Well things have taken a desperate turn around here. On Sunday I got back from church only to find my husband sprawled out on the sofa in agony with a frozen bag of peas in the small of his back saying he had tried to reach for something on a ladder and twisted his back. I think the reaching from the ladder was just the nail in the coffin as he had 1. given me a lengthy seeing to in various ridiculous positions the day before 2. we had carried quite a bit of heavy furniture out of an apartment that morning - him doing the lion's share.
The long and short of it is that husband is still in pain and is effectively on sex strike. He said no position will work not even me on top. I suggested dressing in a short nurses costume and doing a kind of perverted Florence Nightingale on him but he said, "I know you will just end up getting me in some weird position and I will end up in the ER."
So that's it. He is on sex strike. Which leaves me with masturbation. Except that masturbation is a bit like eating celery. You know how celery takes more calories to chew than is actually in the celery? And you're meant to get all excited about that except that eating celery is actually one of the least pleasurable masticating activities around. Same with masturbation. It's boring isn't it? You can't exactly surprise yourself with a new move. And as for sex toys, yes I will accept a dildo but anything that vibrates just gets on my nerves, reminding me somehow of a dentist's drill.
So please keep me in my prayers. I will not be drilled in the near future. My husband now wears those adhesive hot packs on his back and is back at work.
These are desperate times and require desperate measures. What am I going to do to relieve my sexual frustrations?
Who am I? Displaced Londoner now living in the States with my two little girlies and long suffering husband. Co-author of hilarious parenting book Cocktails at Naptime www.cocktailsatnaptime.com
My mom's an Austrian, my dad's a Brit, which makes me a Britaustrian, or possibly an Austrish?