Is a comment like this to be avoided? How about ‘that is so ghetto’ or ‘that is retarded’ or any other slang like that?
Some people choose to dislike comments that could, in any way, possibly hurt someone else’s feelings. Should you choose to never say “that is so gay” because somewhere, someone within hearing range could be gay or know someone that is gay? Should you never refer to anything as ‘retarded’ because a person hearing you could know a person that is mentally retarded and could therefore take offense to it? Are we as a society so incredibly mentally fragile that an offhand comment could ruin our day?
It’s slang, not hate speech. It’s a comment, an expression of our feelings. It is no different than cussing as it is essentially an adjective or an adverb. It simply helps describe a noun or a verb. A word that helps describe an action, or a person, place, or thing. Someone I know recently told me how much they hated hearing someone say the word ‘gay’ when referring to something that was not of interest to them. Then later, they heard someone refer to themselves as ‘redneck’ because of the way they acted or lived.
According to my friend, this first person (a male) was calling a poem ‘gay’ because it was equating a feeling that was not very masculine. It would mean that this guy could not bear to think of this poem without admitting to having feelings, which is not very manly. It also meant that he equated a poem regarding feelings as being likened to a guy who wanted to marry another guy, or a girl that wanted to marry another girl. Apparently, calling something ‘gay’ is now belittling the entire homosexual rights movement as being no more important than a mushy, emotional, heart-felt poem.
According to my friend, another person said that because they had a jacked-up pickup truck with big tires and a loud exhaust, their truck was ‘redneck’. In my friend’s mind, this person was happily degrading his own life to that of the stereotypical redneck. A racist Southern good-ol-boy with a pinch of Copenhagen in their lip. This ‘redneck’ truck must be getting ready to go drive out in the swamp to go alligator hunting and check on their moonshine still or something.
People, please, please stop reading so far into things. We as a society should not have to watch every single word we say in the fear that somewhere, someone may take offence to it. We should not have to live our lives in a way that forces us to never do anything that any other person may not agree to. We have many freedoms, and one of those is the freedom of speech. This freedom includes the responsibility to stand accountable for what we say, but that does not mean we should never speak our feelings.
Let’s take this a step further. Let’s say this person who made the comment ‘gay’ really was subconsciously meaning it 17 layers deep. Let’s just say that an emotional poem was so mentally bothersome that he could not allow a single thought in his head that he could think of as feminine. Maybe the idea of him having an emotional thought is just as unacceptable as him having “sex” with another male. Is he saying that only a woman should have sex with a guy, and only a woman would have an emotional thought? In his mind then, would calling this poem ‘gay’ be actually the right thing for him to say?
Personally, I will not censor my thoughts, actions, and speech to such an extreme. I will censor what I say and do just because it may upset someone somewhere. If what I say or do offends you, then maybe you should stay away from me so you aren’t so horribly offended. Or maybe you just need thicker skin so little things don’t bother you so much. Before you start yelling at me for my way of thinking, consider this. If my comment here struck such a nerve in you that you feel compelled to respond, then look again at what you are thinking, saying, or typing. What you are about to say may offend me or hurt my feelings. Does that mean you’re not allowed to say it? Watch out for the double standard folks. I have just as much right to speak my mind as you do to speak yours.
Today was running normally enough. The morning routine went without interruption – wake up, breakfast, drive to work, work work work work, then go to lunch. But at lunch, I was yanked rather rudely out of my routine. It threw me off-track for the rest of the day. I think I will still be stuck on them tomorrow also. Dammit.
There were four young people at a table down the aisle from me, and for some reason I was drawn to staring at them most of the time I sat there. They were oblivious to me, they probably wouldn’t have noticed me unless I jumped up on their table and yelled at them. Well, all except one girl. She glanced at me a time or two. I think she just liked the attention.
At first I was upset at them. They were laughing and talking the whole time. They didn’t order a standard lunch, they just had a couple of platters of appetizers to share amongst themselves. I was upset about the lack of order. I was upset about the noise. Then it hit me – I was really upset about them because I realized that I was no longer like them. I used to have friends like that. I used to enjoy myself when going out with them. I saw a few colleagues of mine at another table, and they looked just like they do at the office, and probably just like I look myself. The co-workers looked stressed, aged, and underneath it all, an aura of sadness. The “kids” looked upbeat and happy, they were enjoying themselves; underneath it all, they had an aura of happiness. I was suddenly jealous.
