I'm sorry that I posted advance notice about this entry. I get this feeling that some of you have some expectation of an entertaining post now. But if you do? What the hell are you thinking? I'm arkie! I don't make entertaining or insightful posts! Get real!MTW’s post about scheduling scrumping inspired this, sort of. It also is influenced by the “how we met” stories. I had commented on MTW's post that my ex and I went from once or twice a day to eventually once every two months. It would hit me that we hadn’t had sex in so long, and then half-way through, I would remember why I didn’t care.
When K and I met, I was not a virgin. I had my wild spell in high school and college, but had not dated or anything for around a year before meeting K. I don’t know if you could call it dating – but we did whatever it was for a couple of months. I was working at the local nursing home when we met. One of my co-workers – her husband had a band, and they had come out to play for the residents. K was staying with one of the guys and his wife, and was helping haul everything in, and set it up. I thought he was cute, so I asked my friend to set us up. This was in November. I assumed K was the same age as me (22). B’s band was playing at a club New Year’s Eve, and the plan was for K & I to meet there for our date. But there was a change in plans, because the owner said he couldn’t let K in on NYE because he wasn’t 21. But he would go ahead and let him in the next night. I now make the assumption that K is 20. OK, 2 years younger than me. I can handle that. The next night, he’s there, we talk some (not much – the band was really loud). We ride back to DA with B, and K & I kiss some.
I would go over to the trailer that he was staying at, and we would kiss some, but we couldn’t go any further because at that time, he didn’t have a bedroom (the other bedroom in the trailer didn’t have any furniture), and there was nowhere for us to go, because I was still living with my parents. The couple he was staying with finally put a bed in the other room – I guess they were tired of our make-out sessions on the couch. I think it was in February that we had sex for the first time. He proposed right afterwards, while we were laying there cuddling. Perhaps two or three weeks later, he moved back to LR, but was planning on moving back to DA. I drove up to see him a few times, and had met his mother and step-father. It was during this first meeting, when his mother mentioned his birthday coming up, that I finally found out how old he really was. He would be turning 18 that year. I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me right then. I was sleeping with a 17 year old! Gah! My mind was racing. If I had found this out before we slept together, it would have never progressed any further after that. But, because of various twisted issues I have regarding sex and morality, I felt like it was too late to go back now.
After K moved back to DA, we would see each other every night. And we were scrumping every night. Sometimes I would go see him on my lunch break, and we would have a quickie. After a few months, he asks me to marry him again. I say yes (what was I thinking???), and we set a date, September something or other. *shrugs* It was the first weekend, and I think we got married on Saturday. But it could have been Friday. A couple of nights before the wedding, he says he doesn’t want us to sleep together from then until the wedding, so the wedding night will be special. I thought that was kind of sweet, and agreed. After the wedding, which was at my parents house, and had no guests other than my parents, his mother and step-father, his grandmother, my brother and sister, his brother and sister, his aunt and uncle, and the couple that fixed us up, and maybe one of his friends, instead of leaving so we could have our “honeymoon”, K wanted to stay and ride the 4-wheeler and hang out. I finally get him to agree to leave, but by then, it was too late for us to drive to Heber Springs, which is where we had planned to stay. We end up staying in a nasty, sleazy motel in the town 30 miles away from DA. K had stopped at a gas station and got a corn dog or a chili dog, and ended up being sick all night. I had to keep running out to the gas station to try to find something that would make him feel better. Some men can be such babies when they’re sick. He was too sick for scrumping. I woke up once during the night to discover he was watching porn on the TV.
After we were married, our sex life slowed down considerably. We would be intimate maybe 2-3 times a week, which turned into once a week, which turned into once every two weeks.
K had major hang ups about sex that did not surface until after we were married. I am (was?) a moaner and screamer, and would also talk real dirty while scrumping. After we were married, K informed me that the dirty talk was such a turn off to him. He also shared the tidbit that I needed to be quiet during sex, because someone might hear us. I was also instructed to keep my legs flat on the bed, because someone might see my leg through the curtain if I raised my leg, and figure out we were having sex. If we ever went doggy style, we had to be VERY careful of our position on the bed, in relation to the windows. Needless to say, the lights were ALWAYS out.
One night, we were sitting on the couch, fooling around, and it was going to lead to scrumping. K wanted to go back to the bedroom, but I wanted to stay in the living room, and do it on the floor. Well, first he had to pin the curtains closed, because someone might somehow see through that 1/16th of an inch slit between them. Then he had to close off the spare bedroom door, because someone might see in that window, into the living room where we were. Next was putting something over the window on the front door (which had a sheer curtain and frosted glass), and making sure it was completely covered. By the time he got all this done, I was no longer in the mood. Oh yeah, I almost forgot this, because it really makes all of this make sense – we lived in a trailer that was on an alley. It was very rare for anyone to ever drive down it. And because it was propped up, and the windows were high, there was no way anyone could have seen in the bedroom window, around the doorway, onto the floor in the living room.
In addition to turning him off by talking dirty, there were a couple of other things that were total mood killers for him. One was if I were to ask for any assistance in “getting there” after he was finished. And he was always finished before me. I had started faking it for a while, to save his ego, but eventually I got tired of that. The other thing I did that he didn’t care for was acting interested in sex as soon as he came home from work.
It got to the point that if we did have sex, it would have to be in the bathroom (because he would always wait until the morning, after I had my shower). We had to be in the bathroom, because after all, during the day, someone might see through the curtains in the bedroom.
A little background info – the trailer had one of those crank-out windows in the bathroom, that was probably 6-8 inches wide, and 3 inches tall. The bottom of the tub was probably 3 inches higher than the floor. Standing in the tub, the window was level with my shoulder.
This window had to be closed, and the door shut, when we had sex, because someone might drive down the alley, and see through the window on the front door, down the hall, and into the bathroom. Or somehow see through that window. Plus, as I had mentioned, this would be after I had my shower, so it was hot and humid in there. The last time we were together, only two things were going through my mind - wishing he would hurry up and finish and wondering how offended he would be if I were to start brushing my teeth while he was still at it.
Until being with my ex, I never believed there was such a thing as “bad” sex. Actually, it was worse than bad, it was BORING. When I left him, my thoughts regarding sex was basically I would rather not ever have sex again than to be with someone who had no regard whatsoever for my feelings or satisfaction.
I'm sorry I made you think there would be something of interest here. *smooch*Oh, just remembered something else! I did not hear this myself, it was reported to me by his second ex-wife. After all that, and after his 2nd marriage ended, one night the nighttime DJ of one of the most popular radio stations in Arkansas had posed the question of why do women turn into ice queens after you marry them? K had the nerve to call in and say that it had happened to him twice. That the sex was hot, blah, blah, blah, before marriage, but as soon as we were married, both of his ex-wives turned into major Ice Queens.
