It gave me expectations of what a relationship would be like. How “every six seconds” a guy’s mind went to sex. I heard stories of morning wood, and of how guy would want to fuck day in and day out. Whispers from girls in school about sex marathons, lasting all day, or even all weekend, having to take breaks for Gatorade and sustenance and then jumping right back to it.
Personally, I’ve never seen any of this to be true with David, and I can’t decide if this is just the “masculine” image society wants us to associate with virile men, or if I have one of the rare ones that isn’t that way, but that isdefinitelynot a snapshot of my life or my relationship.
As a serial monogamist, I don’t have that much experience to reflect on, but I did date one other guy for a few years long before David, and he was a lot closer to me in terms of sex drive and maybe what I expected a serious relationship would look like, at least physically. We certainly fooled around more than once a week, that’s for sure. But we were only together for a couple of years, not five. We were barely twenty when we got together, not in our thirties as David and I are now. And then again, my ex was pretty immature in a lot of respects and hedidcheat on me with a close friend, so I should probably be thankful that David’s libido hasn’t taken him to a stray vagina in the vicinity. I could easily count my blessings with him, and I often do.
How many twenty or thirty-somethings have found the person they resonate with on an intellectual level? Someone who understands their professional goals and career-oriented mindset, who encourages and uplifts when needed, and is there to bounce ideas off of when you’re struggling?
He gives great advice and I know I can go to him anytime I’m stuck trying to work out a problem. He understands that my work is my life, and that I am usually gone from five thirty in the morning until seven or eight or even nine most nights, and he doesn’t ever pressure me to change that.
My work has been my entire focus since I was seventeen, and in the almost twenty years I’ve put in there (I started working here much younger than seventeen), I have created a successful career and a solid path for my life. I am slated to take over the company by forty, I make a great living, and I truly love what I do. Not many women can say their partners are not only on board with that kind of lifestyle, but support them wholeheartedly in it.
Plus, being a few years older than me, he’s got his own career solidified, and is quite successful in his own right. The security I’ve felt with him on all levels has truly been unmatched. My last boyfriend was never sure how he was going to eat more than Cup Noodles the next day, meanwhile I was on a fast path to a six-figure income at the ripe age of twenty-one. There was always a disparity, and I don’t mean in income, but in points of view, in our goals, our reasons for getting up every day.
With David, we are in sync on so many levels, in so many areas of our lives. We have known what lies in our shared future since the early days of our relationship, and that is a comforting knowledge, a thought that brings me security no matter what other uncertainties there may be on a given day. When we lose a big account, or have a tough month and worry about making payroll. Having that kind of security in my partner to go home to… It has helped keep me steady and stable these past five years, while I have worked to accomplish so many other goals in that time.
I’ve been able to get my dream car, buy my first investment property, get brave enough to propose some of my more brilliant ideas to my dad and get the green-light to bring many of them to life, helping us hit massive targets and new levels of expansion for our company, all done with the love and support of this man lying next to me.
And it’s not like he’s unattractive; he’s conventionally handsome, in the same way I’m classically pretty, not trendily hot. Besides, I’ve never picked a partner based on looks; to be honest, I’m rarely attracted to a person’s physique. I get stimulated mentally, by what’s behind the face and body. And there’s alotright between us mentally. So why don’t I feel…well,stimulated?
Maybe I’m being a little harsh on him now, after a half a decade of sex that’s been…justfine, a relationship that’s overall been pretty fantastic, and one where I’ve seemed totally satisfied, I can’t just spring this on him and expect that he knows how I feel at the drop of a dime. This is something that we can work on, we can improve together.
When ninety percent of your relationship is textbook picture perfect, does that last ten percent really need to be there?
And even if I am a perfectionist, and I want it to be at the full hundred percent, I’m a believer in communication solving all problems, in people being able to change, and that if we really want to, we can make almost anything happen. I know it sounds a little Care Bears, but I’ve found it to be true so far in life.
So surely adding a little more satisfaction in the bedroom won’t be that big of a deal, right?
THREE
ELLIE
My knees are by my ears, my most intimate area fully on display and utterly bared to the face that’s hovering between my thighs. There’s a sticky warmth on my vagina, then pressure, then pain.
So.
Much.
Pain.
Riiiiip.
That sound is ironic, because if I were gen Z, I’m pretty sure I’d be saying “rip to my vagina” right about now.Did I use that right?I tend to tune the younger staff out when they start dropping slang around in the breakroom. I’ll have to pay attention so I can make that joke for real next time I’m here.
And then it’s over.
“Okay, Ellie!” a cheery voice chirps from between my legs.
“Already?”
She giggles and steps back, allowing me to put my legs down on the papered table. “Yep! But have I told you lately how flexible you are? Damn girl! That man of yours is lucky!” She draws out the last word in a singsong tone.
A small laugh escapes my lips while I roll my eyes. “I’m sure you tell all your clients that, Hannah. But you know how to get a woman’s legs up and give her a morning she won’t forget, I’ll tell you that.”
Her laugh is truly infectious, warm and sparkling bright despite the early morning hour and the forty-five minutes of pain she just put me through to wax my entire body from my underarms down to my toes.
It might beslightlyextravagant, but it’s one of the only things I treat myself to on the regular. My life is pretty much focused around work, and while I do have a few luxuries, like the prime, modern condo that I share with David in trendy downtown St. Pete, a decent car and a wardrobe that isn’t too shabby, I don’t tend to spend a lot of money on myself. What I tend to do is work. A lot.
So in my mind, shelling out for one of the top waxers in the area to remove every unwanted hair on my body every third Saturday morning at eight AM, on the dot, is a small price to pay for all that time I would’ve lost if I’d had to shave every other day otherwise. It’s just economics, really. Practically a business expense!
