As I was walking back to meet up with the family, I took a quick detour through the pharmaceutical and personal hygiene aisles. I like to check out the prices on my deodorant, and also check to see if there are any price deals on MACH 3 or Gilette Fusion razors. A secret part of me harbors a fantasy in the back of my mind, that I'll come back to our cart to find that Karen has put a 12 or 18 pack of razor blades into our shopping cart; and when I ask her who those are for, she will give me a sexy sly grin and say something like "going to need a good supply of razor blades if I'm going to be able to keep that head of yours soft and smooth."
I've been playing similar fantasies over and over in my head for over 4 1/2 years now, and nothing even remotely close to that has ever even entered her thoughts. But, yet, I still dream and fantasize. I guess that's all it will ever be. Just a hopeless fantasy.
Fuck! She hasn't even so much as touched me in years (I don't mean the act of letting me have sex with her, after I've begged for weeks or months on end. I mean, TOUCH ME. The act of using her own hand, of her own motivation, to reach out and take hold or make physical contact with my sexual organs - either mind or body.) Every intimate encounter we have is a direct result of my own initiation. Usually from begging, or guilting her into "giving it up." (A term that she uses, and that destroys my heart or sense of self worth every time she says it.)
So, what in my fucked up "50 Shades" of a sex starved mind would ever lead me to believe she would EVER take the initiative to instigate any sexual encounter, or fantasy, with me? I guess it all comes back to a misguided sliver of hope that refuses to let go . One last spark of light in the back of my mind, that is just too stupid to go out and grow cold.
Anyway. As usual, I'm off on a despairing tangent with this whole line of thought. Back to the moment at hand.
As I rounded the last end cap in the personal hygiene aisle, I saw the holy grail of head shaving razors. A 14 pack of MACH 3 disposable razors for only $20.
In all of the years, when I was blessed to have my wife desire me enough to be my sexy barberette, there was no other razor that could shave a head as smooth, and with as simplistic ease, as a Gillette MACH 3 razor. Granted, the replacement blade cartridges can get a bit expensive; but each replacement razor would keep me silky smooth every day, for at least a full week before starting to get too dull to take to my shiny scalp.
I was tempted to pick them up and carry them to the cart. I grabbed my phone and snapped a quick photo of the package and display, and was even more tempted to text the photo to Karen with a caption that would read, "Wanna test a theory that 14 razors could keep my head smooth for at least three months?" The thought turned me on so quickly that I almost had to make another visit to the men's room. "Clean up in pant leg 2," I chuckled to myself. But then the thought of me once again having to be the one to "beg" and ask for the fantasy killed the moment almost as quickly as it nearly came in my pants.
Still, I kept thinking about it for the rest of the night. Then, the next time I resumed my current reading marathon of "50 Shades" in preparation of next month, the idea of "50 Shades of Bald" popped into my mind.
I have absolutely no idea what Karen has planned for my birthday, but I know it falls on a Friday this year. And I've been dropping hints about the Ameristar Hotel get away idea for months now. Heck, I'll even fork over my own money for the room, if that's the hold up.
Anyway,... it occurred to me that my birthday weekend could possibly turn into one very sexy, fun filled, and busy weekend. We already have the Bon Jovi concert on Sunday the 19th. that much is a given. But with 50 Shades Darker coming out the weekend before, maybe my birthday could be a "Dinner and a Movie" date night with just Karen and I, and then get a hotel room for some role play fun.
My current plan is to take Karen to see the movie on its opening weekend,... but now I'm second guessing that plan and thinking I should go ahead and plan it for my birthday weekend instead. I'll have to start feeling Karen out, to see if she might already have plans in the works for that weekend... or, I might should just play it safe and stick to my original idea. (???)
Even though the possibility of the above mentioned scenario is about as impossible of a fantasy as any could get, the hopeful prospect of starting off a sexy weekend with an erotically stimulating movie then and carrying that momentum back home for my usual birthday sex, is potentially awesome. Maybe that would be the catalyst for Karen to actually initiate sex for a change.
Just the thought (HOPE) of Karen initiating touching, or sex, makes my heart soar. I'm not sure that I would even know how to handle that. It's been so long, I have forgotten what it feels like to be desired. I'm always on the sending end of that communication, with no signal coming back from the other side.
I'd give anything in this world to have Karen long for me the way Ana Steele longs for Christian Grey's touch. There used to be a time when her eyes lit up with desire and passion. When her lips quirked up in a sly and devious smile at the thought of what her words or touch could do to me. A time when she wanted me to want her, and it made her happy to see my desire for her love and affection.
Now, there is only the cold void of her disdain anytime that I even broach the subject. Anymore, all I get is a responding sneer or smirk expressing her disgust at the mere thought of anything sexual with me. It pierces and pains me so deeply that I often wish I could will myself to lay down and die. My spirit is broken. I am an empty hull of the person I used to be, or ever hoped to be, with her. Living in the shadow of her constant rejection is painful in ways that I cannot even begin to put into words.
Thinking back to the book what could possibly be so devastatingly horrible that could make Christian Grey not be able to allow a woman to touch his body? I am unable to fathom that. I would do anything in the world to have Karen want to touch me. In fact, I've nearly reached a point of such intense desperation to be wanted, desired, and touched, that the mere thought of any woman showing me that kind of attention is starting to become a temptation that I fear I one day will no longer be able to resist. Even more terrifying, is the thought that I could possibly Ever get to a point where I would no longer want Karen's touch, and instead would actually prefer that it would be someone, anyone, else besides her. A thought so terrifying to my mind, heart, and soul that the mere thought of it has me crying even now. Yet, that is where she is pushing me with each passing day, week, month.
I no longer feel like a husband to my wife. I am nothing more than a mere roommate; and possibly an ever more inconvenient one, at best. She recently asked me why I never come to bed, and this very fact is the answer why. I don't feel that I belong there, and the times that I have tried to come and lay beside her often prove to be too painful to allow me to sleep once I do. I want to come to bed; but I need to be invited, and I need to be wanted there. But first, I simply just need to be WANTED.
I have to stop typing now. It's time to pop a sleep aid pill, and cry myself to sleep. No late night reading tonight. Maybe I'll just slip away in my sleep, and won't have to think about any of this tomorrow. I want her so bad, and I need her to want me even more.