Although I realized what I was feeling, I couldn’t help watching. Maybe I was punishing myself or something, I don’t know. I’m in my early 40’s, and I know it shows. However, that one girl that saw me watching, she was probably 20. She probably caught me watching 3 or 4 times. She didn’t seem to say anything to her friends, but I know she knew I was spying on them. A couple times, she gave me a quick wink, probably just to say hi. (I hope) They didn’t appear to be couples, just some friends. It’s not like I just intercepted a wink meant for someone at her table. Like I said, I’m old and I look it. She wasn’t leading me on or anything. From their talk that could be overheard, she seemed to be quite intelligent. I just hope she could read what was happening here.
This may seem like a long message about me bitching about getting older and having to work too much. It’s not, don’t let my bad attitude distract you. It’s a wake up call to me. Telling me to break out of my shell. Get it together and remember what it’s like to have a life.
This is also a message to you young people. To those “darn kids” who dare to enjoy themselves. Those who like to hang out with friends, just getting together for lunch. THANK YOU. Also… That person you see sitting in the corner of the restaurant isn’t just some pervert stalking you. Maybe that is me. Just ignore them. Maybe say hi. Maybe you will help make their day. Maybe you will help prevent them from being a bitter, mean, mad old fogie. Maybe you can help them realize that life is there to be lived and enjoyed. You don’t have to “DO” anything to help. Just be yourself. Just do what you’re doing. Thanks again.
In conclusion. Get out and enjoy life. Break out of your shell. Do something. Don’t let your job become your life. Become your younger self again – and you will thank yourself for it.
Things to think about to help you on the road of life:
- Think Outside The Box
- “Your Place In Life” remains to be seen
- Do what works best for you, your family, and your friends – not “them”
- Question Authority
- Ask “WHY”
- Getting old sucks – enjoy your youth.
- Experience makes great stories years later
In a freak meeting with a friend of ours who writes erotic fiction, we have agreed to post this to hopefully get more exposure to the story. Yes, the story posted here have the full approval of the copyright holder to this story.
Feel free to read the story here, or click the link below to read it on Literotica’s site so you can find related articles, or more stories by the same author. After reading (and before leaving their site) please leave a rating and comment at the bottom of the page to let him know how he is doing.
The Picture Game
Who can get more nude photos of strangers, him or her?
I read something online that I just had to try. My wife, Katy, and I were not very much into sexual experimentation, but this was just too hard to pass up. The story was that during a game of Truth Or Dare, a guy had to take a picture of any girl’s boobs — any female except the one he was there with.
A couple days ago in the grocery store, I told Katy that it was easier for a girl to make a physical connection with a guy than it was for guys to get physical with a girl. That usually, most women have their pick of any guy they want, and guys that aren’t very physically attractive only get the desperate girls. She firmly disagreed. She said she wasn’t desperate when she chose me, and I think she was just trying to save face now. Neither of us are really at that much to look at, just average, in both face and body.
We continued this discussion throughout the store, to the car, until I asked her to pull into the nearest fast-food restaurant. She looked at me kind of odd, but pulled into the next Burger King. We just got fries and drinks just to have something on the table. We went back and forth for a while about what gender has an easier time of getting a mate, or into the other’s clothes.
I had been working on this in my head for a while, and now was the time to spring it. I told her that we needed to have a bet. There were about an equal number of of men and women in the seating area. I said that we would each take turns talking to one or two people of the opposite gender. I would ask as many women as I dared ask if they would go down the hall into the family restroom with me, and if they would use my cell phone to take a nude picture of me. Well, not totally nude, just my junk, from my waist to my knees.
That’s all — no sex, no touching, just a picture, and on my own phone. But, every woman that I spoke to would be rated by Katy on her looks. She would keep a count of the “good, medium, and ewww” looks, and whether or not any of them took me up on my deal. On the other side of the coin, Katy would also do the same experimenting to see how the numbers added up. The picture taken would be a little higher — just her boobs.
She said that we should try a few different places to make sure that we don’t raise any suspicions of people there. But she also asked what else was allowed. I wasn’t really sure what to say. We went back and forth, and decided that asking for a picture of the other person would be OK, just not anything further than the picture they took of us. What about any touching? This was already a bit of a ‘dare’ situation, and we really did not know how far things would possibly go. BUT, we had to say what we were really up to. And we had to point out our spouse.
