Yesterday I closed my blog with an opening: for various reasons, my hubby won’t come in me. I blame the birth pill on this. How’s that?
Well, because engineered estrogen is toxic for women, he never allowed me on the pill (not that I was too fond of it). He realized that natural prevention of pregnancies is the way to go. The best of it is aspirin, you take one aspirin and keep it tight between your knees. You’ll never get pregnant if you do this in bed.
But I couldn’t fool hubby with this brutal aspirin method. The pull-out method was a usual one that we practiced in our marriage (the condom suffocates, he said). It was quite effective, the pull-out method. I got pregnant three times. Because he was too captivated by the act and forgot to pull-out. And that happened more than three times in all those years. Plus, if you make love Friday, Saturday and Sunday in a row then your chances to get pregnant are high, even if he pulls out in time — which is tricky to begin with.
Then my last carriage and the birth of our twins (one normal birth, the other by cesarean section about half an hour later) frightened him more than me. It’s a known phenomenon in men after 30. He developed a syndrome of over protecting me. So he placed the “pill” in his mind.
“Don’t come in her,” says a constant voice deep down the paths of his subconscious while his little head plays with me. It’s been over a year since my menopause became official. I can’t get pregnant anymore! Still the inner voice won’t let go. Although he tries not to listen to it. We also tried the best tasteful lubricant known to man (olive oil), music, erotic movies (with us, mind you), sex while standing up or in the backyard. Nothing worked, he won’t come in me. Sometimes he reaches orgasms without ejaculating. But that’s about all.
Two exceptions confirm this rule of our sex life. Couple years ago, at the seaside in Croatia, he was excited enough to come in me. I was at perimenopause at that time. For years, my periods were gradually vanishing. I exited the gray area shortly thereafter, when the doc confirmed that periods won’t bother me. However, he made me buy a couple of pregnancy tests “just to make sure.”
The second exception happened early in this spring when he got really nervous about a project and the client. He said WTF, closed his laptop and came to me to get the F-word away from that stupid thing. And the rage came out of him in a surprising warm white jet. Well, I felt the warmth inside but couldn’t see the white. Unlike during our regular sex sessions.
These two exceptions confirm the presumption that a psychological barrier prevents him from coming in me. Because when his mind was completely turned off — in Croatia by over excitement at the beach and in spring when disconnecting from a stress overload — then he finalized the act normally. This happened only once a year, two years in a row, and (if you’re new around here) we’re the mad in love married couple having sex on a daily basis.
The funny thing is that our foreplay is normal intercourse, the good part of it is that he lasts as long as I allow him, then we go sixty-nine for completion. On a regular basis.
And the third birth-control natural method is oral sex. Works wonders and never fails!
About the importance of oral sex in marriage, I’ll present you a case from the 90s, when a good friend of mine hired me to divorce her from her husband, a good friend of Don’s. I practiced as a divorce lawyer, among others. But in this case I secretly teamed with hubby to save their marriage, which we did. Details in my next blog.
Until then, more nude photos from the garden. Err, Don tells me to write these are sketches he made by processing two photos he took yesterday. The above one uses a “landscape painter” effect while the sketch below is a “pastel” done with FX-Foundry in The GIMP. I don’t understand much, if anything, from this geek slang, so I wrote as he told me to.