He Lost His Erection While He Was Inside Me

When you’re in a sexually unsatisfying long-term relationship

This past weekend, after months of a nearly sexless marriage, I decided to make a move on my husband.

Shocking, I know.

To be brutally honest, I feel that my sexual needs have been completely neglected by him, and I just couldn’t take it any longer. I needed to be thoroughly fucked, and despite the other issues he and I have been having, I wanted to connect — both physically and emotionally.

I needed him to feel a burning, passionate desire for me. I needed to feel his hands on my body and his mouth on mine.

I wanted to feel his weight on top of me as he hungrily thrust into me, unable to control himself.

My libido has been in hiding for a long while, and our relationship has been more platonic than ever. Sure, we fucked in the hot tub during our mini-honeymoon in mid-March. We even made love at the end of April, after I told him I’d snooped through his phone and found some surprising texts to other women.

But that latest occasion had been a bit disappointing for me. As per usual, he fucked me from behind until he came. I didn’t come at all. There wasn’t much kissing or foreplay or passion. It was a bit of a letdown for me, especially after feeling so sex-starved for so long.

Other than those two rare sessions, we’ve been having a lot of trouble in the bedroom. My husband is struggling with erectile dysfunction, and it’s really dealing an emotional blow to both of us.

He’s gotten medication for it, but he’s yet to try it. The question of planning to have sex and taking the medication beforehand just doesn’t seem to come up in our conversations. It’s also difficult for me to schedule sex when I’m busy scheduling doctor appointments, dentist appointments, after-school activities, and a busy co-parenting calendar with my ex-husband’s wife.

It certainly takes work. And the chances of investing more effort and emotion into our sexual relationship when we might only find more disappointment makes it that much harder to want to do that work.

His pleasure first

This past Saturday, night owl that I am, I crawled into bed around 3:00 a.m. to sexually reawaken my marriage. I wore new black lingerie with very little material and woke him up by pressing my body against his.

He woke up and responded to me instantly, and I thought it was a sure sign of how much we’d been missing each other.

His hands gripped my shoulders as I nuzzled his chest and pressed my hips into him. But instead of bringing me in for the deep kiss I so badly craved, he pushed me down to his cock, placing one of his hands on top of my head for good measure.

I was immediately disappointed, but still hoping to turn things around. I really do enjoy giving pleasure by giving head — it would have just been nice to warm up to it. To be shown some small amount of desire before we immediately focused on his cock.

But, I thought, if this was what he needed to be turned on, I wanted to do it. I may be wrong, but because there was a chance his ED could stop things cold, I wanted to make him as hot and hard as I possibly could.

I went to town for a while, taking him deep in my mouth over and over while massaging his balls. I started slow and then sped up, and after several minutes, he started thrusting his hips so that he could increase the speed even more. His moans got louder, his breathing heavier. I stopped, not wanting him to finish just yet.

I wanted my husband inside me. I needed to feel him.

I rolled off of him and onto my back, hoping he’d want to climb on top of me.

But first, his hands found my nipples. Because I wasn’t aroused yet, they were a bit too sensitive. I don’t like them being played with unless I’m turned on, so I guided his hand away.

Next, he mounted me and tried to enter me. There was no kissing my mouth, my ears, or my neck. There was no slow, long make-out session. No hands caressing my skin or fingers running through my hair. There wasn’t even a moment of looking in each other’s eyes. In fact, that seemed like something to be avoided.

I still wasn’t warmed up enough, and he didn’t slide into me easily. It was a bit uncomfortable, but I guided him in the best I could.

I was just at that point, you know? I think it’s a point many women in my position can relate to. Yeah, my body wasn’t responding since very little time or effort had been taken to arouse me. But I still wanted to connect. Even if he wasn’t going to give me what my body personally needed, I still wanted to experience that closeness. I missed it so, so much.

