Literotic asexstories – Dormant Desires Pt. 01 by becca20S,becca20S
I’ve been a long time reader on here, but until recently I had never seriously considered writing anything myself. But after having by far the most eventful sexual experience of my life last fall, I’ve decided to document that amazing night. Suffice to say, everything I’m about to write is actually true, at least to the best of my recollection from when it happened a little less than a year ago.
Now, I am someone who understands the importance of anonymity, so I will be purposefully vague about names and places. This story takes place at a college, and specifically in a dorm, and I won’t be mentioning the names of either of those. But what I am willing to tell you is that it takes place at a very large public university in the United States. It’s the sort of college where tons of people who have no formal affiliation with the school will still live and die by the success of their sports. But there’s nothing specific about the school that really matters for this story, as it’s mainly about a group of boys I met that night.
All of the characters’ names in the story are fake, but the people are real. My husband’s name is also made-up, and I don’t refer to our son by any name at all. For those of you curious about my Literotica handle, as you could probably guess, my real name isn’t actually Becca. But Becca is a name I’ve loved since I was a kid, and a name I’ve always fantasized about having in an alternate life, and sometimes I’ve even pretended to use it as my alter-ego from time to time. It’s also the fake name I used during this night in question, so I guess you could say it’s the one accurate name in the story, because that’s actually what the boys in the dorm were calling me that night.
Like I said, this is supposed to be a true and faithful retelling, but the one limiting factor is definitely my memory, which I’ll be the first to admit isn’t perfect. But on top of that, at some points in the evening I was a little overwhelmed by all that was going on, so I probably didn’t start out with a full recollection of the night either. So full disclosure, I may not remember exactly how every specific detail and conversation occurred, but I’m going to do my best to fill in the blanks with what I think actually went down. I’m sure not all of the dialog is exactly right, but hopefully I’m giving as fair and balanced a portrayal of the night’s events as I can.
And finally, as I mentioned at the top, this is probably the only true story I have that’s even remotely worthy of sharing here on Literotica. So it’s totally possible this will be both my first and last contribution to this great site. I do have plenty of ideas for fictional stories though, so depending on how this submission goes, maybe there’s a chance I’ll branch out later and try to write something fictional. But for now, I’m more worried about the task at hand, so without further ado… here goes nothing!
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Dormant Desires * Part 1 of 3
Here I am, a 39-year-old woman sitting in a parked car on some random college campus. I’m not that far from where I live, but I don’t think I know anyone at this school, and I have no actual reason for being here. Specifically, I’m in front of what’s supposedly a freshman male dorm, and one in which I’m praying doesn’t accidentally have a resident I know. My hands are wrapped tightly around the steering wheel of my Toyota Corolla, but the engine is off. I have a pretty even mix of nervousness, excitement, and embarrassment coursing through my body. But at least I feel alive, which is something I haven’t felt in years, if not longer. So let me explain how I got to this point…
I got married young, at the age of 20 to be exact. Later that year, I gave birth to our one and only child, a son. And boy am I glad we did, because he’s a joy. He’s turned into such a great all-around young man, that my biggest issue is having to remember to restrain myself in being too effusive of him. I could just sing his praises for hours, even though for both his sake and the people listening to me, it’s probably better that I don’t.
My marriage on the other hand, has not turned out nearly as well. It would be really easy to pin all the blame on my husband, Greg, but that’s probably being unfair. More than anything, I think we’re just not a good match for one another, and to be honest we probably never were. We’re not in love. There’s no romance, and at this point we’ve stopped having sex altogether. Like it’s literally been two whole calendar years since the last time we fucked.
For at least the past decade, our union has been a partnership based solely on raising our son. Which if that was our goal, then I think we’ve succeeded in doing a great job, but I’m finally realizing that’s no way to go through life. It’s so terribly lonely to not be loved in a romantic way, to never be touched by another person, and worst of all to feel unwanted.
