Sexless Nights In the City

There are two kinds of people: sex-crazed freaks, chains and whips included, and those who are satisfied with masturbating to Playgirl TV. On a scale from 1-10, 10 being a sex kitten, I would probably rate myself as someone who really likes sex. Like a lot. But then again who doesn’t? What’s not to like? It releases endorphins, which gives you that feel good sensation, boosts your immune system, and most importantly, it feels great. I see no bad here. So why in God’s name would anyone want to turn down the opportunity for some bedroom booty?

One afternoon my co-workers and I hit the local sport bar Dukes during our lunch break. It was your typical guy’s guy bar. The seating area consisted of unfurnished wooden benches and tables. There was an old school, beat up Pac-Man video game by the bar. And, Aerosmith’s greatest hits drowned out the yelling of old men demanding their beers. We were all sitting next to each other, noshing on burgers, and chugging down Bud Lights. While everyone else was talking about the baseball game last night, I was talking to my friend Izzy about my situation.

“So he doesn’t like to have sex?” he asked.

“It’s not that he doesn’t like to have sex. It’s just that he doesn’t like to have sex often. In some cases he would rather be doing something else than have sex like watch Jeopardy or play Madden. Is that normal?” I said.

“Maybe he’s gay,” Izzy replied with a mischievous tone.

“Wait. You’re boyfriend doesn’t like to have sex? How’s that possible? He’s a guy. It’s programmed in our genes to like sex” Jayson intervened. He eavesdropped in on our conversation and was shocked by what he heard.

The disturbing truth was out and it spread like wild fire. All of a sudden my sex life became a heated debate. Everyone else began to chime in and threw in their two cents. What started out as an intimate, private conversation between my friend and I turned into a group discussion with all my co-workers. I’ve never heard such ridiculous theories and suggestions before.

Jayson also suggested that he might be gay too. His theory revolved around the idea of “Yellow Fever.” According to his theory, men are attracted to Asian women because they resemble the closest thing to young Asian boys. They share the same qualities as Asian women have, such as a small chest, no hips, and no curves. I have boobs. I have hips and I have curves. So obviously that couldn’t be the case.

Sex has never been an issue, well having sex that is. Everyone has issues in between the sheets. Maybe more so than others. We’ve been going out for less than a year and the sex has already fizzled. It started out with sex 4-5 times a day. What can I say? Sex with a new partner is always exciting. The sexual intensity would just combust into one big lust fest. You never know what to anticipate which makes it all the more stimulating. As the months passed us by, so did our sex life. What used to be five times a day has waned to every other day. Is this what happens to couples after being together for awhile? Now I’d be lucky if I could at least get my weekend booty. Does this make me a sex nymph or him the prude? Could it be possible that the roles have been reversed?

“Why don’t we have sex anymore?” I asked while we were watching Jeopardy on his couch. I tried to flirt with him a little by playing with his earlobe then his neck, hoping he would get the hint.

“What are you talking about?” he responded as he was concentrating intently to the Jeopardy question. “We have sex.” Then he turned up the volume and hushed me so he could hear if he got the correct answer.

And this is why we don’t have sex.

Later that evening we were getting our groove on and it started out great. I get to my usual girl-on-top position to finally achieve my Big O. This is going to be real good I was thinking to myself. All of a sudden I noticed something wrong. We started to slow down, followed by a screeching halt. Then it happened. Something that I’ve never experienced before.

“We can take a break if you want,” I offered.

“No. It’s okay,” he replied. I narrowed my eyes at him to try to read his facial expressions. My mind was made up.

“Let’s just cool down for a second,” I said. He hesitated as he struggled to find an answer and finally agreed.

We both rolled over to our backs and stared awkwardly at the ceiling. I turned to my side and started to playback our so-called sexcapde. Let’s see. Kissing and groping? Check. Fondling? Check. Foreplay? Check. Did I forget to shave my legs or put on deodorant? Was there a stinky odor lingering around that it might have turned him off? No. It wasn’t that. What am I missing here?

“Elysia?”

I turned around and Tyghe gave me an uneasy look.

“Ya?” I responded.

“I don’t know what the hell just happened.”

Ya me too! Was the sex that bad that it knocked the wood out of him? Does this happen often to guys? Maybe I might have put too much pressure on him having sex. It could be my bed. It does make a lot of noise. Maybe he’s just stressed out from work. I shouldn’t feel too bad. Maybe this has happened to him before.

“Has this ever happened before in past relationships?” I asked.

“No. Never. I never had this problem before.”

Well, that does a lot for my self-esteem. Shit. What a low blow! The only difference I see is that this time it’s him and me in the relationship. That’s says a lot about the sex between us. Not good.

That episode has officially ended. What the heck? I’ll cut the guy some slack. It obviously must suck for him too. Oh, well. Shit happens. As I got up to walk to the bathroom, I tried to remember where I placed that damn Rabbit.