From that point in 2006 until the fall of 2008, I worked my ass off.
In every sense of the word. In December 2006 my husband and I took our dream of being business owners to the next level. We weren't sure what we would do, what it would look like, just that we wanted it. It was a long grueling process, one that he was ready to just quit on several times. That is his nature. I wouldn't. I refused. Every small victory was huge to me...every license, every bank meeting, every franchise that we researched, all of it. He was excited too, yet, pessimistic. The process brought us closer on many levels, but sexually we drifted further apart.
He began having impotency issues. At first I was confused. I thought it was me. I discovered, several times, porn on his computer. And not that I cared that he was looking at porn, but I cared that he was being secretive (even lying about it), and that for someone that had ZERO desire to have sex with me, it made no sense. One night I found that he had been looking at TONS of young, "barely legal" skinny blonds. I LOST IT. Stormed out of the house and left. Drove 40 minutes to a friend's house, where I no longer protected him. I shared with her and another girlfriend (both from church) an abbreviated version of our issues.
I tried hard to be patient. I love giving blow jobs. I would patiently take him in my mouth, have him aroused, only for him to lose it moments after entering me. I was (and still am to a point) convinced that it was me.
I tried new lingerie, started wearing random hot numbers to bed. Bought different lubes, sex toys, and would try to build up sex throughout the day with text messages and whispers in his ear. Once I had the kids go to grandmas, and surprised him...he came home to find me scantily clad, laying on the couch, watching porn. It should be noted that I am not, nor have I ever been, a frumpy mom. Hair, makeup, and toe nail polish are mandatory with me. Matching bras and panties are a must. No matter what weight I have been, looking put together has been important.
Nothing really helped. It seemed that the ONLY time that he could maintain an erection, and last a little longer than a few minutes, was if he was entering me from behind.
Now don't get me wrong, I love all positions. There is nothing like a good ass slapping while being fucked from behind. Yet, I took it personal. Was he pretending it wasn't me? Not wanting to look at me?
Most times, I would just roll over and quietly cry. Sometimes, I would get angry, and we would fight. I begged him to go to the doctor, and began researching medical causes. Nothing made sense...I read somewhere that if a guy wakes up with erections, that impotency is not the issue. That it is psychological. He always woke up hard.
He had never made me feel insecure about myself until this point. I always felt that some of his compliments were fake, yet he tried. He was, and is, overly affectionate in front of my family, and that bothers me. He fronts like an ultra horny man, yet isn't. Kissing had become nonexistent because of his constant use of chewing tobacco. I never knew when he had some in his mouth, and I refused to kiss him.
And I began taking a hard look at myself, and my body.
