I’m in a lot of pain. The man I married keeps finding ways to tell me that I stress him out. That I ruin his days. That I’m a pain in his head. According to him, I give him headaches. I make him feel unhappy, defensive, and inadequate. Today he asked me, “Who is encouraging me?” This man I spend hours talking to—about his work, his worries, his dreams. I try to lift him without sounding prescriptive or patronizing. Yet, I’m somehow still unloving and discouraging. There’s a tightness in my chest. My head hurts. I want to cry, but even that doesn’t bring relief. Sometimes, I try to think of sex, to distract myself. But with who? Who wants to sleep with a married, lonely, unattractive woman? I can’t remember the last time a good-looking man even tried to talk to me. Online or offline. I’ve lost my game. But I think I can get it back. Maybe. I got off the phone today, crying. Heartbroken. Shattered. I immediately searched for something to numb the ache. Something— anything ...
Have you ever been fucked so good that it seemed like someone pressed the pause button and all you can think of is that one magnificent fuck? Have you ever been fucked so good that you really wanted to buzz every one of your friends to explain and describe how your spirit left your body for seconds while your brains were being banged the fuck out? Have you ever been fucked so good that you get depressed the morning after wondering why you had been wasting your entire life and time having substandard sex? Have you ever been fucked so good that you had so many multiple orgasms, he started to panic and ask if you were having a stroke? Have you ever been fucked so good that you wanted to see your Biology teacher again just to smack his face and tell him how much of a bad job he did explaining sexual intercourse to your class? Have you ever been fucked so good that you considered giving testimony in church about how you discovered you could have breast, clitoral and vaginal orga...