Eventually, his cock was deep inside me, and he started sliding it in and out. I grabbed his shoulders and hugged him tightly, feeling his skin against mine. I released a few quiet moans from the pleasure I always seem to experience during those first few moments of being penetrated.

He won’t even look at me

After a few minutes, the thrusting got too mechanical, and I felt an unexpected wave of sadness and disappointment. He wasn’t kissing me. He wasn’t even looking at me.

I stared up into his face as he kept his eyes closed or locked on the wall ahead of him.

I made a game of it. How long can I stare daggers at him before he notices and looks me in the eye while he’s inside me?

Yes, I know. Looking at me is something I could have asked him to do. I could have asked him to kiss me, to caress me, to be affectionate with me so I could get aroused.

But I’m so, so tired of having to ask for the things he should want to do. After 11 years, he knows my body and my mind well enough. After months of little to no sex, I don’t want to have to delegate tasks that he damn well knows would give me amazing pleasure.

I love to kiss you. I love your fingers on my clit and your tongue in my mouth. I love your fingers inside me as you tease my ear with your breath. I love your head buried between my legs as I smash your ears with my thighs. I love to make out with you for a long, long time.

And I love when you look at me like I exist. Like you’re hungry for me.

He could do all these things and more. He’s done them before, and he’s done them very well. But it doesn’t seem to be a concern of his anymore.

Crying over lost desire

As he slid in and out of me, he didn’t look down into my eyes once. When I started crying, he didn’t see the tears.

I’m not exactly sure why I got so emotional. I don’t know what came over me, but I think I was grieving the passion and emotion and connection that we used to share so effortlessly and so strongly. I missed how he used to love to give me pleasure.

I was yearning for that part of us. Missing it so much that I was just…overwhelmed with sadness in those moments. I felt a couple of tears slide down my cheeks, and then I regained control.

Soon after, his thrusts slowed to a stop, and he rested his head on my shoulder. He didn’t come, and I knew that he was no longer hard.

He doesn’t seem to have this trouble if I’m giving him head or if he’s masturbating. Apparently, it’s fucking me that scares the erection away. I think it’s safe to say that he doesn’t feel attraction for me anymore. But I know he feels it for other women.

I wouldn’t mind him being preoccupied with other women if he could also make room to desire me along with them. If he could be present in the moment with me. If he could kiss me and show physical affection for me and put my pleasure first sometimes.

After he pulled out of me, he made his way down to between my thighs and spread my legs with his hands. I quickly swung my knee over his head and closed my legs. Because I was still not at all turned on, I knew I wouldn’t be able to take his mouth or his tongue on my sensitive parts. I applaud his effort at that point, but, just as he’d lost his erection, I’d also lost my desire.

I want to do the work

We didn’t talk about it.

It was probably the worst sex we’d ever had as a couple, but there seemed to be no words that needed to be said about it. We both knew and understood it was no good.

I left the bedroom and slept on the couch. I’ve been doing that a lot lately because he’s told me that my snoring wakes him up. (Add that to the list of reasons I’m completely undesirable.) He doesn’t offer to sleep on the couch instead or to take turns and switch nights with me. And that hurts. It reminds me of how we typically tend to his sexual needs first on the rare occasion we attempt to have sex. His needs often override mine.

We didn’t talk about our failed attempt at lovemaking the next morning either. And we haven’t discussed it since. We also haven’t tried to have sex again since.

In any long-term relationship, you run into roadblocks. We’ve been dealing with sexual dysfunction for longer than I’d like to admit. We’re also experiencing frustration when it comes to finances, emotional connection, and trust issues.

But I strongly believe that a couple can work through the rough stuff if they both want to and are committed to doing so.

There was remarkable magic here before. It’s just a matter of doing the work to get it back.

Thank you for reading. Sign up for my newsletter, and I’ll send updates from time to time on my latest creations. You can also follow me on Twitter.

This story is part of Sexual Espresso, a column published here on Sexual Tendencies.