I don't know where to begin. I am an attractive, slim, sexy , fierce 29 year old woman and you would think I have a spectacular sex life. I don't have one, a sex life, that is. I am blonde, slim, blue eyed, well put together girl. I am that woman you eye ball and love or hate when you see me in public. No joke. It is the fuckin' bane of my existence. Men open doors for me and women slap their husbands when they walk into a wall after walking by me. You would think I could actually get laid. My husband is dead sure I am not attractive. He is a rock star. No joke. This actually happens to some people. You go to a concert. He pulls you from the audience. You fall in love. You fuck like demons and do all the crazy things your mind wanders to do. Then you get married. Huge wedding. All the great people in your life. All the "right" and famous people are there. Waterfalls, harp players, booze, drugs, rock and roll. VH1 never had footage like this. Then life happens. I have beautiful babies. (I am not trying to slander my beautiful and life giving children in this.) He sees me have babies. I still look perfect. No, really, I worked hard for it. He stops touching me. He stops coming to me in the night (or day). A few years go by. I'm 29 now. Most people would gut me stern to stem to have my life. I know how fucking spoiled this sounds. I know I am spoiled. But I haven't had sex more than five times in the last three years. I also know he doesn't cheat on me. If he did, I probably wouldn't need to blog. I could go cheat to my hearts desire, guilt free. I know where he is and what he does all the time. Not out of weird paranoia. I just know who he works with, gigs with, etc... Also I don't have that woman's intuition kicking in. I wish sometimes he was cheating. Then I could too. But, he isn't. This gorgeous, talented, connected guy who has women drooling at his every step could literally care less about sex ever again. Hard too believe? Try living it. At 29, I'm starting too peak sexually. I'm beginning to feel like a bit of a pervert actually. When the college jogging team runs by me on the sidewalk I say a silent "Thank You." When my teachers from my various academic pursuits stare at me a bit too long, I fantasize. When his friends and colleagues hit on me in dark places at his venues flirt with me, I wish. But I made a promise. In front of all our friends, family, and God (or whatever Holy belief you have) I would not stray. My husband is wonderful. Kind. Creative. Funny. Sexy as hell. And a Great Great Dad. And he never touches me. And I want to cheat. I want to be touched. It is written in my DNA. I am a woman. I haven't yet. Holy Hell. Who am I to spit in the face of all I have for a kind touch? Do I break my solemn vow? Thanks for listening.
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