30 Dirty Questions,  EROBLOPOMO

If I could go back and do it again…

Oh, I would.

Those early days with my husband were so primal and I was so utterly smitten from the start. I spent the majority of my time, heart racing, body tingling, in a fog of blissful, sexually-tinged euphoria.

So when our sex therapist (yes, we have one of those now) told us that one thing we needed to change was our perception of each other as man and wife, and rather, go back to seeing ourselves as boyfriend and girlfriend, it sort of made sense. Those were, after all, the carefree days of “new” and “exciting”. They days when we were trying to impress one another, working to keep one another, in ways that we have stopped (because of comfort and feelings of safety, wich are good…but not when they also lead to feelings of boredom and complacency).

So I thought about it. What if I could recreate those early days? It’s been long enough…15 years…that all of it would be exciting again. And…because we have the shared knowledge of how things went down, he would recognize the efforts and I think would enjoy playing along.

Here’s what I would do:

Find him on social media, and start up a chat.

Honestly, I can’t remember who started the conversation all those years ago. I was trying out all sorts of dating sites, having little luck. I finally fell back on our local paper’s online personals. There weren’t many people to choose from, and only a few were even near my age. My husband was the only one who showed promise. But, for the life of me, I cannot remember who made first contact.

Engage in distance communication.

I do remember that we started emailing each other, which led to several phone calls lasting hours, as we got to know each other. I still have some of those emails, some of the questions we asked each other. So I’d re-ask those. Maybe sending emails to each other, phone calls during the day. In those first few days, I could hardly wait to check my email when I got home, and later, when phone calls took their place, I could wait to hear the phone ring and hear his voice.

Set up a date where we had our first face-to-face meeting.

We met at our local casino for the first time. It was a bit of a drive for me, and I went alone, which made my friends nervous.

When I walked into the bar and scanned the crowd to find him, I was nervous and shaky. Our eyes locked, and my knees threatened to buckle. He stood, walked away from his table of friends, and moved toward me. I don’t remember the particulars of that moment, whether we hugged or what we said. I do remember being captivated. The lust was immediate and the chemistry strong. One of those moments when you just “know”. We talked (well, mostly I prattled on nervously, while he listened and observed, the picture of calm, dominant, masculinity – relaxed and confident). We didn’t leave until late, something like 2am. He walked me to the front of the casino, and as we leaned in, he wrapped my in a hug. There would be, intentionally for him, no kiss. Somehow he knew what kind of tension that would build in me.

I think we made plans to see each other again. It’s hard to remember, but I do know, that as I walked to my car, my feet were inches from the ground. I was school-girl giddy, and my blood was racing.

Set up a second date for the next night.

The next evening, he came over. I was already drinking my courage. And not that I needed the help, but red wine also has a tendency to make me a bit horny, anyway. He didn’t drink at the time, so I was getting tipsy on my own.

I’m sure we talked some. And I offered a movie. Purposefully, I chose Henry & June, because I’m a little obsessed with Nin and Miller (I collect their rare books). Plus, it is one of those films that never fails to get my juices flowing. I wanted him to see what turned me on, and so the film was my “reserved” way of doing that. We may have watched Delta of Venus, too. But, I can’t remember now. What I do remember is that when the films were over, we kissed for the first time. And I fucking melted. It was all passion and removing clothes and throwing them every which way to the bedroom.

I can’t even remember the sex itself. All I know is that I was hooked. Everything from his eyes to his body to his mind filled me and made me hungry for more.

And, what’s more–he was a thoughtful, practiced lover.

Do things to impress him and “hook” him.

I took dozens of erotic photos for him. Something I had never done before. I shaved my public hair for the first time. We bought anal toys (I’d only had anal sex once before…and it was frightfully terrible) and I purchased lingerie. All with him and his pleasure in mind.

Date…and have a lot of sex…all over the house…in the car…on the porch…

This is surely where we went wrong. Not only have we stopped doing things to impress and keep one another, we have stopped really dating each other.

And that is where I come back to the idea of treating him more like my boyfriend than my husband. Because in a way, it’s easier to take a husband for granted. That ultimate commitment has been made. He’s promised his life to me. But we all know how tenuous that can really be…and that marriages take work. When he was my boyfriend, that work still seemed fun. Before bills, and a child, and in-laws. And sometimes,  still, it IS fun. But the idea here is to keep it that way MOST of the time.

So that’s my current charge. To go back to the beginning. To go back to all the reasons I fell in lust and love. To do it all again, but with the confidence of a wife.

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