Wife Masturbates Instead Of Sex
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Wife Masturbates Instead Of Sex
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As the COVID-19 pandemic continues to spread, stopping the virus remains our top collective priority—and that’s the way it should be. Still, depending on your personal quarantine living situation, it may also be impacting your relationship. I n this edition of Good@Sex , Alexandra Fine—sexologist, co-founder and CEO of Dame Products, and Well+Good Changemaker —delves deep into what it may mean if you prefer to masturbate over having sex with your live-in partner right now.
I live with my partner, and we're spending more time together than ever right now. Nothing is wrong, per se—in fact, we're getting along super well. Yet, I'm…not in the mood for sex. Well, partnered sex. You see, I am in the mood for alone time and self-pleasure. Is it normal that I prefer to masturbate over having sex with my partner right now?
First and foremost, let's get one thing out of the way: Yes, you are normal. Or at the very least, you are having a human response to a forced change in circumstances, which is triggering our animalistic instincts. Many of us are essentially captive in our homes and we have limited ability to move freely through the world, our natural habitat. Now consider that many animals struggle to procreate in captivity.
In short, being in quarantine isn’t our normal, and there is no normal response to it. However, I can point to some science and wisdom to explain why you might prefer to masturbate than have partnered sex, especially if you haven't felt this way before.
In fact, relationship therapist Esther Perel wrote a whole book about this, aptly titled Mating in Captivity: Reconciling the Erotic and Domestic , which is a deep dive into the paradox of love. Perel's thesis is essentially that closeness tends to kill desire. The more we truly “become one” with our partners, the less mystery there is to be curious about.
To paint a picture, apparently it was not easy at all to get rhinos to mate in captivity when they were paired up, one-on-one, in the zoo. In the wild, a male rhino would interact with a number of females as part of their erotic practice. When the male rhino no longer had environmental cues of exploring his options, so to speak, he wouldn’t get excited.
We need to be distinct individuals in order to want each other. Find time to work on your own joys, hobbies, and pleasures, and share those with your partner.
So what’s the solution, as it pertains to our human lives and human experiences? Space. We need to be distinct individuals in order to want each other. Of course, finding space from those with whom we’re quarantining can be difficult, so in the meantime, I recommend finding time to work on your own joys, hobbies, and pleasures, and sharing those with your partner.
Together, you can also reflect on the environmental cues in your pre-COVID life that would put you in the mood and attempt to re-create that environment/situation/smell/conscious state of mind in your home. Create a date night ritual, dance together, set up vacation-like scenarios .
Because, remember, sex itself doesn’t define the strength of your loving, caring, healthy relationship, and you only need to work on activating your erotic desire if you actually want to activate it. If exploring your erotic power in other ways feels best right now ( like through masturbating ), that’s cool, too.
Furthermore, as we navigate “the new normal” of life right now, it’s important to throw some of our preconceived notions of what normal means out the window. In fact, instead of questioning your normality, perhaps question whether you're feeling connected to yourself and your partner in ways that feel satisfying to you—regardless of whether that includes sexual intimacy.
And if you do decide that more partnered sex is something both you and your partner want and would like to work toward, here's a tip: Masturbate in the same room, and see what happens. It’s a real win-win.
As CEO of Dame Products , Alexandra Fine translates the nuances of our sexualities into human-friendly toys for sex and sexual wellness products. A lifelong student of sexual health, Alexandra earned her master’s in clinical psychology with a concentration in sex therapy from Columbia University. In founding Dame Products, she intends to start necessary conversations, to listen rather than assume, and to create products that enhance intimacy.
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Entertainment of Sunday, 22 January 2017
I love sex, but if I had to choose between touching myself and letting my husband do it for me, more often than not, I’m going solo. After nearly 20 years of marriage, I have no reservations about owning what I want and how I want it in the bedroom, and doing it my way when necessary. But owning this fact about myself was no easy feat.
My husband and I met when we were 16 and married two years later — so in the early days of our marriage, when we were both young and uninitiated in the ways of good sex, I masturbated in secret. It wasn’t that our missionary-romance was bad; it just wasn’t enough to get me there. I didn’t want to hurt my husband’s pride by telling him I never came during our sex sessions, and previous attempts to show him how to touch me left me with a bruised clitoris and him with a bruised ego, so I kept a lid on my sexual frustration. As soon as my husband would jump out of bed to clean himself in the bathroom, I would quickly and silently bring myself to orgasm.
A year into my covert masturbation operation, my husband surprised me by walking out of the bathroom too early, catching me pleasuring myself.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
On the brink of an orgasm, I tried to cover my tracks, but he knew. Through stilted breaths, I salvaged the moment by claiming I was simply still in the mood. He seemed puzzled, but accepted my explanation. That Christmas, he gave me my first dildo. I accepted his gift with elation and the understanding that sexual satisfaction was my own responsibility.
