I just got back from a week at Cabo San Lucas celebrating my 25th wedding anniversary, but two years ago my life was much different. My 40-year-old son had just died of cancer, leaving behind 5 children, my 5 grandchildren, and a distraught wife. My youngest daughter had gone off to college not long before, leaving me and my wife as empty nesters, and I was getting what some have called the seven-year itch.
I started reading more and more self-help books and even took a course on how to find happiness. I read “The How of Happiness” and “The Myths of Happiness” by Sonja Lyubomirsky and ended up on a quest to find my nirvana. You see, I had spent my whole life pleasing others, living for others, doing for others and all of a sudden one day I woke up and realized I needed to start living for myself.
I took to reddit to find “the wisdom of the crowd” and after a lot of soul searching and wise advice from those who had found their own peculiar ways of coping, I finally bit the bullet and accepted that my dead bedroom was the 800 pound gorilla in the room. I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t unique. Many people go online every day and lament about their mismatch in sexual libido. I wanted sex 3 or 4 times a week. My wife was good with 3 or 4 times a year. This mismatch lead to affairs IRL and online with a lot of late night cybersex. I wanted happiness. I wanted something more out of life. What was I to do?
My wife convinced me that my insatiable sexual appetitive was the problem and I need help. And the grief from burying a child was definitely causing distress. So what else could I do but go to counseling. Yes counseling, and that’s where things really went off the rails. I went from bad to worse and I was ready to throw in the towel and find solace elsewhere. I wanted to escape.
Have you ever heard of “Nonparaphilic Hypersexuality Disorder”? You can find it described in the Principles and Practice of Sex Therapy in a chapter that never made it into the DSM-5. Well, unless you are a sex therapist, this probably sounds like gobbledygook, but let me summarize my plight to saying that my self-diagnosed malady is not covered by insurance and not recognized as an “official” mental health condition. So, after months of therapy, multiple therapists and only one or two who really “got it” when it came my condition, I was stuck chasing my tail, or more like it, I was the tail trying to wag the dog.
You see, I kept going to my wife hoping I could learn the magical formula to get her hot, excited and ready for sex, and I kept walking away disappointed when she turned me down night after night. It wasn’t her fault. She just wasn’t in the mood. She was too hot and uncomfortable from menopause hot flashes. At best, it was quick and dirty, slam bam thank you ma’am. I wanted more. And since I couldn’t recreate the earth and put myself in the garden of Eden like Adam and Eve, I did the next best thing. I got into audio erotica and found an imaginary place I called [The Comealot Sex Clinic](http://comealot.net).
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/7afnst/m_how_audio_erotica_save_my_marriage_part_1