I decided this yesterday and informed my partner. It’s a practical decision: I have a dance performance this evening, I can’t afford to burn up any significant amount of energy before I perform, and it’ll be too late and I’ll be too wiped out after.
Yet lying in bed this morning, when my partner reminded me that I wasn’t allowed to have sex, I felt a little hard done by. We cuddled, and he caressed my breasts, and I stroked his cock, and I was a bit disappointed that this was all I would get for the moment.
Now, zoom out. If you had told me a year ago that I’d get my knickers in a twist that I wouldn’t be allowed to have sex for one day and I’d be pissed off about it, I would have scoffed.
And then maybe the idea would have taken hold, and I would have imagined what it would feel like to desire so much that giving up one day would feel like a hardship, and I would have been a little sad, grieving for the libido that didn’t exist.
And now I laugh a little because I finally solved my mystery and it’s no longer like this. My libido does exist and has come out of hiding. My already excellent relationship is that much richer.
And he’s promised to fuck the shit out of me all morning tomorrow.