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The Awkward Love Of Real Life

I think that most mothers may have a romantic side to them.

They want to have excitement in their love life. Making love to their partner in a manner that seems unplanned, un-missionary, exciting, thrilling, etc. A chance to get all that pent-up sexual frustration out. A planned date night is always a good idea. It lets up prepare for the night ahead, so you know what you need to do to make that evening one of a “Romantic” nature.

Every woman has their own idea of their perfect romantic fantasy.

Have you ever tried to live yours out?

If you haven’t, you should. I bet you and your partner would have fun if you tried. Make your date night special by trying to make your sexual experience a little more exciting.

Real.

When my husband and I started becoming more experimental in the bedroom, it was fun. But, it was also very, very real.

The life of love, as you age, can often become a battle over ailments, as I have found.

There seems to be issues with back pain, cramping of random muscles, and soreness in my hips that I never thought I could have. These ailments are causing the love life, that I imagine as exciting, to become real. Real quick.

We both still enjoy the time we have together, but the outcome in not always as exciting as I see it in my mind, leaving me feeling a little bereft.

It begins with a mental portrayal of how it will all play out. It’s very exciting, very sexy, and we’re both into every moment. And, those moments all feel GOOD!

So the date night happens, we have the whole evening to ourselves. No baby shark, no being ignored by my teen, no asking to go to the mall, no asking for snacks. None of it. Just me and him.

So we go to dinner. What do we talk about? The kids. Work. The plans for next week.

This is the only time we really have together to discuss these things, so it might as well happen now, right?

No! We try to find something else to talk about.

We try to think about something to do after dinner; a movie, mini golf, billiards. But we are both just so damn tired, we decide to go home and get things done so we can rest. That’s what we really need, alone time together and some rest.

I still have that mental portrayal of how this evening will end going through my mind. Exciting, sexy, and into every moment of it. And, I want it to feel GOOD!

“Oh honey, I ‘m so hot for you right now!”

He goes to kiss me, but he must have had tuna for lunch.

“Honey, let’s brush our teeth before we start.” I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but I also don’t want him breathing tuna breath at me while I try to get in the mood, so I include myself in the fresh breath event.

The hot and heavy gets pushed to tepid as we stop to freshen up a little bit.

“Ok. Oh, honey! I’ve been hot for you all day!”

He begins to kiss me with fresh breath, and starts to take off my clothes. Starting first with my shirt and bra. He then goes to pull my pants, sexily, down my legs. But the yoga pants get stuck on my calves. I’ve always had legs a little on the larger size.

Yes, I wore yoga pants on our date. Comfort in a priority.

So I start to feel awkward that my pants don’t just slide down my legs, like they’re supposed to, and stopped the kissing so that I can pull them off myself. I don’t want to get caught up in my pants and fall to the floor!

“Ok. Oh honey! I’ve been hot for you all day!”

The kissing re-starts and is now followed by some very soft touching.

I start to get concerned that he’s going to feel my foopa, see my stretch marks, or feel the back fat that has popped up out of nowhere. But, he seems pretty into it, and I made sure the lights were just dim enough to soften all of the flaws that have come into my life since bearing two children.

So, I too, try to get into the mood.

Things start getting hot and heavy!

Seriously, It was hot.

I thought I made sure the cooler was turned down. Why am I so damn hot?

I start to sweat. I just took a shower!

My husband starts to sweat, and he’s dripping it on me. Ugh. I don’t want to have to take another shower!

Speaking of shower, the plumber’s supposed to be here tomorrow at 4 to fix the toilet in the front bathroom.

Crap, Jenna has that homework due this Friday! I really need to get on her to finish that.

No! I want this. I need this. Concentrate!

From my husband, “Oh, you feeeeeeel so good!”

Oh! I guess I should say something back.

I make a comment, deep in my throaty voice, about the size and length of his manhood and how it feels.

Then, all of a sudden he stops, and juts his left leg out to the side.

“CRAMP!”

So… we switch positions so he can #1: stop sweating all over me, and #2: stretch out his leg that started to crap up from all the thrusting.

I get on top, concerned with how my sagging breasts look in the dim light. I should have dimmed it just a little bit more….

I begin, and it feels so good!

Yes!!

This is it, I’m really starting to finally get into it and enjoy the experience.

I speed up, wanting to bring us both to ecstasy.

I start to feel a slight pinching in my hip.

Ugh, I knew I should have stretched before hand.

The pinch starts to turn into an ache the faster I go, but what I’m doing to cause the ache feels so good!

My husband starts talking dirty again, so I kiss him to shut him up, and he explodes into orgasm.

OH THANK GOD!

I collapse onto his chest. His wet and sweaty chest, to rest. I do my best to soothe him, and again, make complements of his manhood.

Then I try to get off of him, but my hips are so sore. I need another moment.

This is going to hurt tomorrow, and I have to take the kids to school registration in the morning.

“Was it good for you?” My husband says between panting breaths.

So, yes. Mothers deserve to enjoy their sex lives. It would just be nice if that life wouldn’t include worries about our bodies, the homework that’s due, or the soreness that is sure to make the following day a pain in the ass.

It was a good mental portrayal, but life is life. We gotta enjoy whatever we can of that. And laugh at it all, so we don’t go crazy.

Wanna read some of life’s crazy moments from a mom that’s not quite sure what she’s doing? Head over to WhyMommaWhy.blog.

Thanks for reading!

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