“My mistress deceives me – So what? I´d rather be lied to than ignored” (Ovid)
He says his wife is still fit and beautiful at her late forties, but that she´s lost interest in sex, therefore he roams the internet on porn sites, seeks dates, cause he is a man and has needs, and despite the quiet and satisfying life they live, from a social standpoint, of course, he feels extremely frustrated as a man.
How many times have I heard the same story? It is so cliché. I think that many men actually believe what they are saying. She might still have sex with him, and still he believes that it does not count. It does not feel like sex.
I am tired of asking whether their wives lost interest in sex, period, or they have lost interest in sex with them. I gave up asking them if they ever considered that their women might have needs that they are not fulfilling, emotional and/or physical.
Men and women are brought together by sex, and separated by it too.
I have told men to seek counsel for their marriage, and then I understood that it was either too late, cause their sexual bond to their wives are already broken, and monogamy is not something they will suffer as meekly as before, or that the very need for counseling kills a part of them, of their passion and masculinity.
No matter how modern and progressive a man is, the beast dangling between their legs has a mind of its own, and the tension between men and women seems to be defeating them both.
Good father and hardworking provider, his eyes are anxious until they have the glassy, fixed look of a dog watching a piece of meat. And he touches himself, probably the same movements he has used since he was a boy and noticed his private parts tingled and gorged and eventually caused an amazing sensation. His erection rises and he praises the woman he is watching and remotely interacting, oblivious to the fact that it is a fantasy and that it is his fantasy, therefore it is his erection and his only, as lonely as any masturbation.
His strokes grow frantic while with the left hand he caresses his own balls and presses his perineum, causing his cock to jump and to kind of loose rigidity, as if a spasm had crosses his body. Not a smile, the silence of a man who has gotten used to fucking in a bedroom at home, making sure he is never so loud that his children might listen.
He eventually shoots his cum straight up, on his chest, also making a mess of the desk on his side. The only sound he lets out is a gasp, deep throated and low.
No wonder his wife has lost interest in sex. If only she pretended to care about him, threw him a bone every now and then, I think she would not even have to suffer his clumsy advances, for that is a man who makes justice to Ovid´s line: he does not stand being ignored. What man does?
The lies he tells to himself might have got him used to being lied to, and he´d be happy that way. And all we want in life is happiness, isn´t it?