Woof!

“In every woman, I came to realize, there is a desire to be naked, a desire to be seen naked.”
 ― Chloe Thurlow
 
“I think on-stage nudity is disgusting, shameful and damaging to all things American. But if I were young with a great body, it would be artistic, tasteful, patriotic, and a progressive religious experience.”
― Shelley Winters

“To bark or not to bark, that is the question—
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The squirrels and the mailmen of outrageous fortune,
Or to raise a leg against a sea of troubles
And by peeing end them.”
~ Anonymous

 

 One of the things I did when I was in college was to be an artist's model for art classes, as I've mentioned before. I was also a photographer's model, both for professionals and for amateur photo clubs. It was easy work that paid okay and I got to be an actual calendar girl. No, really. 

I mention this because el jefe, my husband, likes for me to be his photo model. Photos he particularly likes he enlarges and prints out and hangs up in his office and workshop (he loves woodworking, making furniture, cabinets and that sort of thing as a hobby). So, naturally, when men are in his office discussing business matters and what not, or guys are in his shop helping him or just hanging out with him, they see those photos -- of me in all my refulgent glory, just as the great God above made me. El jefe says that when God made me he was just showing off, lol.  The dope sure knows how to send a girl's vanity soaring.

Anyways.... What I was getting to is that one of our couple friends, for whom el jefe is making a chiffarobe, dropped by the other day and visited his workshop to see how things were going. The wife stayed chatting with me for a bit before we joined the men in the workshop. 

When we showed up, her husband was standing in front of one of my photos checking it out and saying something to my husband. His wife cleared her throat and he turned and said, "Oh, hello, dear, we were just waiting for you, what do you think of it so far?" going over to the work in progress and waving a hand at it. 

She glanced that way, then shifted her gaze to the photo he had been examining with some interest. When she realized it was me, she gave me a look. Such a look. Oh, such a look. I shrugged, looking as innocent as possible.

Other than that, nothing happened and the visit carried on normally, except that her husband more than once sidled toward me to chat and she interposed herself most adroitly. My husband appeared not to notice what was going on, as did I. We had a nice lunch, they approved of the chiffarobe and we talked about the weather and the stock market and whatnot.  

When they left, I punched el jefe on the bicep and he grabbed me and swung me around.

"What did that guy say to you when he was looking at my picture?" I asked.

"Oh, he just said you were a hot number."

"A what?  He did not! That's like slang from the 1930s or something."

"An HB 10. That's a hot number."

"He didn't say that.  Come on, what did he really say?"

"Well....  He said he wished he could fuck a piece like that every night like I do."

"But his wife is very attractive. And you don't do me every night anyway. And I'm not a 'piece,' thank you very much."

"Well, you know how guys are -- and I would like to fuck you every night and twice on Sunday."

"Before and after church?"

"That sounds good.  Thanking the Lord for blessings bestowed."

"Uh huh. Besides, you're usually asleep and snoring when I get to bed. I could blow a whistle in your ear and you wouldn't wake up. And how guys are, huh? So do you want to fuck his wife?"

"Well, no, Wanda.  She's not my type."

"But if she were your type?"

He sighed, shook his head.  "Wanda...."

"A non-answer...that means yes."

"No, it does not! You drive me crazy sometimes, you know that."

"But in a good way, right?"

"Not always.  Look, why do you think I like to take photos of you and hang them where I can always look at them.  I like you.  I like seeing you. I like hearing you.  Even when you are in another room talking to someone else, on the phone or whatever, I like hearing your voice. I like the sound of it. You don't know how much. It makes me feel...relaxed. And you know what else?  I like guys looking at you, at the photos I take of you, and saying things like that they would like to fuck you."

"What if I did? Fuck them, I mean."

"Oh, come on.  I know you. Ms Germophobe of 2025."

"True.  Just the thought of some strange man's sweat on me gives me the shudders, let alone.... But I wouldn't anyway.  What would be the point? You're the only man I want.  You know that."

"You're insecure, Wanda. But you don't have to be.  Not with me."

"What brought that on? And I am not." 

"What you said about me and his wife.  It's not true and it was offensive to me. You can't really think I'm such a man who would --"

"No, I don't really think you are.  I just said that.  I don't know why. Teasing you, maybe.  I didn't mean to be insulting. I never want to insult you.  I have no reason to. I'm sorry."

"Well, you were and for that you deserve a good spanking.  Get over here!"

"Catch me if you can, you big lummox!"

"Why, you little.... You're going to get it now!"   

Why tell this dumb story? Well, because while lesbian bed death is mentioned as a thing, nobody seems to mention, let alone take seriously, heterosexual bed death, which is a very real thing in marriage.  I think it wrecks a lot of them and needs to be taken seriously, not so much by men, those hound dogs, lol, but by their wives.  Hey girls, don't you get that your husband desires you? Wants you to be a hot number, an HB10 that other guys envy him for having married.  I honestly think it hurts a man when his woman doesn't hide the fact that she'd really rather not have sex with him, considers doing her wifely duty a chore to get over with as quickly as possible.  And I think that's one reason a lot of women let themselves go, so they'll be unattractive, undesirable, so they won't be pestered for sex by their husbands.

Now, there might be a lot of reasons for this that are not the woman's fault. Hubby could be a slob -- clean yourselves up, guys!  He could have let himself go -- beer guts are not attractive. He could also be a jerk. Even if he doesn't physically abuse her, he could verbally abuse her, ignore her, just not be a decent person. 

So when he decides he wants to do the horizontal hula, she decides she doesn't. Why would she? 

She gets a new dress, fixes her hair, tries to look nice for him -- and he doesn't notice.  Or, when she asks him what he thinks, he just grunts or says, "Yeah, it's nice," while not even really paying attention. She spends hours preparing and fixing a special dinner and he says nothing, just eats it and goes to watch some stupid sports crap on TV. Or, if she adds candles and uses the best china, he says, "What's all this for?" And if she says, "Oh, I thought it would be nice to have a romantic dinner for a change," and he just shrugs, looks at the meal and says "What is this stuff anyway? You know I like meatloaf not...whatever this is," how do you expect her to feel about him?  How can you expect to have a good sex life if regular life is like that?

And I'm not even getting in to physical causes for a woman's lack of interest in sex, number one being painful intercourse, then there is FSAD -- look it up! I could go on.  Believe me. 

Look, if you want to have a good sex life in your marriage, the rest of the marriage has to be good, too. And that means both of you being considerate to your spouse and not being a self-centered jerk. 

Well, I've said enough.