Well, 100% truth wasn’t needed, but we had to stick close to the truth. I could not believe this! She was up for it, and was even interested in mixing it up a little. I wasn’t really sure that I was fine with her fucking someone else, I never thought that would happen. We finally agreed that it was legal to touch, fondle, lick, etc – but no sex. Specifically, a cock entering a pussy was a no-no. Suddenly, I was no longer interested in our discussion, I just wanted to see what kind of trouble I could talk some girls into.
Katy said that since it was my idea, I should go first. She had a funny smirk on her face — and I knew that look. It said I was wrong, and that she was going to enjoy watching me fail. I was sure determined to get some pictures now!
I went to go get a soda refill, surveying the faces for a likely candidate. Locating target #1, I sat down at the table next to hers. I was so incredibly nervous! Shaking off the stutters, I said ‘Hi,’ then got down to it.
I said “OK, this is really weird, but my wife and I have a bet going. She’s right over there (pointing to her as she waved our way), and I was wondering if you could help me with our odd bet.”
As I got the whole first sentence out, I calmed down a bit. She just looked at me weird, looked back at Katy a few times, then looked back to me, shrugging her shoulders and said “OK, why not? I’m up for a bit of weird today. What do you want?”
I took a deep breath, looking at the table. Looking slightly embarrassed, I looked back into her eyes. “Can you take a picture of my with my cell phone?” She looked at me weird for a moment.
“No, not like that. Not my face. Can you come with me to family restroom, stand across the room from me, and take a partially nude picture of me?”
I think I shocked the hell out of her, she couldn’t talk for a moment. She just looked back and forth between Katy and me. I guess what was going on finally worked itself out in her head — she just got mad, called me “a sick fucking pig” and stomped outside. I never did see her again.
Feeling kind of depressed because of the turn-down, but kind of turned on by even just asking, I went back to my table. Now I got to watch her take her turn. She looked kind of nervous like I did. She skipped the wandering method I had used, and she went directly to one table like she had been studying the room.
Watching her, I could tell Katy was only being a little bit flirty. They both waved at me and I waved back, and started ‘the looks list’ for her. This guy was starting to look at her and me both a bit oddly. But after only about 2 minutes, she looks back at me and winks. Suddenly the guy decided he was done eating, and they both got up. After dumping off his tray, the both just turned towards the family restroom. I could have sworn that she stuck her tongue out at me right before she closed and locked the door.
After five minutes, I was starting to wonder what the hell was going on, they both finally came out. He went right out the door, and she came back to the table with me and slid her phone to me as she sat down. Looking at the list of photos, it turns out that he took 4 pictures of her. Her grin sure said she was enjoying the flash! The next one was a surprise though. It was a picture of a cock, and it wasn’t mine. She saw the shocked look on me face and said “Hey, it’s fine — I asked him if I could get one of him, and he gladly obliged.” Well, I couldn’t complain — rules are rules. But I didn’t ask about anything further.
Since we didn’t want to make a scene and possibly get in trouble, it was time to move on. In the same shopping center, there was also a few larger retail chain stores. It was my turn again, and I thought that the Linens-n-Things was a good bet for lots of women, one of whom might be interested. We both wandered around for a while, getting a feel for the store, the customers, and more importantly, finding the restroom section. Lucky for me, it was a quick search — just two sections away from the restrooms we saw an fairly good looking woman flipping through the bulk fabric. She looked kind of bored, so I thought that I had an even better chance. I did spot a wedding ring though. First thing to pop into my head was the hope that she was looking for something to spice up the afternoon. Katy moved off to start the grading while I moved in on the attack.
The last time, my approach didn’t go so well, so maybe a different routine would help. “Hi, I have a bit of an odd request, and I was hoping you could help me out.” She didn’t catch all of it, she seemed like she was in another world. Wow, I thought, maybe she’s just looking for a little bit of excitement to kill off the boredom.
She gave me an embarrassed kind of grin, shook her head, and said “I’m sorry, I’m not really all ‘there’ right now. What did you say?” I repeated myself, and I could see the interest in her face right away. “Sure, why not?”
YES! “Great,” I replied, “ummm, well, I don’t really know how to say this, so I will just blurt it out. My wife Katy is over there watching us. Ya, that is her waving. I want to get some pictures of me for the wallpaper on her cell phone, but I don’t want it to have that goofy pics that have the flash glare of a mirror, and me missing an arm. Could you please take a few pictures of me with this phone?”
