G-SPOT: Evolution of a Lover

This guest post is from a dedicated reader who shall remain anonymous.

It's not as dirty as some of us you may like but I think it tells a great story about how relationships evolve over time to be less like a sparkler and more like a punk. Not as flashy, but longer lasting and it keeps the bugs away. ;)

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Confessions of a Dangerous Reader: Have I Lost the Danger?

My husband and I, before he was my husband, had a lot of, um, dangerous sex. Before you jump to conclusions here, let me clarify. We didn't have physically dangerous sex; we used nearly every form of protection and method available to keep from getting pregnant or contracting any type of disease the other might have been carrying (which was highly unlikely in the first place since we'd each only regretfully been with one other person besides each other). We practiced safe sex, but we did it oh so dangerously.

I had the wild abandon of a relatively inexperienced, barely not a virgin, female in her young 20s. I had sworn never to have sex again until I was married after my first experience with my previous boyfriend left me crying and insisting that what we were doing was wrong. The act of sex had been virtually non-existent and/or non-pleasurable in my life up until the night new Boyfriend and I “accidentally” had intercourse.

It started with an innocent kiss which became heavier and more heated. We moved to my dorm room, onto my bed. Groping and gyrating gave way to the slow and gentle removal of our clothes. Surely we could just make out without clothing, right? And then it happened. The accidental slip. Our bodies froze in fear and anticipation, looking at one another with wide eyes that asked, “Where should we go from here?” My mind and body screamed in unison, “KEEP GOING!!!” because this time? This time was entirely different from the first time. This time felt so heavenly and so right. I whispered, “It's okay,” to him, and the rest is history.

As college seniors we were vivacious and insatiable. We couldn't get enough of one another, often rolling over for seconds and then thirds, and occasionally fourths just minutes after finishing. A slight suggestive gaze from across the table in the campus cafeteria led to hours in bed in the middle of the afternoon between classes. In March, Boyfriend went skiing with myself, my dad, and my brother. We stayed in a small condo in Colorado, sharing the pull out bed while my brother slept on a cot next to us. My dad took the bedroom. One night our hunger for one another drove us to stealthily satisfy our desires while my brother snored in a deep slumber just feet away from us. We were at the height of our dangerous love affair with each other.

Soon after, we graduated from college and embarked on what would be two years of a long distance relationship, somehow managing to meet each other's needs once a month over short weekends. Danger began to fade. The rigor of medical school and the strain of a first year of teaching set into our bodies and souls, but Danger was hanging on ever so slightly, a shadow in the corner of his bedroom waiting by his box of bones to study. It would show its face every now and then, prodding us to tear off clothing and ravage each other without inhibition in the dark after a romantic evening out, but alas, Danger was fast becoming dim.

Then came marriage, and moving, and the third year of medical school and teaching, and three pets starving for attention. And whilst Life was occurring, Danger left the building. Gone are the days of alluring glances and unquenchable thirsts. They have been replaced with weary kisses and scheduled sex. Where has the wild abandon gone? Where has my libido gone?

I didn't even realize any of it was leaving until it was all gone, yet I am encouraged. I am encouraged because, as my husband assures me, with age comes more refined tastes. Just as boxed Franzia wine or Keystone Light whets the palate of college students, so does an unpracticed touch gratify the sexual desires of the young and inexperienced. I am older, I am wiser, and I am harder to please. We must begin slowly now, taunting one another with gentle kisses and teasing fingers down below; tracing the edges of our most private parts with the lightest of touch and wetness of tongue. We experiment and use our creativity. Sex doesn't need to be scheduled, it just needs to be tempting. More tempting than the appeal of my pillow, a down comforter, and closed eyes after a long day. My sexual hunger has evolved from a starving child to a well-fed adult. Realizing this, my palate has been whetted once again with the sexual equivalent of a fine Italian wine and Danger has returned.

Comments

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I really enjoyed this! thanks for sharing. I think "tempting" is the perfect word.

Posted by: andygirl | November 11, 2010 at 02:27 PM

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.Yes.Yes.YES.YES!

Posted by: Kim | November 11, 2010 at 04:18 PM

I think were a lot of relationships (read: my previous relationships) fall apart is where the point at which the change from guzzling cheap cask wine to preferring an more refined vintage occurs and you're still expecting to guzzle similar quantities, and don't notice that the quality has increased significantly.

Cheers to you, anonymous, lets drink a decent bottle of Dom in your honour!

Posted by: Sally Megan | November 12, 2010 at 08:40 AM