So…I’ve got this little issue that began a few years ago with a series of three (well four) books that opened the door to what they would then label mommy porn. It was just the beginning for me of a new era of reading. I was so bored with books, even more bored with my love life. As you may know, we had been married around 19 or 20 years then and our love life was, well…missionary. Then came “mommy porn” and it’s gold rush of accessibility on e-readers, Audible and hiding a book behind another more serious book.
Slowly, conversations around the lunchroom and specific friends would change and we had quite a fun time sharing some of our favorite fantasies expressed more like “did you read that one scene where…” and so on. Subtlety, I remember twisting my body a bit this way and that way in bed during our “marital relations” in an effort to express subconsciously what was exploding out of my head as what I really wanted in bed, but was way too embarrassed to ask for. Yeah, that didn’t work too well. An old tie snatched out of the closet and placed on the nightstand went unnoticed. Months of this carried on. Frustration, both sexually and in our daily relationship grew as I continued my secret reading club of one. Building expectations and for some completely pathetic way never expressing them to my husband and resenting him for it. Until I began taking more, researching more, and slowly opening up to him about what I was reading. On long car rides, I would chime in…with a snuggle to the right side of the driver, hand along his inner right arm.
“Don’t you want to hear about this amazing Japanese rope tying thing I read about in this series. It’s really not what you think! The book makes it seem like so much more! There’s this class in the city where you meet up and try it? Wanna go?”
Ok. I knew it was a long shot. I wasn’t expecting him to sign up for any class or join a bunch of weirdo sex freaks on the top of a local hiking ridge with a variety of rope and yoga mats, but remember, we are still working on getting that neck tie around my eyes. The tie on the night stand? Yeah, that was my reality. It hadn’t moved. Let me give credit where credit is due by the way. If you’ve never read the amazing “Mastered Series” by Lorelei James, Including Bound, Unwound, Schooled, Unraveled, and Caged , do yourself a favor and give at the very least the first one a try. Here’s the link on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/series/109024-mastered
Anyhow, this whole series was what started the conversation between my husband and I. It was like I had to prove the beauty in what looked and sounded so ludicrous and San Francisco BDSM like when I would try to explain it. Nothing could do it justice like Lorelie James did. Maybe it was a cultural thing. Maybe we needed to go to Japan. Maybe I was craving not just some dominance but some protection. Protection not in the bedroom or from bad guys but from life and daily struggles of our life itself? These are the topics that started to build in our conversations.
Our conversations started to change with books I would read. I didn’t always stick with hard core erotica books. I love a good romance with the billionaire. My expectations would get to high and I would get home from a day of teaching disappointed that the man wasn’t waiting with his private jet and ready to strip me naked. So I would turn to more real world romances.
Books where they didn’t always have to be a millionaire or a girl in distress, where there was a sexy working man and he was good enough because HE loved HER. The author did THAT good of a job depicting the love that grew between the two “average”, but let’s not fool ourselves and say they weren’t always beautiful, characters, in a way that kept us strung along that first two thirds of the story until the problem climaxed and thank God, with an hour left in the book, we knew we had at least one good love scene left after resolution and a happily ever after.
Why do any of these books really matter? What do they really have to do with my love life? They opened the door to communication. My husband needs a visual stimulation. Most men do and for anyone out there who thinks their husband doesn’t, good for you. Check his internet history girlfriend. It’s nature. I needed my own kick starter and that was literature.
Books have led to a point of sexual liberation in our relationship. I will go into those fun details another time, and I am no sex therapist, but I did meet with one. We do have special challenges in our marriage. Our sex life is complicated by a neuromuscular disease and my own body pain and limits that I am working on. However, we now have intimacy vocabulary to work with that we never had before. We are not immune to love, intimacy, realistic expectations. I do see how some of this erotica and definitely porn can cause that issue in young relationships and sadly, young girls and boys are developing unrealistic visions of what love and respect for their body limits may look like. I’m sad for that. Truly. But that’s not what I am writing about or advocating.
My love life and relationship and even the family dynamics in my home have changed because I have expanded my sexual database (what a lame word-I can’t think of the right one for now this will have to do). OH! My sexual repertoire! That’s the word. Sex is healthy. Teens, hell, any kids need to know that their parents love each other and to see a heathy example of love in their daily life. I love that I have invested into my imagination and dared to share this with my husband. He has risen to the challenge. My heart isn’t hardened but it’s safe to say that other things have been. Wink, wink.