A woman tells: "My husband is addicted to online porn"
What is my husband on? That is hard to say. The woman who makes him hot, is sometimes boyish, sometimes full and bright make-up, sometimes strict teacher. He thinks about what he's up to, goes online and always finds what he needs. He can not touch these women, but he wants them. He could touch me. But he does not want me.
My husband does not sleep with me. He has sex with pictures. He needs scenes that make him spiteful, he hunts them on hundreds of websites. He squats on his computer in his study until late at night. "I still have to do a little something": He always says that, almost every night in a year. The poor guy is totally overworked, I thought in the beginning, when suddenly he did not even want me to do anything at the weekend, and we had always managed to do that: take some time on a relaxing weekend, stay in bed for a long time, and get together sleep. One day my friend asked me more jokingly, if after 20 years of relationship with us something was going on. "Well, right now we're both tired," I said. And silently figured out that we had not slept together for five months.
Suddenly I was alarmed, it was more than a few months without sex. Uwe seemed absent, we hardly had any physical contact, something was different. I thought of an affair, went immediately to search for clues. It was a Monday morning, Uwe was in the office, I searched for restaurant or hotel bills, treacherous hair, love letters, and of course I eventually sat down at his computer. I found an Internet course with tons of sex sites, plus some porn pictures that he had downloaded. My heart pounded almost painfully when I saw that, my whole body was in a panic. I could have asked myself a rival, I think that's what I expected, even if it did not suit him, Uwe is a quiet, rather shy person. Instead, I sat stunned in front of a screen. Cold, soulless, a thing to turn on and off.
The door was downstairs, I remember that. I turned off the PC, hurried down the stairs to the dining room. Martin, our 18-year-old son, came over from his farm during lunch break. I pulled myself together, heated soup, talked to him about a colleague who had recently had an accident at work. Internally I was completely upset. When Martin went back to work, I ran back to the PC, kept searching, like a beagle. Uwe, naked, masturbating at the desk. Uwe at orgasm. He had made dozens of pictures with the webcam. One of his probably many, many chats from many, many sex forums he had saved. "Horny cock", "cunt", "lick", "wank", "fuck": words that I had never heard of him. I was so sick, I could have vomited. I printed the chat.
"It felt like he threw me out of our bed."
I was disgusted by my own husband.
I was angry, hurt, disgusted by my own husband. The words had not shocked me for their own sake - I'm not that prudish. As an agitator in love, from me, even if Uwe and I had never used something like that. At least I thought so. But obviously I had no idea what Uwe needed. Lola, Natasha, Heidi, Denise, Pollie Popp or Gina Wild. Pictures of her pussies and tits. My husband, a stranger.
When Martin went to friends after dinner to watch football, I slammed Uwe the chat on the table. At first he just sat there silently, petrified, but after a few minutes he had caught himself and talked to me. He would not have cheated on me, it was like a computer game, a fantasy world, that's all. And that men satisfy themselves, is probably nothing new. I listened to his explanations, and somehow I wanted to be reassured. After all, there was no other. There was only one man, who with the help of a few Wichsvorlagen allowed some relaxation after a hard day's work. I only love you, Ulla, he whispered, hugging me. That night he held my hand as we fell asleep. Or rather, he fell asleep. I found no peace, this feeling of being deceived simply did not disappear. Even if it was just pictures and heated chats - Uwe cheated on me. To have my normal life, to have the sex I could have with him. To his promise to share the most intimate with me only. His sex suddenly took place outside of our marriage. It felt like he'd kicked me out of our bed.
I wanted to show him that what he liked was possible with me as well. Trying to arouse our shared sexuality, when we lay in bed told him how keen I was on him. That was not true. In fact, I never felt less like sex.I did not want sex in such moments, I wanted Uwe back. But he did not agree to it anyway. "You expect it from me, then I just can not," he defended himself as I once turned away howling. "You can always use the computer!" I cried. "You think I'm just up there and ..." - "Yes," I said. "That's what I think."
I could not get out of the pattern anymore. Whenever Uwe disappeared into his study, anger rose in me. I held for a maximum of half an hour, then rushed upstairs and spat insults. To collapse again like a pile of misery. "Tell me what to do," I pleaded desperately. "What's wrong with us?" He shook his head. Said he sometimes did not know what he was looking for in all the pages. A picture he could not describe. A certain ambience, a special position, sometimes only a different perspective.
I can not win the fight against the pictures.
Even the hunt for it upset him, and then this great moment in which he finds what he wants. He does not get it right away, he has to look for it. That's the charm, and that makes me unattractive: In contrast to the perfect picture I'm way too available. And even if I tried so hard, I just can not win this fight, I got that. Because so versatile is no woman that she happens to fit the imagination, to flashes of thought spontaneous pleasure. Red lingerie, black stockings, paint, leather, in apron or threesome.
After all, we are talking now, the cards are on the table, maybe this is our chance. Uwe can not do without the pictures, he said. But that he wants to return to our relationship and to a world in which hugs are sometimes warm and soft, not only cool and wet. We decided together to do a couple therapy, twice we were already there. I understand I do not have to compete with porn, he understands he's into an addiction. He admitted to even rummaging through sex pages in the office when his colleagues left. He has now deleted his pornographic data collection. And he leaves the door open if he has to work on the PC. A start, after all.
I recently discovered a porno booklet in the laundry stack at my son's. I tore it up and stuffed it in the garbage, in a fit of rage. I left immediately, bought the same issue again and put it in his cupboard. So he does not notice. That's perfectly normal for a boy of his age. Not for me anymore. But he really can not do anything about that.
My husband no longer sleeps with me: exchange ideas with other women in the forum
