You know how when you’re hungry at first, you’re desperate to eat and you only feel your stomach hurt? Everything sounds delicious to you and the dumbest thing to do at that moment is go grocery shopping? But then as time passes your body adjusts and you enter into a fasted state. The hunger is there but it’s not desperation. Your thoughts are clear and focused. That’s what today feels like in Locktober day 16.
I’ve come to a realization of what it is about this extended denial that has induced a love for service to my wife. It’s not really a sexual gratification as it is a deeply intimate one. The strongest memory I have of this feeling is back in 2018. My then live in girlfriend had just finished graduate school, and she struggled to find a job. Application after application, and Interview after interview only to receive an email that they were “going in another direction.” I ached to fix it for her but was helpless to do anything but continuously encourage her to not give up. And then one day, it just happened. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t her dream job, and she has since moved on from it, but it was her first job in her field of study.
The look of relief and joy on her face is seared into my skull. I have never felt so happy for someone without having some joy for how it helps me. Sure, being proud of her and relieved about the additional income came later. But in that moment, I was just consumed with euphoria to see her relieved, and happy, and proud of herself. I ordered an engagement ring that night. Didn’t even consider whether she would for sure say yes. I just knew that the most genuine sense of joy I’ve ever experienced was simply through seeing her face.
It wasn’t just that the happiness I felt was as good as any joy I’ve had for a personal achievement. It was that it felt even better. Whenever something good happens to me, I’m happy but the baggage of imposter syndrome, and doubt about what’s next always come with it. Not with this kind of happiness. No, this was joy in its purist form that I experienced for the first time in my life.
And then time passes as the ups and downs of life get in the way. As I experience my own successes and failures; As I develop my own self doubt, and mental health struggles; I tend to be more distracted by the things that effect me and my sense of self worth. Often at night, when I can’t sleep because I don’t like the person I am, I end up reaching out for some relief, through masturbation. Often for no other reason than to help me sleep. Over time, having an orgasm becomes less about experiencing pleasure and more about dulling emotional pain and anxiety. Similar to substance use overtime. That negative association seeped into when we had sex. I often wouldn’t enjoy the foreplay, because my focus is on the relief from the feeling of self-loathing digging into my ribs.
But now… now, I don’t get an orgasm to dull anything. Sex is about pleasure again. Even when I touch myself, I know I won’t get to have that relief, so I’m only able to enjoy the build up. And since I’m only able to enjoy the build up, my attention focuses solely on that. Which, makes sexual play with my wife, an experience that I’m not just trying to get through. It’s something I’m trying to savor. I’m paying attention to every move she makes, every sound she utters, and I become acutely aware of how it affects me.
That Hyperawareness extends beyond when we engage in foreplay or watching her please herself. I’m now hyper-aware and even discovering the little things she does through the day that arouse me, intentionally or not. And that’s not to say they didn’t arouse me before, but it was more subconscious, more subtle. Right now, when she does something that arouses me, I either feel my member press against the cage at even the slightest hint of an erection, or I feel pre-cum suddenly flowing.
You might say it’s an exercise in mindfulness. I’m now mindful of every thing she does that I find arousing. Obviously I don’t always make it known. Nor is it so distracting that forces me stop all that I’m doing… well, it doesn’t always mean that…. It’s just enough to give me pause and remind me that I’m romantically in love with this remarkable creature. Not just as deep friendship, or as a coparent. But a deep erotic love for her and everything about her.
On top of all of that, the commitment to staying locked for the whole month, has me filled with anticipation. When I do think about cumming, I’m only able to think about cumming with her. It’s become something I fantasize about. And I love the simplicity in that. Fantasizing about fucking my wife. Thinking about all I will do to build up. Thinking about all I will do to ensure she is in the mood and as excited as I am. And think about all I will do to ensure she is even more satisfied than I know I will be. And more importantly, because I know that things are still up in the air with postpartum recovery for her, I fantasize about how we will adapt to ensure it’s still a wonderful experience. Because this experience has put my own satisfaction aside, I’m reminded of how much satisfaction I get just from seeing her happy. And that’s why doing acts of service for her is not just sexual, it’s out of a desire to simply see her enjoying her life with me.
So, yes, this is a game. But the game is really just a structure of rules as a vehicle to bring these feelings that I’m normally too distracted to notice to the forefront. The game is just a game, but the feelings I have for her are real, deep, and powerful. Similar to when you read a fantasy novel. You know that the story isn’t real, but the feelings you have as you read very much are.
There are other aspects I’m enjoying as well, but this is the part that makes it more than just kink. This is the part that makes it something I want to continue long term. My biggest fear after this is over, is going back to being more concerned about myself than her. More concerned with whether I’m good enough, rather than right now, I’m just concerned with doing all I can to make sure she knows that she is enough.
I don’t want to go back. Why would I want to think about me, when I can spend all day thinking about her? If you saw her, you’d agree. Eyes so blue like the sea that I feel wet when I look into them. Oh… that’s because I do get wet when I see them.
Anyway… bye.