‼️Caution: this post contains strong language and themes of sex and sexuality. If you’re offended by such things please just go away.‼️
In my Holiday Recovery post I didn’t bother to mention what ELSE occurred last weekend, because now it just feels too damn depressing to talk about.
At the conclusion of our trip I was left alone with the host of our landing site for about an hour while the more sober kayakers were retrieving the cars from the launch site.
We were both kinda hammered and she confessed she knew about my asexual wife from our mutual friend and commiserated with me.
She offered possible explanations and potential fixes, all of which i’ve long since exhausted.
I assured her “it is what it is”. My wife is an asexual. There is no fix. It’s just how she was born.
Then she turned the conversation to her own sexuality, and how she feels like she’a peaking right now in her forties because she masturbates so frequently, and how her vibrator is her “best friend”. Also, she totally finds “50 Shades Of Gray” a turn on.
Now, my mind, of course, went THERE immediately, but my body didn’t really follow along. I had means, motive and opportunity to make a move on her or at least escalate the conversation even further to be sure she’d reciprocate – but I didn’t.
I just took it as “girl talk”; she’s comfortable talking about anything to me. That’s good, right? Or maybe she has lousy boundaries. Or maybe it’s because she’s a bit drunk. But I didn’t take it as an invitation to ravage her at the time – which it might very well have been. I can be quite dense about such things.
I’m not sure why I didn’t react physically; she’s quite attractive, single, and i’m fucking starved for sex. I mean, sure, we’re all taught not to take advantage of drunken women. These days that can lead to serious fucking trouble. Not to mention i’m married. Still, I wonder why I didn’t react more predictably.
In any case, nothing happened. Our party arrived with the vehicles, we loaded the kayaks, exchanged pleasantries, and left.
To be honest. I felt some regret; like i’d missed an opportunity to get what I think I wanted and I didn’t feel any guilt for wanting it. But did I really want it? I do, right? What the hell is happening to me?
I reached out to our host the next day on social media to thank her for bringing lunch for everybody and giving us a place to land. And honestly, I wanted to see if there were any smoldering embers that might clue me in as to her intent in regards to me.
There weren’t. Embers, that is. Or clues.
The private message was polite and succinct. She’s moving to Florida in a couple weeks, btw. Yay.
So….if there were any actual opportunity for sex, it’s certainly lost now. Or maybe I was right to just take it as “just girl talk” and anything else was purely my imagination run wild…again. I do that sometimes.
Whatever the case, I feel deflated. Confused. Depressed. Had it actually happened I might feel exactly the same way. So i’ve got that going for me, I guess.