Although we never spoke of it, I was convinced my husband knew I was unfulfilled. When I reached for the sex toy as soon as he climaxed, he didn’t protest. Instead, he tenderly kissed my breasts and allowed me to finish myself off, establishing what would become our sexual norm.
But our sex lives were on a loop, the same moves getting replayed over and over — and in autumn of the fifth year of our marriage, my husband and I separated. By then, we’d had two children in quick succession, and spent the majority of our time either fighting or too exhausted to touch one another. Sensing our demise was near, I foolishly reached for religion in the hopes it would fix us. It was kismet, then, when two Mormon missionaries knocked on our door with a message of salvation and eternal family bliss.
I gave everything I had to my spiritual conversion. Determined to follow a path that promised a happily ever after for my marriage, I threw my beloved dildo in the garbage the day of my baptism. Casting orgasms and Satan aside, I waited for God to make my relationship feel like heaven on earth. Not surprisingly, that moment never arrived. A few months later, we filed for legal separation and I moved a state away with the kids for a fresh start.
In my new apartment, I flipped God the middle finger by masturbating my heart out once the kids were asleep. Those orgasms were some of the best I’d ever had. I formally ended my relationship with religion not long after, preferring the sweet release of sexual fulfillment, even if it meant eternal damnation.
In my newly single life, I reacquainted myself with dating and casual sex, which meant a lot of shaving (so much shaving) and an introduction to types of sex I didn’t know existed. The sexual education I received made the excessive cost of razor blade cartridges more like an investment.
During this time, I learned how much I love oral sex. My husband had never been interested in trying, and therefore I didn’t know what I had been missing. Once I got the weird “what if you smell or taste bad?” voice out of my head, I found the experience liberating. I no longer had to (or wanted to) masturbate immediately after sex because I was satiated. Suddenly I had a right to expect equal satisfaction to my partner, and it was incredible.
Over the course of our separation, neither my husband nor I took the necessary steps to finalize our divorce. We talked often — even about the relationships we were in, although never crossing the line into details about sexual liaisons. We became better friends and more open in our communication. In one of those funny Jane Austen twists, that longstanding friendship led to a rekindling of our love for one another and in the spring of what would have been our seventh year of marriage we reconnected and reclaimed our lives together.
Old habits die hard, though, and while our emotional and mental connection was stronger, our sexual chemistry reverted to its infancy. Like before, our post-coital connection involved boob play and me finishing myself off.
Afraid to rock the boat, or be rejected, I didn’t tell my husband to go down on me, even though that’s what I really wanted. I also didn’t want to hurt him or make him feel like his lovemaking skills were less than incredible, so I said nothing and masturbated vigorously for nearly a decade.
Were there times I tried to nudge him in the right direction? Sure. But the few times I tried without success cemented my belief that our paltry sex life was something I just had to accept.
Then my husband threw a wrench in our relationship and managed to completely renovate our sex lives in the process. In what could only be an admission born of guilt, my husband confessed to having an affair three months before we married. I wasn’t angry about the brief fling he had before we’d ever said our vows, rather by the fact that he’d lied by omission for so long. We argued, I cried, and in a calm moment, a thought occurred to me – he wasn’t the only one who had been keeping a secret in our marriage.
Emboldened by this realization, I decided to share my truth once the dust had settled. In a difficult conversation, I admitted how much I hated our sex life.
I expected my husband to get angry, to push me away and even feel betrayed. He did none of that. Instead, he took my hands, looked in my eyes and promised to change it.
Once our egos had cooled, we found our way back to the bedroom. Full of renewed hope, I used masturbation to show my husband exactly how I liked to be touched. He was eager to learn, and he was a quick study.
Sex with my husband transformed almost immediately. For awhile, we were like teenagers, going at it daily, later laughing in each other’s arms about how much catching up we had to do. Like most people in long-term relationships, however, that earnestness soon fizzled, placing us back in a comfortable, although much more satisfying schedule of sex a few times a month.
You would think this turn of events would mean I put down my two fingers and never had to masturbate again, but you would be wrong.
Sex takes a lot of work. From bathing and shaving and lotioning to making sure both partners are available and in the mood, there’s little room for true spontaneity. Plus, I’ve got to be relaxed enough to lie back and let myself be pleasured, which is not as easy as it sounds.
Sometimes, I just want the release of an orgasm but I don’t want to delay my gratification to see if my husband is down for a romp, or run in the bathroom and make sure I’m well groomed. In essence, sometimes I’m just too selfish and lazy to pick sex with him over sex with myself.
