CASE OF THE COOLING WIFE
Dear Playboy Author Boy,
I want sex every night, but I only get it three times a week. How can I get more? My wife is always making excuses, she says women don't orgasm every time so it's not fair to her. Takes too much, I'm not big on self gratification when I have a wife, any suggestions?
Blue Balled in Blue Bell
Dear Blue,
You're a moron. Most married men would kill to have sex three times a week. I've been divorced twice and it was never that frequent during the post-honeymoon phase with either wife.
Girlfriends, however, are different. When a woman knows you have options, it changes her thinking and focuses her on "now" instead of "I can have that whenever I want."
So after several girlfriends, many of whom I threw out of my place when they decided they didn't feel like sex, I've found the woman of my dreams who has an insatiable appetite. She never says no and is ready for anything, any time. And she's a knockout, great with my kids, great with my work buddies, keeps a hell of a house and is fantastic just to have a glass of wine with -- but I refuse to spoil all that by screwing up and marrying her. Marriage gives the female the power to have as much or as little sex as she wants, and the only weapons against that are cheating, but that's a nuke and the blowback from it kills the nuker.
My advice is, despite you not being big on self-abuse, on the nights in which she says no, snuggle up with internet porn. This will get you off adequately and give you some fantasy material for your next sexual encounter with the wife.
By the way, the time will come when you can't believe you got it three times a week, because it will be three times a year.
Not a happy answer, but there ya go. Didn't your father tell you it would be like this? Didn't you listen to your married friends before you did this?
Moron!
Sadly,
Playboy Author Boy
2 comments:
I have read through all of these postings now two times. I found them eerie yesterday-today, profoundly sad. My seat of the pants assessment is that you were sexually abused as a child. My guess is that it was your mother, for nothing less would bring forth such a pathological rage toward sexuality. ANd though your rage appears to be directed toward women, I believe it actually reflects a disgust towards yourself as a sexual being--this is often the case with men who have been sexually abused.
I hope that you get enough feedback from people to provide an impetus for you to see a professional regarding these issues. There are ways to work out rage and sexual self-loathing-but not without someone who is trained to deal with adults who were molested/raped as children. But, should you not get help, I beleive you should pay attention to the potential damage that you are doing to those who might be influenced by your writing. Having been injured yourself is not an excuse to further harm others. The unfortunate part of this is that there are people who will read your notes and actually folllow your advice. If you have even an incling of ethics-you would caveat your reader that your "relationship advice" arises from a very dark, disturbed place.
Here I thought my posts were ruthlessly honest and saw the world as it is, not how it should be. Then you come along and start broadcasting to the world that Mommy hurt me. Nice. Thanks a lot.
In case you didn't know, the world is full of people who are stunned to find how rarely relationships work. We've all been sold a bill of goods from the Hollywood movies about married bliss to the sitcoms with happy smiling but dumb husband.
Scott Adams in his Dilbert blog mentioned how reality is relativistic. What applies in my "bubble" is nonsense in yours. He used the example of athiesm and fundamental Islam and run of the mill Christians, each with a bubble within which there is an objective reality that makes sense, but outside of which that "reality" is bullshit.
Odds are, you are further from my world than Pluto is from Mercury. And that's okay. Just don't diss my lifesaving advice by saying it arises because my mom did things to me.
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