This post is just an articulation akin to those that I've conducted for my own selfish purposes in the past.
So I just got done fingerbanging m'lady, and the events of tonight have ruminations swirling in my head.
Though unspoken, I could feel a sense of disappointment in the lack of participation by my penis. The reality of it was that I just wasn't really feeling amorous tonight, but I have yet to proclaim an outright refusal since this adventure began (6 months ago). I loosely label myself as asexual, but I am still susceptible to carnal urges. I tend to enjoy them during states of intoxication or occasional mornings, but I'm not so amiable to nights and post-feedings. I shared these particulars early in the relationship, but it may have been counterproductive to creating an understanding since that overlapped a period of mental novelty. Also, I'd say I'm a pretty good steelworker, and now I feel like I've set the bar too high; I've set myself up for failure.
We've gotten on quite well, but I've been feeling the pressure lately. She likes to instigate at night, and I typically have fresh memories of stuffing my innards at those times. I've obliged in each case, which can be summarily categorized for me to fall under pleasure palace or evening chore. There have been no spans of time that allow me build up a sufficient offensive, and I feel like that has been perceived. She hid all of my underwear last week while I was in the shower and instructed that I had to earn them back. It was a bit of a fun exercise, but it seemed to have had the repercussions of putting me on the silent defensive. Has it gone this far? Has the abundant thrusting fatigued me so much that blackmail had to enter the foray?
My unfiltered candor was a major factor in the nearly fatal blow of my last relationship, thus I have been employing tact this time. Therein lies my obstacle. I'm not used to this, for it was so easy just to spout blunt truths and derived opinions that I've had no practice in any other art. I am trying to be more sensitive, and I feel like I am working with the wrong set of tools.
I have a suspicion that she might be seeking validation. She tells me about the random strangers that hit on her every other day without offering any clues regarding the species she's fishing from me. Yes, she's pretty, but am I supposed to reverberate this notion every time whilst being agonized by the tedium of repetition? I want to exclaim that I've been witness to such encounters so many times that each remix is utterly uninteresting. However, I refrain and only reply in levity and inquiry as my personality permits. This will build up to a rift, a catalyst of discourse that sets all records straight, but there's still nothing but continuity on the horizon from my current perspective.
I'll vacate rhetorical and self-reflective questions to ask this: what would you do in this situation? My little stump and I are a little stumped.
Bookmarks