Courage in the Face of Others

The Domestic Goddess and I really have communication down to an art. We can talk about anything. Now this doesn't preempt the typical, farcical, marital spats that stem out of a lack of communication that to others would be totally obvious. I said we know how to talk, not that we can change the innate nature and qualities of a heterosexual relationship.

In the past we've had lots and lots of conversations about our sexual fantasies, our desires, our fetishes, our curiosities. The chats have been deeply erotic and have lead to frantic and intense love making. However, its typically been very vanilla love making. Hey, no harm in that.

There are two unique subcategories of failed fetishism that deserve explicit discussion though. First is bondage and BDSM. We really wanted to try this and we did, and while we discovered that she does really get off on feeling confined (gaffing tape was best) actual sessions of domination or submission intended to heighten the pleasure just left us cold. Literally. We even tried turning up the heat. You just get cold and bored and while the spanking of flogging is hot for 5 minutes you just get sore and achey and the mind goes on a little siesta.

And then there is the swinging. That is a fucking novel right there that is. I'll jump straight to the tl;dr; and summarize that while we have had some hot as hell threesomes, and feel that the more very well could be the merrier, all adherents in group sex we have met have put us off our eros. Boo. Fucking boo. My wife is all for having another girl in bed and I can't fucking find one that doesn't make me feel like I'm just being promiscuous.

Now thats an important last sentence, because this really could be entirely in my head. This could all be a me or an us thing. But I think there is a big difference between being promiscuous and being sexually adventurous.

I've been reading a lot of sexblogs lately, and I'm really fucking annoyed that we don't have the bravery to be sexual extroverts. I don't know what I/we need to do: work through personal issues? Compromise mental models of integrity? Keep it in my head while I masturbate to videos of orgies comprised of 19 year old drug addicts desperate for a dollar simultaneously selling out my dignity and exploiting young women ALL THE WHILE having a hell of an orgasm into a towel?

I wish a solution was more apparent, but exploring sexual themes touched deep into the psyche, and all the insecurity I have left in life seems to live right next to that place.

But its bloody annoying, I'll have you know.