AKA the cunning linguist; AKA el lingüista astuto; AKA Thomas the Tongue Engine; AKA le linguiste adroit; AKA il linguista abile; AKA the cunning linguist; AKA el lingüista astuto; AKA Thomas the Tongue Engine; AKA le linguiste adroit; AKA il linguista abile;

Tuesday, 26 July 2011

Was the last time "The Last" time?

I guess it was 6-7 years ago that this new stage of my life germinated.
The Mother In Law had moved out, our daughter had finished college, was working and living with her boy-friend, and the mortgage was paid off, so we had the house to ourselves at long last.  Now our conjugal relations had never been good, well actually quite pitiful, but my wife's medical condition was more under control and less of an excuse, so I thought it was finally time to see if I could strike a spark again.
Well after almost weekly attempts at intimacy, romancing (?), cajoling, badgering, begging, my average "strike" rate had lifted from biennially to 6 monthly, but the quality and enthusiasm was less than zero.  I guess you know its over when you have to throw out a box of condoms that have passed their "use-by" date!  In fact I was beginning to feel that if I pushed any harder it would be bordering on "rape-in-marriage".  It was time to "have it out"!
I was finally able to bring the topic up in a non-hostile environment and was told that not only did she not have any desire (anymore?), but in fact had always (?) actually "disliked" the act.  There was no point in arguing about it.  I just had to accept it and acknowledge her feelings and advised that I would never "bother" her again.
I guess that was when it suddenly hit me, that the last time might actually have been "The Last" time!  Here I was in my mid 50's after 35 years of eventful, unfulfilling marriage - I guess I had been too busy being "The Carer" and had not looked after my own happiness.
What followed was a period of growing depression - its not something you actually recognize at the time - it just sort of creeps up on you.  In hind-sight, it was worst on my daily commute to and from work as I transitioned between my two totally different "lives".  It was a friendship with a particular lady at work that helped me recognise my condition and inspired me to do something about it.  She was a single mother about 10 years younger then me, coping with a teenage son, that had project-managed the construction of her new home and she had a real go-get-'em, take-no-prisoners attitude to life.
And so I came to realize that I had to take responsibility for my own happiness, physically and emotionally.  Now I am not in the position nor of the disposition to divorce and walk away from my role as "carer", besides I wouldn't know where or how to "date" at my age.  The simplest solution seemed to be to seek "professional" help (and I don't me psychological counselling).
I confess that I had been to see a "Lady of Pleasure" 20-30 years ago on a business trip away, but I was young and nervous and it didn't last a minute.  All in all I found that experience quite cold and unfulfilling.
So I must say it was with a degree of trepidation that I dipped my toe into the "seamy world" of cash-for-pleasure.  Fortunately, the first lady I selected was very pleasant and helpful, putting me at complete ease whilst she pleasured me.
And so started a journey of discovery, of complete over-turning of preconcieved prejudices, of discovery of new areas of pleasure (at least for me) and of getting to know some wonderful people.  I am now a "sexygenarian" (with a little assistance) and loving it!
And thus is the story of this blog...

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