If I want to go through the elaborate ritual of getting my body ready for mind-blowing sex, I do — and I can now know that it will be great. Masturbation has finally become exactly what it was always meant to be: an indulgence, not a sad coping mechanism meant to replace the real thing. But still, more times than not, I’d rather delight in touching myself (thereby skipping the guaranteed razor burn the following day).
Sex with my husband transformed almost immediately. For awhile, we were like teenagers, going at it daily, later laughing in each other’s arms about how much catching up we had to do. Like most people in long-term relationships, however, that earnestness soon fizzled, placing us back in a comfortable, although much more satisfying schedule of sex a few times a month.
You would think this turn of events would mean I put down my two fingers and never had to masturbate again, but you would be wrong.
Sex takes a lot of work. From bathing and shaving and lotioning to making sure both partners are available and in the mood, there’s little room for true spontaneity. Plus, I’ve got to be relaxed enough to lie back and let myself be pleasured, which is not as easy as it sounds.
Sometimes, I just want the release of an orgasm but I don’t want to delay my gratification to see if my husband is down for a romp, or run in the bathroom and make sure I’m well groomed. In essence, sometimes I’m just too selfish and lazy to pick sex with him over sex with myself.
If I want to go through the elaborate ritual of getting my body ready for mind-blowing sex, I do — and I can now know that it will be great. Masturbation has finally become exactly what it was always meant to be: an indulgence, not a sad coping mechanism meant to replace the real thing. But still, more times than not, I’d rather delight in touching myself (thereby skipping the guaranteed razor burn the following day).
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Why Does My Wife Secretly Masturbate in a Sexless Marriage?
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Hi All,
This is my second post here. My first post may give a bit more insight as it's also about my love-life so I'll post it here...
http://www.christianforums.com/threads/marriage-in-trouble.7901746/#post-68446938
Ok, where do I start? Well, this all started just over a month ago. My wife was on her period at the time. I was woken up in the middle of the night with the bed 'vibrating'. I was very startled at first but after I had woken up a bit more, I could hear my wife breathing very heavily. Then it dawned on me that she may be masturbating. The thought turned me on immensely and my heart was pounding 10-to-the-dozen. I didn't do much about it apart from lay there listening.
The next night I was very curious and so after saying good night to my wife, I just lay there and after a while pretended to be asleep by making rhythmic breathing noises. To my surprise, after about 20 mins I started to feel the bed vibrate and could hear my wife breathing heavily again. Occasionally she would also let out a high-pitched sigh and 'squirm' into the mattress. I was convinced that I wan't hearing things. In the morning I discovered that her underwear was completely soaked.
This went on night after night, all through the night and so finally at the end of the week I decided to see what would happen if I made a move. I also noticed that each time I moved or did something that indicated that I wasn't asleep, she would pause and wait until I was 'asleep' again until the motion started again. She continued throughout the night with her 'motions' and so at about 4am in the morning I decided to see what would happen if I made my move. She was on her back with one leg open and the other straight so I very gently placed my hand on her leg and stroked it until my hand was close to her private area. She all of a sudden sat up and abruptly said "What are you doing! I'm trying to sleep!!". She then rolled over with her back to me.
I was really really hurt and just laid there trying to hold the tears back. I was facing the fact that not had we had sex for almost 9 months (she put it down to being tired all the time), but during all those times when she rejected me for making advancements, she was then satisfying herself while I fell asleep deflated and rejected. I felt that she was accepting masturbation as a substitute for me. I could hold the tears back no longer and got up and went downstairs. After 10 mins of crying my eyes out I got dressed, got into my car and drove down to a spot by the river near where we live to pray. I sat in the car for 3 hours crying my eyes out. When I returned home after, my wife was awake and despite my eyes being red with the tears, she didn't even ask what was up. I felt so unloved at that point.
I talked to my pastor the next day for advice as I was feeling devastated. He said that he would pray with me and told me that his wife sometimes masturbates in her sleep and that it could be that. He said that I should talk to my wife about it.
I had the talk with my wife that night and she acted a bit surprised. I said that I don't have a problem with it and that it actually turns me on. I even encouraged her, hoping that it would make her feel at ease and even suggested that we did it together if she didn't want to actually make love but needed a release. She didn't say anything to that. Finally, she said that she had prayed for God to wake her up in that area and perhaps He was doing a work in her. We prayed and left it there with God.
The next night I lay there awake while she was going through the 'motions' and I wanted to be sure that I wasn't imagining things. So I placed my iPhone under the covers with the torch mode on to see if I could see anything. As I did that she looked at me going under the covers and asked me what I was doing. I told her that I was frustrated and wanted to look at her body while I 'sorted myself out'. I then proceeded to come from under the covers. Again, she said she was trying to sleep but later on that morning we were cuddling up and she all of a sudden got onto of me and we made love.
The masturbating kept happening night after night and I was starting to loose sleep over
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