She seemed to be trying to decide if I was some type of freak, glancing between Katy and me. After thinking it over for about 10 seconds, she said “Sure, why the hell not. Here, hand me the phone.” I hesitated and made a little show of looking around, then acted relieved when I saw the family restroom just a few paces away.
“Hey, we shouldn’t have the camera going out in public like this, how about we head into that restroom over there? I would feel a lot less awkward.” She stopped to think, but I guess the excitement won out. She said OK, so we both headed over.
Once we got in, I locked the door, and at the same time I pointed to the button to start the camera. She got it running, moving it around and checking buttons to get a feel for it. Making my move while she was distracted, I walked to the other side of the room while I took off my shirt and un-did my belt. As soon as she looked up, her jaw unhinged and her mouth hung open.
I could read what was going through her mind. I said “See? I might get in a tiny bit of trouble outside this room if I did this. It’s for my wife’s phone, and this is they type she wants. Good time for ground rules…” Then I gave her a once over of the rules, adding I wouldn’t touch her without her permission. She was still a bit uneasy, but she was game.
She thought about it again, then got a huge grin. Saying “I saw you looking at my ring — don’t worry about that, we’re separated. You know what though… what the hell. This could be fun!” then snapped a quick full-body shot.
Undoing my jeans quickly, I let them slide down a tiny bit, and pulled out my cock out. Giving a couple quick rubs wasn’t doing the trick for me though. “Dammit, this is supposed to be a good cock shot, not the limp guy.” Still grinning, and now biting her tongue, she walked over to me and grabbed ahold of my dick. A couple of squeezes from her and I was now completely ready! She turned around, walked back to the sink, shaking her ass at me.
Keeping her eyes glued on my cock, she took about 3 more, then said “one last one, and it’s a close-up.” Coming back over to me, she lightly grabbed my dick, and got down on her knees in front of me. Moving around a bit, she pulled my pants down, got the picture she wanted, and stood up, handing me the phone.
I was sad to see the moment passing, so I tried for Part 2 before the mood was gone. “Hey, since you’re obviously enjoying yourself here, did you want to get a bit more risque? This one is for me, not my wife. Can I get a picture of you flashing your boobs to me? No face, no clothes, no ring, just a close-up of uncovered boobs.” I kept eying the front of her shirt, wondering what kind of goodies were hiding.
Grinning, she told me “why the hell not? It’s just a flash.” And she did just that. She kept staring at my cock, watching it react to her movements. One at a time, the shirt’s spaghetti straps and bra straps over her shoulders came off, and she pulled her arms free. Down came the rest of the shirt, pushed down bunching up around her stomach. Closing her eyes, she slowly pulled down the bra, and her breasts came free, pushing out to the sides a little bit, but still perking up nicely. Breathing kind of heavy, her hands came up and massaged the firm globe. The fingers came around front, rubbing around the small brown aerola, as they quickly tightened up, pointing at me. I realized that I was just staring and not taking pictures!
As promised, I got just boobs, and damn it was a nice view. She finally opened her eyes and said “OK, stop for a minute” so I pointed the phone down, thinking I was done. But no. “Just one more picture” she breathed. She got down on her knees and moved forward, pushing into my legs. One hand came up to hold the phone away from us, and the other hand grabbed my cock, which immediately became rock hard. Slowly, she wrapped her lips around the head of my cock and rubbed her tongue all over it.
She grabbed my other hand and make me hold one breast. As I moved my hand down to squeeze the offered nipple, she gasped, then shoved her mouth down on my cock, burying the head in the back of her throat for what seemed an impossible amount of time. I don’t know how she managed to breathe, but I was beyond caring. With her free hand, she massaged my balls while she inhaled me, from the tip of my dick, lightly scraping her teeth on the shaft, and burying her nose in my belly, rolling the cockhead around the tight entrance of her throat. I have never had a deepthroat blowjob like this — I could not stop myself from cumming.
All I could do is grunt and groan, my hand tightening on her breast, feeling a rock-hard nipple between two of my fingers. My whole body shook as I felt all the energy in me shoot out into her mouth. I felt her use my cock like a sucker, her hand pulsing on my balls, working every ounce of cum out of me. Before I was ready for it, she pulled back, took my tool out of her mouth and started rubbing it across both breasts, tickling the head on her nipples, then cradled my cock between them.