And just to clarify, while I’m definitely not blameless for the state of our marriage, the complete lack of sex is one thing that is 100% on Greg. Even if our relationship hasn’t been great, I’ve still always tried to find the time to be intimate, and I’ve always been the one willing to initiate and put myself out there. The biggest difference lately is that while previously Greg would eventually come around with enough persistence, he’s reached the point now where he’s just done with it. Like completely. He’s flat out told me that he doesn’t think he’ll ever have interest in having sex with me again. Which as you might be able to imagine, is a pretty crushing thing for someone to hear from their spouse.
The ironic thing is, he doesn’t even want a divorce, at least that’s what he has always claimed. I guess he has just come to accept the fact he’ll never have physical intimacy with another person again, and is somehow okay with that? I personally can’t even begin to comprehend Greg’s mindset, because I’m living that life right now and it’s downright miserable.
One thing I’m pretty confident about is that I don’t think he’s having any sort of an affair. I guess anything is possible, but it just feels so unlikely. Greg hardly ever goes anywhere on his own, I’m talking like even for a few hours. He never travels for work or anything, and anything sexual seems to be completely off his radar, like to the point if we’re watching tv and there’s a sexual joke, it will almost certainly go right over his head. Years ago I once proposed that we try watching porn together, and he reacted as if I had suggested we go torture animals for fun. He was simply disgusted with the idea. I can’t even imagine what he’d think of my Literotica habit, but after seeing his reaction to my suggestion of watching porn, I have no interest in finding out. Suffice to say, it would be utterly mind boggling to discover that he’s capable of having an illicit sexual relationship with someone else.
So instead, I’ve just come to the conclusion that he must be clinically asexual. One of my good friends, who I’ve confided in about all of this, is adamant that any wife who thinks her husband is asexual, isn’t actually married to an asexual person, but rather to someone who’s simply gay. Personally, I don’t know. She could be right, but at this point does it even matter? Whether Greg’s asexual or homosexual, the end result for my marriage is basically the same. It’s doomed.
I do need to point out the good things about Greg, too. He may not be a great husband, but there’s no doubt he’s a great father. He’s also a very kind and generous person, and he’s the type of guy that is so sincere, it’s just really hard to ever stay mad at him. He’s always thinking of other people, almost to a fault, and he can be a fun and interesting guy in a platonic sort of way. And while these traits may have led our marriage to last way longer than it otherwise would have, at this point I’ve realized that his being a super nice guy is simply not enough to hold on to anymore.
Less than a month ago, we dropped our son off at college for the first time (again, a different school than the one I’m currently sitting at in my car). But this basically meant that our job of raising him is now officially done. And so I realize just how cliche it is for our marriage to end right after this milestone, but cliches are cliches for a reason. Because they usually make a lot of fucking sense!
The last couple of weeks as empty nesters have been completely miserable. At least they definitely have been for me, but it sure doesn’t seem like Greg is having much fun either. And so after struggling to sleep all last night thinking about us and our marriage, over breakfast I finally told my husband of almost 20 years that I needed some time apart. I didn’t come right out and tell him that I wanted a divorce, because I’m honestly not quite at that point yet. But I did tell him that I didn’t want to live with him anymore, at least not for the foreseeable future. Somewhat surprisingly, Greg didn’t seem the slightest bit upset or surprised at the news, and despite my insistence that I would go sleep at a friend’s place, he told me that by the time I got home from work today he’d be out of the house, and I should be the one to stay.
And so all of this happened this morning, and sure enough when I got home from work a little over an hour ago, Greg had taken a few things and was gone. So what am I now doing outside this college dorm? That’s a great question, and one I don’t even fully know the answer to. I do know it’s about 5:45pm on a beautiful fall Friday evening and I’m roughly a 35-minute drive from where we live, or I guess I should say where I live now.
The main reason I’m here though, is because of one extremely minor thing I saw when Greg and I dropped our son off at college three weeks ago. It’s so small and stupid, it’s embarrassing to admit that it had such a lasting effect on me, but it’s clearly the reason I’m now sitting here at a completely different school.
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