Sex and History

The different histories of Bill and I should probably come into play here. So, you're about to learn more than you probably want to know. Wait - if you didn't want to know you probably wouldn't come in here. So void out the TMI. This is the deal.

Coming into our relationship, I was the more experienced of us. Really. As in I am the only one with prior experience at all. I know some people would call BULLSHIT on any guy who maintained his cherry until he reached the ripe old age of 25 (when there is no religious or moral objection to sex), but it's totally true. I know he wouldn't lie about it, and quite honestly, it was very obvious to me that he was the real deal the first time we had sex. Ugh, but kind of awkwardly cute, you know?

Bill was not a serious dater. He'd go out with a girl once or twice and that would be it. So, in essence, he never was with a girl long enough to reach the bedroom, unless he was dating bar flies or one-night-standers, which are totally not his type. He's conservative, and when I was 23, that was really appealing to me for a number of reasons. It was not until within the last year that I found out Bill never made out with girls in high school, and only a couple in the college-age years. WTF?!

I, on the other hand, was a serial monogamist. I lost my virginity at 18 (although I claim no rights to supreme innocence from about age 14 on) to a guy I'd known for years and deeply loved. He was one of four lovers before Bill. I'm all about quantity within the quality. In other words, I was choosy about who I slept with, but once it happened with each partner, I was a fucking rabbit. I tried to have a one-night stand when I was 21. It turned into a nine month relationship (at his request). Go figure.

Anyway, what's really missing between Bill and I is a connection. He cannot connect emotions and sex. In his world, they are two entirely separate ideas. And let me tell you, he buries his emotions so deep that not even the coal miners would be able to find them. Bill prefers it that way. He actually told me the other night that we have sex "just because it feels good." That's it? Yes, in his opinion, that's it. I guess by "we" he means "him," because I'm certainly not happy. This is a problem for me for many reasons. I recently had an e-mail convo with a friend about this. Here's what I had to say in that e-mail:

The Triquetra that I wear around my neck is symbolic of the mind, body, spirit connection - which is paramount to my life. In our instant gratification driven culture, we've taken the mind/spirit part out of lots of things, including (unfortunately) sex. Not that I haven't been one to round out an evening with getting pounded like a cheap steak from time to time, but I digress. Sex, in a tantric sense, is about the union of compassion and wisdom. How deep and mind-blowing is THAT shit? And on top of the yummy feel-goodness of it all? Now THAT is some love making. I believe that sexuality is a force FAR more powerful in the spiritual sense than we would like to acknowledge because it would complicate our primal desire to drag a piece of ass to the finish line on the weekend. Sexuality is the only force capable of creating life, and the life force is the strongest force we can experience on this planet. So, in short, we deny ourselves the experience of the greatest power known to humankind for the sake of biological instant gratification. Not that there's anything wrong with that if that's all you want. But that doesn't address the spirtiual need that many of us have (myself included) for intimacy.

Bill believes that two emotionless kisses should be sufficient foreplay. He was actually offended recently one night when I told him I wasn't ready (I mean really physically not ready). He pouted and went to sleep. He doesn't kiss me during sex. He doesn't look me in the eye. He doesn't stretch or even pretend to reach for my satisfaction. We've had several conversations about this over the years, and it falls on deaf ears. I've even invited him several times to "the show" so he can learn my ways, but he only hangs on for a couple of minutes and then rolls over and goes to sleep. So, basically, I feel like a fuck rag.

I would venture to say I could count on one hand how many times we've had sex in the last year. Sad. Especially for a girl who's hitting peak time. And who wants it all the time, but not just for the physical aspect - I need the emotional as well. But not from him. No, I'm not running around. I'm just horny, lonely, and frustrated as hell.