She finally let go of my phone hand. Breathing heavy, she got out “take one last picture, hurry up.” I could barely hold my hand steady enough to see, and my legs shaking made it even worse. As soon as the camera flashed, she started directly into my eyes, and put just the head of my cock between her lips, and I could feel her tongue move all over it. Slowly pulling it back out, she smiled “I just wanted to make sure I got all of it.”
Our bodies shaking and minds numb, we managed to get dressed and compose ourselves before walking back out of the restroom. We got back to where we started, and she shocked me by saying “Thanks so much for letting me have some fun. Today was boring as hell, and this was quite unexpected. Hope your wife enjoys your pictures!” And she turned and left, gone before I could gather my wits and thank her for helping me.
Now that the buzz in my head was wearing off, I realized that I didn’t know where Katy had run off to. Actually, I had no idea how long I had been gone. On rubbery legs, I started walking around to try to find her. Just a few moments later, I heard her call me. Turning around, I saw her coming through the doors to the warehouse area. A store employee came through the doors a second later, looking frazzled, with messed up hair, and his uniform in disarray. With the look on her face, I immediately knew that she got some more pictures too, but that other guy’s look said she got more than that.
Once she got close enough, I turned and walked with her towards the front door, both of us silent until we got outside. In a slightly odd voice, she said “I heard what was going on in there. At first I was mad, but I trusted you to follow the rules. You took so long, I decided to get some pictures while you were busy. Well, I got pictures also. I didn’t think being naughty like this would be so much of a rush. But I need my pussy filled, and you’re the only one that can do that. We need to get home now!”
Right before we got in the car to go home, she looked at me over the roof and asked “So, tomorrow do we go to Home Depot or Best Buy?”
Honesty is an awesome quality, but why can’t you be honest, even when you know you are anonymous? I have installed the Truth Box on MySpace and the Honesty Box on Facebook that are supposed to let people leave anonymous comments for me, or to anonymously answer a question I ask. I have asked (in person) for people to send me comments, as well as asking online via my wall. Very few people actually answer, and the ones that do are more smart-assed than truthful.
I’m not directing this post at any one person or group of people, but more specifically people in general. Some people have told me in private what their answer would be, and it is frequently an answer I never would have come from them. Really, it IS all right to answer online. As much as the people I know absolutely LIVE on this social networking sites, I am honestly quite surprised that they ignore requests to interact online more.
Does it seem that daunting to send an anonymous message? Or to answer a question? From some of the questions I saw, I can understand not wanting to answer. For example, while on Facebook’s Honesty Box, would I really want an in-law, or sibling, or colleague answer one of these questions:
- Have you ever wanted to kiss me?
- What is my most beautiful feature?
- What would you do with me in the back row of the cinema?
- If I showed up at your door as a blind date, what would you say?
- Where would you most like to vacation with me?
- What is the first thing you think of when I call you?
- When you see me walking down the street, what is the first thing you think?
- How would you feel about going on vacation with me?
- If you could do absolutely anything with me (and get away with it) what would you do?
- What kind of underwear would you buy me?
OK, so not all of them look too horrible, and most look fairly innocent. However, I do see a dilemma in answering some of them. I am married, but what if an in-law of the opposite gender wanted to answer something completely honestly, and it would be something their spouse (or mine) would find inappropriate? Or if the answer could come back to point at them? The only way to safely answer is to… no wait, maybe there is truly no safe way to do it.
I would love to know what people honestly think of me, but online methods are just as ineffective as real-life methods. You usually won’t hear what people really honestly think. It’s either to “protect your feelings” or to keep someone else from knowing how they really feel about you. Keeping those secrets hidden and safe is usually more important than them speaking their mind. It doesn’t matter whether this truth is regarding body odor, parenting abilities, a sexual attraction, or job performance.
Live a little. Take a risk. Tell the truth. You may be surprised at the reaction you get. Honesty is refreshing.
Recently I have started writing erotic fiction. I have always wanted to get into the porn business, but the picture and video type has such a huge negative stigma attached to it. Writing is fairly anonymous, has a lower risk threshold, and is easier to keep the wife from worrying about “fringe benefits” that the other type could involve.
