When Sex With a Spouse Becomes a Duty
How could I have married this fat fob of a flesh, I wondered. I shuddered as the forthcoming sexual ordeal presents itself in my mind’s eyes. God! The stench of alcohol as he grunts and grinds away his life. I hate it! But it is my duty, I tell myself. With that thought, I fling off my wrapper and lay nude on the bed. Waiting like a lamb about to be taken to the slaughterhouse. I told myself repeatedly that it was my duty to accept the nasty parody he calls sex and stay with him because of the children.
Richard looks at me as i set the table. He knows the food would be a cold one. He remembers how trimmed and pretty i had been when he first met and fell in love with me. He remembers the well-manicured and polished nails. The breath-taking hairdos and clothes, with shoes to match. My attractive appearance never ceases to set his blood pumping back then! It took just two babies to destroy the beauty called Rose.
He grimaces with distaste as i walked into the master’s bedroom. Sweet Jesus! He can’t remember the last time i saw it fitting to put on a bra while at home. Always that horrible wrapper, tied sarong fashion, dragging my breast down my chest. Oh, how he has come to detest it so much! If i have been tying the wrapper, looking neat and sexy, instead of like a tired elephant, he would dearly love to have taken few rounds from the back. Wow! But he remembers those days he and i were crazy about Doggie styles! He remembers counting on me to come up with varying wacko styles. Lord, but he had enjoyed every minutes of those crazy days in bed!
Today, whenever he looks at me, he knows why his account was always hitting red. I was eating him broke! Let him service me, no matter how bad it leaves the taste in his month. Let me not say, he was not doing his duty. It’s bad that it takes alcohol and the closing of his eyes as he conjures the scintillating body of the beer pub maid, Maria, to get his sleeping one-eyed snake, to blink and stretch enough to bite Me. But then, duty is duty! I know he will come to the bed as soon as he finishes with his bath. I sigh like a martyr and open my leg in readiness for his unceremonious entry. I know he will grind away on me, while the stench of the alcohol tries to suffocate me. Within minutes, it will be over. He will belch, roll over and starts snoring. I too will turn.
A tear or two will slither down my cheeks. I will ask myself why things fell apart. I will forget that since the children arrived, I have made them my world, forgetting my hubby was my first child! I will not remember why he had loved me like mad, but I will however blame him for the deterioration of the marriage, especially the bed!
Hi guys, just presenting a picture of what it is like to be making love because you feel it’s your duty. Sex is unbridled fun! When situation degenerates and you start viewing it the way I am doing, then it is no longer fun. Sex as duty is terrible! This kind may not apply in the situation where the couple is still dating. We all know that during dating, couples present their best front, knowing either one could say, ” kiss my fat black arse!” and walk out the door. Invariably saying goodbye to the relationship. But with marriage, it’s another kettle of tea.
I just received a letter from a friend, telling me not to write on issues that have to do with marriage. But you guys forget that I am married and that i have married friends and sisters. Moreover, I write on what I believe in and don’t think I need to have experienced what it feels like standing in front of a pastor, parroting ” I do,” to know the opinion I wish to express. No one needs to tell me that marriage is the most difficult institution, I know. I also know that it takes two people-husband and wife-to make a marriage work.
What I was trying to say in the story above is that love making between spouses should not be seen as a duty. When you view love making with your spouse as a duty, you begin to lose the essence of the whole idea in marriage and life. Lovemaking ought to be fun not a drag! And believe me, definitely not a duty. Now you can only call it a nice duty if you want that your man to get his lazy arse off the bed and give you a good banging! You know, just like brother Jeroboam said, ” there are eggs! And there are eggs!” so also there are duties! And there are duties! Now what sort of duty am I talking about here? Duty that means having sex with your spouse, not because you desire her or because you want to be thrilled or enjoy it but because you want to fulfill the oath you took in the front of the pot-bellied pastor with a heavy lens spectacles perched on his twitching nose.
In that sort of duty, you don’t look forward to it, neither would you want to waste time on it before minding your side of the bed. What a bore! With time, you know you want something more from the bedmantics you’re getting at home. You start for what could be the inevitable search outside for that unique something your spouse could no longer give you. You invariably begin the journey to the breaking down of your marriage. Yeah, extra-marital affairs break homes!
Duty is one hell of drudgery! Something you dread, unlike pleasurable duties, which you look forward to. With drudgery, it gets to that stage where the man’s candy bar and the woman’s honey pot, will become indifferent as they duel. Both hissing, sighing and yawning. Both saying get over with, dick head! You think our private organs don’t talk? They do! If your spouse can stay without making love advances at you for say, two or three weeks, better get worried. Don’t say, ” it doesn’t worry me if he doesn’t ask for it. After all, he’s allowing me the much needed rest!” Oh sister, you are a fool! Look at me, I don’t fancy sex that much myself but I wouldn’t find it funny if my man no longer desires me like mad. What did you say? You don’t believe that I don’t like sex that much? Why! Go ahead, tell me your reasons for doubting meâÂ?¦? I’m listeningâÂ?¦have you suddenly gone dumb and deaf? Just as I thought, you don’t have an answer. Coward! Your problem is caused by listening to too many gossips! Anyway, you may ask John, when you see him, he knowsâÂ?¦
If my man doesn’t touch me for two weeks and he’s not sick, he definitely would have some explaining to do. That is, if I don’t rape him. Nay, not that sort of rape like pouncing on him, though I’m sure he’d liked that. But rape by seducing him in every way possible. First by putting on a sinful dress. Then tell him you want to give him a massage. Then do the massage with the intent to kill that tiredness in him and get those two lazy referees and one lineman working on your hungry pitch! The choice is yours. You can always learn new tricks to seduce your guy. Don’t allow things to degenerate to the level of what i now make do with. Life is too much fun to settle for less. Remember that when the kids leave home, you’d still have each other. Make the most of your marriage. Remember that without a good sex, your marriage is halfway dead. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Sex as a duty is one sure way to kill your marriage. Always keep in mind that special thing that attracted you to each other. Remember special moments and days.
If you feel either of you is having problems that is affecting the marriage to the extent of invading the sacredness of the bedroom and a good love making, please be sure to discuss about it. No big deal in discussing sex with your spouse, after all you’ve been doing it every time. If fun fizzles out of the marriage bed, boredom and frustration sets in. The lady starts faking orgasm, while the guy pretentiously groan in fabricated enjoyment when he actually wants to puke. Sex as a duty, rather than fun, surely requires a national confab, I tell you. Or don’t you think so?
