I have written here before about the sex arrangement my first wife and I had. She loved to have sex. That was never a problem, but her preference was ordinary sex. I would eat her until she came, and pretty much, she would lay back and spread for me. For the two years before we were married, we had sex about twice a day—once for me and once for her, as it were. I prefer sex at bedtime. It is a natural sleep enhancer. She preferred sex at 2 AM or some other such ungodly hour. After we got married and things settled down, we started to have sex once a night. I had no complaints with the frequency, but the monotony of missionary vaginal sex started to get to me.
For you regular readers—and I may be repeating myself here—, you may remember her as a stay at home wife with no kids who loved to receive oral sex but wasn’t so keen on giving it. I am an assertive guy, and I believe in communication, so I came out and asked her straight out what it was going to take for her to do something different. Through this communication, she said she didn’t like doing so many of the chores—despite, in my opinion, having little else to do all day—even though I worked all day and was taking evening classes. She said she would be willing to expand her repertoire if I agreed to lend a hand.
Well, as it went, there were several things I wanted at first:
• Anal Sex
• Oral Sex
• Her Shaven Pussy
As it turned out, this was all a pretty decent deal on my part, and I think we were both pretty happy at first. Since we had sex daily, I was busy doing simple menial chores, but she found utility in exchanging sex for these chores. I couldn’t complain. In exchange for what I wanted I did chores like these:
• Wash Dishes (We had no dishwasher at the time.)
• Mow the Lawn (We had a large yard.)
• Take out the Trash
That was about it. She would usually want a massage before sex, so I threw that is for no additional charge—kind of like Ginsu Knives: Order by midnight tonight!
Shaving was easy enough, except she had such a thick bush, she literally had five o’clock shadow come 5:00. I have never seen such a thing. Since generally the exchange was tit for tat, she might shave in trade for my doing the dishes. It was just the two of us. She would shave whilst I did the dishes, and then we could retire to the bedroom.
Oral sex was a different story. She didn’t like to give head. Even worse for me—I know; break out the violins—is that she wouldn’t swallow. Even if she had agreed before hand, as in, “I’ll swallow if you mow the lawn,” when push came to shove, I’d cum, and she’d gag or spit or who knows what? It came to the point that no matter what the arrangement was upfront—and I would remind her of the last time, and the time before that, and the time before that…—, she couldn’t bring herself to swallow.
That leaves anal sex. She did like anal sex. As a matter of fact, she so disliked oral sex, she was always offering anal sex in exchange—“no taste buds,” in her words. Whilst we bargained anal sex in a typical exchange, it started becoming a bait and switch deal. She would ask me to do this or that in exchange for a blowjob, but after I ate her, she would say something like, “Forget about the blowjob, but you can fuck me in the ass.” So, I didn’t refuse, but as many guys I know, I wanted what I couldn’t have. What I wanted was her to swallow after a blowjob. I have to admit that after about seven years of marriage until we finally divorced, I could count on one finger how many times she swallowed, but that’s a different story.
I didn’t mean to recount so much of the past. Let’s see if I can get back on track. My current wife and I have been married since 1996, and our sex has slowed down quite a bit. As communication is still important to me, I came right out and asked what we could do to remedy the situation. She knew about the arrangement my first wife and I had and thought it sounded unromantic and mechanical. She wouldn’t buy into it. However, she told me she felt she needed more romance and help around the house. Hmmm…, that certainly rang a bell, but I knew how she felt about the utility arrangement, so I kept mum.
She gave me a list of things I cold do that she would consider to be romantic. Or all of you not in the know, “romantic” is female code-speak for something that costs money. But here’s another tip: just because that rose costs $3, doesn’t mean you can skip the rose and offer her the $3.
So, to me the funny thing is I am the only source of income in the house. She is a stay-at-home wife and mum. We have a joint account, so she can buy herself a rose if she wants. Even funnier is when she buys me something with my money. I have to say that I am the consummate non-romantic. I just don’t see the logic in any of it, so I choose to say it as the price of admission.
Well, to make a long story longer, I compiled a list of things she wanted:
• A Romantic Comedy
• Starbucks’ Coffee
• And more similar things…
My list has never changed. On top of these, she felt overwhelmed with the chores, too, but, as I said, she wasn’t willing to do a tit for tat trade. Here’s how it is working out:
I did get her some cards, a DVD, and some Starbucks. She was happy to get these, and I did get sex that evening. OK, it seemed to be working out, but I am always leery about how long these types of arrangements work out. The next day she noticed I had done the dishes, but there was no payoff. I washed the dishes the following day and gave her another card, and there was a payoff. She made it clear that she would put out more often if she were in the mood more often—and this put her in the mood.
So, how is this different arrangement than with my first wife, save that the payout is less reliable. It is how you frame it. With my first wife it was all about the utility of having sex, rather like a mathematical equation:
Dishes = Shaving
Preparing Dinner = Blowjob
Lawn = Anal
With my wife now, it is not about utility—at least not to the same extent. Now it is about the reallocation of time. The gifts notwithstanding, she considers it an exchange of time. At the end of the day, she is tired. However, she finds it palatable to exchange time instead of money. If I can save from having to do half an hour of chores, she can spend the half hour having sex with me. That’s the difference. By framing the situation differently, I end up in ostensibly the same position, but this time the payoff is usually in the form of blowjobs. That’s diplomacy at its finest. Am I wrong?