Erotic fiction is porn for the brain. You get to escape the images forced on you by movies and pictures. Everyone can look exactly the way you want them to. You can even substitute some faces and bodies that you know for the people in the stories. In movies, it always seems like the camera is not really part of the action – you are always an audience to the events. In stories, most are written first person, so most everything is happening from the personal perspective.
I saw on a message board that someone had posted a dirty story, and I didn’t see until later that I knew the email address it came from. Out of boredom, I had read the story, and was surprised that it had captured my interest in a way I had not known for years. I thought this was like the stories you read in porn magazines, only in ways that were believable. I was intrigued. I looked around some more and found that the same email address had posted other stories too. Hooked, I went and looked up other websites that offer stories to read. I read A LOT of them.
Not too long after that, without thinking I was doing it, I started coming up with story ideas in my mind. To make the voices go away, I wrote down what I was thinking. Then I couldn’t stop. It’s like trying to dam a small stream by standing in the middle of it. That only works for a bit. Then it pools up and ends up finding another way out. I couldn’t stop the story. I had to finish the words I had started. Once I finished the first one (and going over it a few times to fix stuff), I felt relieved. It was out of my system. Or so I thought. Once I got the first one done, there were suddenly five more bursting at the seams! Dammit! Well, out they came.
Once the dam on the little river had finished bursting, I felt better. I thought I was done. Just to see if anyone else thought they were any good, I conned my wife into reading them, having her think that they were from someone else. Surprisingly to me, she liked them. Wow, was she ever shocked when she found they were from me. Since then I have signed up for a site that hosts them for me so many others can read them too. I’ve actually got good responses, and encouraged to do more.
Since I’m still new at this, I’m not really all that good, but I do think I am improving. I have an account at Literotica.com like many other aspiring dirty authors do. Since everything that I write is copywrited to me, I still have the “rights” to it, just like we have here at WordPress.com.
The bad part about this writing is that I can’t tell many people about it. It’s like regular porn – only a select few people can know about it so that not everyone thinks I’m a freak. I know one person in my family that has done some porn that contain movies. MANY people know about it, and they all talk behind her back about how gross/funny/wrong/etc that it is. I don’t really care!!! I would rather not see the video(s?) with her, but I have no problems that she has done them. But the stigma is there. She will always be the one people talk about with “remember when she did porn?” And I really don’t see that happening in a good way. I just write stories. No big deal, right? It’s easy enough for someone to not pay attention to the author name on it.
You should really head over to http://www.literotica.com. Your brain will thank you for it.
What would you choose if you were given the choice of giving up either music or sex for one year?
A few days ago I heard this thought-provoking question on a radio talk show. It hasn’t stopped bugging me since, and I keep changing my answer, then trying to rationalize each answer to myself
My final answer is that I would give up sex. Yes, really. I would prefer to have one year of music instead of one year of sex. Well, more accurately stated, I would give up all the sex I could have had in one year in order to keep all of the music I could absorb in one year.
I would love to have a year where I could have sex any where and any time I wanted, but I know that is an impossible dream. I can, however, easily attain the goal of listening to music any where and any time I want. And with any one I would like.
As many married people know, their sex life before marriage is usually really good. The frequency, the variations, etc, etc. However, once the blushing new bride gets a taste of the wedding cake, the good sex life is usually on it’s way out. Most of the time, within a year, the sex life they had is a distant memory.
I have been married for several years, and in that time I have gone from “a lot of sex” to “almost no sex” and have actually adjusted to it quite well. Surprisingly well, in fact. The hardest part was the transition from ‘lots’ to ‘none’ but once that was done, the rest of the road downhill was not too bad.
My story matches that of many other men. Before we wed, and right afterwards, the sex was awesome. We both craved each other’s body. Many weekends it would be surprising if either of us left the bedroom for more than 5 minutes. But after the wedding, she got mysterious headaches that lasted for weeks. And she was having her period about 5 weeks a month. There were suddenly worries that someone “would see us” or that nothing could happen because the sheets were just washed so we couldn’t get them dirty. Or a special TV show was coming up.
I’m not saying this looking for sympathy or because I’m whining. This is just part of my story, and it’s so typical that I could have just copied some other whiney husband’s story (although I did not). This is just part of the reasoning behind my answer.
So you see, “losing” the option for sex is not really all that big of a deal, it’s essentially gone already anyway. Bring on the music!
What would your choice be? Why?