It’s the complete switch in attitude that i find hard to adjust myself into.
(Yes, i know that there are grammatical flaws in that sentence. Sue me.)
But I try. I am making the effort, and so is CH. It’s not easy — marital sex NEVER held the same sort of excitement and anticipation as perverted eclectic slut-like sex. But i guess that’s derived from the way in which it was performed. The sense of something being forbidden and illicit will always yank up the adrenaline factor.
However, the marital sex is getting better. I found out, and this is after having known CH for 14-odd years and having been married for nearly 12 of them, that he has a foot fetish. Yes, a FOOT fetish.
This called for an immediate booking made for a pedicure and lacquering of my sorely-lacking-in-beauty toe nails. Heh.
So, this morning, CH comes back after dropping the kids at school and whathaveyou, and finds me in a towel. Forgetting his husbandly pounce-on-your-wife duties for a minute, he mumbled something about dropping something at home and running straight out to help his dad with something at his place.
I touched him on the arm, and said, “Do you have to go right now? I mean, don’t you have a spare hour or so?”
He looked at me blankly. I don’t think he slept very well last night (well, it was Hades-like hot here) and he wasn’t 100% focused.
I continued. “I mean, i’m all clean after my shower, and naked under my towel and everything, and the kids aren’t here… but i suppose if you have to go, so off you go.”
And i turned as if to walk into the kitchen when suddenly i feel him rip the towel off me and prod me into the bedroom. Holding the towel in both hands.
I can get used to this, and i will.