it no other way. Over our 30+ years, I’ve learned to speak her language. Vanilla tastes good, too. I would never say vanilla sex is boring. Anytime I get to partake of my wife is a good time.

Because of this dynamic, our sex goes in seasons, from blistering hot to frozen cold and anything in between. This is not because of emotional anger, not temperatures of emotional jousting.  That may be in the mix, but I see it more as a difference in style. Her take vs. mine. It’s frequency and flavor. My wife and I are good. We are both pro-sex. It is just our dynamics differ.

We can hurt one another, as couples do, and she doesn’t bounce back easily. She keeps record of wrongs and finds it hard to forgive. So, if I’ve stepped in it, which I have, it’s tough to live down, no matter how much I change. This lends to the frequency and flavor of sex we do, or don’t, have. But, most of it I chalk up to life. Now, later in our marriage, we have learned to calm down and approach it together more. But now health, kids still in the home, age, work, etc. all play with our dynamic to the point where, now, frequency and flavor get severely challenged.

Autoimmune diseases and sex can be a real challenge. The few meds she takes could play into it, too. Her job is hard on her, but something she loves. Our sex started to hit its stride about 10 years ago. Then life happened. We seemed to be working out our traditional selves and getting into the hottest sex play we had ever had. I was thinking we were raising it to another level or two. Then, at a $500 a night hotel with private pool in the room, we have our sex. I came twice. She came 5 or six time already, and I’m ready for more. She was out by 9pm. The previous time we were both at it til 1am, easy.

This was when I began to see her health and stuff start to take over. Her health isn’t perilous. It’s that it has had its effect on other issues of illness, pain, and stress. I don’t judge her, I love her, and I understand. If I came from her family and life, I’d be the same. I’m no cake walk, either, as it is.

So, the seasons of good sex maybe behind us. I don’t know. For the last 6-10 years things have gone downhill. When first married, sex was 5-7 times a week. Maybe more. Now, we are down to 1 time in 6-8 months. All because of health and life, not anything of a dislike for each other.

All of this is from my perspective; she’d probably say something different. I could be wrong, but it’s my heart. Keep this in mind, as you read this story.

One anniversary we stayed a few days out of town. Our season of no sex was into a month-long drought. Usually our no sex seasons were because she was out of it. But, this time was all me. Or, at least I, too, was out of it.

I developed an itch a few weeks prior to our anniversary—an itch in my groin and on my pinky toe. It was slight. Nothing really. I thought nothing of it. Later, I realize it was not going away. It’s intermittent. It goes away long enough to make you think, okay, we are on the mend, or it’s gone. Then, it would come back. I started looking into it online, tried some home remedies… nothing. I started using over the counter stuff for jock itch and athletes foot. Same. It still was not enough to get serious about. All along my skin showed no irritation. No swelling, no rash, nothing. Just an itch. Same potency. Just not going away.

On the way to our hotel, my wife asks how down there is doing. She knows all about it being an itch. I explain all the above to her. I’m okay with sex, and so is she. We have wonderful sex each night. We have a good time. Happy Anniversary!

All this time, no one else is complaining of any persisting itches. Wife and kids all know and they are all fine.

A couple of weeks after our Anniversary, I finally went to the doctor. I tell her all I know. I was wondering in the back of my mind if she was going to look. I was really hoping she wouldn’t. The interview happened, and it wasn’t until I told her about my toe that she wanted to see it. The toe, that is. So, she was curious to see how things looked. I was thanking God, she didn’t want to look at my groin. She prescribed some medicine. Cross my fingers, right?

Two bouts of prescribed medicine, each with refills, and nothing. The itch seemed to be spreading a little. I was not wanting to have sex, for fear of something spreading to my wife. Still, no one in our house had any itching to speak of. I went back to over the counter treatments. Finally, a few months later, I caved. I had my wife make an appointment with a dermatologist. But the first appointment they had was two months away. I just kept trying to treat it with anything, hoping to not have to see the dermatologist.

A woman in our small group at church said she went to a dermatologist and had to be completely naked. She said the Dr. looked at EVERYTHING. Great. Just what I wanted to hear. Not!

Now, my wife and I hadn’t had sex for about four months. You might be asking if I jacked off. Occasionally. But, no, I don’t do that as much as I used to. Yet I do have a rather big imagination. Back in school, I used to draw and write a lot. Plus, I had been an avid user of porn and masturbator from a pretty young age. I have no problem imagining stories and scenarios. So, after two months of dealing with my itch, I had time to imagine me naked at the dermatologist. No, we weren’t having sex in my mind. I was torn between not wanting to go and having to go. So, my desire to avoid it balanced out thinking too much about a doctor fiddling with my dick.

I can honestly say I never got hard over thoughts about the skin doctor. But my cock did try. By the time it rolled around to go, I was having arousing thoughts, but still nothing of a rocket ship hard on. At times my cock would swell, but I’d move on, still really wanting to avoid it rather than go.

A few days before, my wife asked if I wanted her to go with me to the skin doctor. Yes! I wanted that very much. Part of my thought was, what if I get hard during the exam? At least, if I did while she was there, it would be more okay than if she weren’t. But, I did feel more confident it would not happen with her there. I did ask my wife, what if I got an erection? She didn’t really mind; she said she’d understand since a person would be touching me.

