Our sex life was mostly centered around his pleasure, and was not particularly satisfying. If it started getting truly sexy, he would suddenly finish. I did my damndest to move away from the now-hoary “Daddy” and “good little girl” talk, feeling that after a week of my non-stop presence we would be a bit more sexually connected than that. We were actually growing close as friends, and the amount of counselling I administered to him during the days would have cost him thousands of dollars with a professional. Why not grow close to me? Why not be normal about this? Why not care about the fact that he was getting the privilege of shtupping a hot piece like myself, instead of turning me into an object of his pleasure only?
He would exclaim “That was great” afterwards, while I secretly thought the opposite. It was such a surprise and a disappointment. I hated the way that I was feeling about it, and eventually voiced my displeasure at his detachment, his lack of affection, and his cock-centered sexual nature. I told him that I hated how he rolled over and watched TV immediately afterwards; how, when he whipped his cock out, it was as though he became glazed-over and strange and disconnected from the woman (that woman, of course, being me) he was spending all of his time with. This was news to him. And thus, the second week that I was there, we lay side-by-side in bed like a couple in a loveless marriage. I wanted desperately to have good sex with him, but he wasn’t initiating it anymore, and consequently, neither was I.
One week of being someone’s whore was enough for me. And perhaps I would have extended it if it had actually been raunchy and hot, but it wasn’t. And he had assured me before I came--when I expressed my fears that he would treat me poorly and make me uncomfortable--that there was no pressure and we could simply become good friends, so I kept that in mind. He revealed that he’d sustained a gross trauma in 2001, when a girl he loved very much died under very nasty circumstances, and had thus shut himself off from affection and closeness since. He had never dealt with the tragedy, simply bounced onto the ex-girlfriend and carried on, steadily eroding on a spiritual, emotional, and psychological level.