In the past few months Belle and I have fought just a handful of times. I attribute that to our having strengthened our relationship overall in the wake of my infidelity last year. Better communication, more intimacy, and frankly, less resentment towards each other has kept us from tripping on the small stuff. Now, apparently, we only fight about big stuff.
I have no idea when last night’s conversation turned the corner from a discussion of how we deal with my increased sexual interest vs. her non-interest to an all out screaming slugfest that, at one point, had her telling me to sleep downstairs. And it’s still so fresh and intense that I’m not sure I’ll be able fairly relate her point of view. I do know that the entire D/s framework that we’ve built around our relationship is barely standing this morning.
The evening started out great. We were laying in bed, making fun of the news and generally being wise asses with each other. Lots of laughing. Then, the TV and lights went off, she told me to get naked as usual, and I folded myself into her. For me, approaching two weeks without a proper orgasm, that kind of contact with her in that unclothed state makes me think of pretty much one thing. When she moved my hand to her breast, I took that as a positive sign. Apparently, though, she didn’t want sex and only wanted me to hold her. Most nights, she assumes her roll as Belle Fille and shuts Thumper down. Last night, she was my wife and I was (apparently) making her feel guilty for not giving me what I wanted. This initiated the conversation. I said I didn’t need sex from her every night, but that I did need to see some engagement by her in the power exchange dynamic. She said she felt inadequate to the task, didn’t want to always be playing the game, and worried that I was unhappy. Eventually, the conversation burrowed all the way back to the infidelity and her fear that somehow her denying me (to which, of course, I’m a party) would lead me back to the frame of mind that allowed the infidelity to occur. Then, at some point, there was yelling.
Of course, the whole D/s thing was totally shattered. I felt ridiculous as the only naked person in the room, doubly so with the stupid polycarbonate attached to my dick. I very nearly got up and removed it about a half dozen times, but I never did. Somehow, it was the last vestige of what we had built up and to remove it would signal a total collapse. I didn’t want it on me, but I wanted it off even less.
I suggested to Belle that perhaps this type of dynamic was inappropriate for us to play with. If she could tie it somehow to the years of issues that led to the infidelity – a position I can’t understand as I see the attention and commitment to our D/s as proof of how far we’ve come from that time – then it was either not the right thing for us in general or it was the wrong time for us to do it. If she’s going to have a hard time dealing with my perpetually high sexual needs, to the point of us having a screaming fight, then we needed to get rid of them.
I don’t know what all this means. I don’t know where we are now. I am completely taken aback by what happened as I was pretty happy with where we were immediately prior to the fight and had no idea it was coming. Further, I have no idea how I’ll feel if we pull the plug on our D/s experiment. We’ve invested so much into it. It’s become something of a compass for me. If it were to suddenly disappear, I fear we’d be adrift. At least temporarily.
Obviously, we need to talk.