Day of the appointment, and I was nervous. Nervous because I’d rather not have another person touch my dick, and that was going to happen. And nervous that I might get hard. I did not want that to happen while, in my mind, there was a touch of arousal to it all. Nothing sinful at all. Just the whole scene of being the only one naked in front of strangers, potentially women, and my wife. Being handled by another person. I mean, I am a man, and this was going to happen. My cock swelled a couple of times that morning, once in the waiting room. I was also semi-hard driving there.

In the room, they were all very professional. The kid in me that feared this more than anything was being put at ease. The nurse assured me they had seen it all. I was getting more calm.  Then she said to remove all my clothes and put on the gown. I asked if I really had to? She said it’s the only way they can examine me. She left. Off came my clothes.

Sitting on a really nice exam chair/table in a very nice black hospital gown, we waited. My wife was playing on her phone, me just sitting there. Left to my own mind, now I was just all mister patient. I was here to get examined. All business.

I just hoped the doctor would be a dude in his 80’s, or at least a woman in her 100’s. Please be someone ugly, a guy, old, whatever, anything, but…

She walked in, easily in her twenties. Maybe 5’6″, straight dark hair up in a ponytail, not skinny, not fat, black framed glasses. She was not ugly. Great, yay, the icing on this cake I didn’t want to be in the room with.

She leaned me back in this awesome chair; like an exam table and a dentist chair had a baby. She introduced herself. We chatted, with me getting to tell her everything I told the nurse, who came in with her, by the way. The first thing she checked was my toe. She said good news, I didn’t have athletes foot.

Ok, awesome! Can I leave, now?

Then, she scooted around to my right side. She asked me to turn to her as I reclined. She lifted the gown and told me to spread my legs. Right knee was flat pointing to her, my left knee was pointing straight up. An L. Now, all the stuff I had closed up and warm was being exposed to the cold air of the room. It felt good. My balls rolled away from my thigh. That felt good, too. But business was on my mind.

She asked me where exactly was the itching. I pointed it out. The doctor started in with her gloved hands, moving my balls, my scrotum, looking in the folds between my thighs and groin. The gown caught on my left knee so I couldn’t see, only feel, what she was doing—probably God’s way of helping a brother out. Just as I explained above, she was seeing no signs of jock itch.

She kept examining as we talked. I gave more information as she looked around. Then, she pulled my foreskin down off my penis head all the way and stretched it down further to see. That caught me off guard. Her peeling my foreskin back really felt good. It was nothing dick-hardening, but up until that point I was in doctor-patient mode. Now, I had felt pleasure. My warm penis head was now exposed to her, the room, and to the cold air. There was no getting around this feeling.

She twirled my penis head around in her fingers, looking at all sides of my head and foreskin. Finally, she looked up and explained what she was not seeing and what she thought was going on.

At this point, she was not quite done examining. But she was looking at me and my wife while still holding my penis in her fingers. I started to realize that although I was still soft, I was slightly more “formed” than at the start. I definitely aware that my dick was more defined than before she started. But she just kept talking with my dick in her fingers. I started to wonder how this was going turn out if she kept this up.

All this happened in a matter of seconds or maybe no more than two minutes. My wife asked questions, and still holding my penis, the doctor looked around the room while listening. Then she looked down at my penis in her hand and got a curious look on her face. She adjusted as if addressing something and moves her other hand to what she sees.

I felt her free hand’s index finger glide across the tip of my penis head, sliding over the urethral opening. Clearly touching. Wiping it. The gown is still in the way, so all I see is her face, eyes, and expressions. And the feelings on my penis. After the touch, she seems to look at her fingers with a curious look. Nothing was said. She didn’t look at me. She kept listening to my wife. No reaction at all to what just happened. She continued the discussion and went on.

It dawned on me, it was pre-cum. When I swelled up earlier, before being in the exam room, it was feeling very arousing and sexual—like I was getting hard for a reason. My pre-cum presents itself if I start getting hard or go fully erect, then go soft. That’s exactly what she wiped away.

She then released my penis and asked if there was anything else. I was ready to be done. She explained my itching was nerves and sent her results to my family doctor. There was no indication that the pre-cum was offensive nor anything to address. She left just as any other doctor would any other time.

Later, I asked my wife if I was a good patient. She said I was. I asked her what she felt about another woman touching her husband. She said she was not looking at any of it, at all, at anytime. Which, if it were my wife being examined, I would’ve watched.

I did not tell my wife about the pre-cum.

All in all, I was cool with the exam and the pre-cum. It was not a sin. I did not make anything happen. It was all innocent. After the fact, I kinda enjoyed that it happened. But, I am concerned about doctor/patient confidentiality. In the end, I’m a sexual man. But I also don’t want to be a pest or a creep of any kind.

So, the title above is, Hot, or Not? Please comment what you think. What are your thoughts on arousal during doctor visits? Comment on our marriage dynamic. Whatever, you like or dislike. As of yet, I have not replied to people’s comments to my posts. Thus far, I just like letting people respond and leave them to it. I hope this does not offend anyone. I may comment to comments if it is really needed. But, please, comment. Thank you.

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