What Might Happen
Few mammals are preprogrammed for monogamy and yet, most of us cheerily toe the line of commitment in the face of biology. But limiting libidinous conquest to a menu of one can’t cage the big fat sex organ in your head. Does a straying mind make you a stray dog? What are you freaks really thinking about in flagrante delicto?
In committed romantic relationships, extracurricular sex is generally frowned upon. That’s why people call it “cheating.” There are exceptions, sure. Some partners have open marriages, swing, or occasionally bring another person into the fold for added excitement. But by and large, most prefer a monogamous arrangement. Stay in the pasture. Eat the grass. No one has to release the hounds.
Of course, if your mind works anywhere close to normal, it’s going to wander—at least occasionally. It ambles away on the morning commute, in class, while the boss is telling you something important. So how can you be expected to keep it laser-focused on the sexual here-and-now every single time?
The short answer? You can’t.
Insert, remove, repeat.
Okay, let us first pray to your deity of choice, invoke the four winds and make a sacrifice to the flying spaghetti monster to ensure this is not an apt description of your sex life. If, however, you’ve reached a point where the moves have all been patented, you may be living in that odd purgatory where you’re getting laid regularly, but it’s become less captivating than, say, the Family Guy episode (which you’ve seen 37 times) that’s serving as the background noise to your coupling.
At this point, does the mind look elsewhere for titillation?
“It depends,” says Manuel, 39 straight and single. “Sometimes you get so used to your partner’s actions and reactions in bed that you have to psychologically enhance the experience if they can’t surprise you in subtle physical ways anymore.”
The good news, according to some of the happily-marrieds polled, is that sex can be good, and continue to get better, in long-term relationships. And healthy fantasy—some shared, some kept clandestine—is part of the equation.
Case in point: Palmer and Susan. In their late thirties and married 12 years with two young boys, their lives are far more complex than when they were college sweethearts or childless newlyweds. Sex is less frequent, maybe twice a week as opposed to the daily romps enjoyed early on, “but it’s more intense,” says Palmer, “more fun.”
In the years since getting together, they’ve moved from what Palmer calls “basic fucking” to a mode where other elements are incorporated. “Talking dirty, toys, or a certain environmental situation. If we’re staying at a hotel, for example, we always do it on the balcony or in front of the window. The thought of somebody watching is a huge turn-on for both of us.”
Fair enough. But back home, in real life, doesn’t the mind occasionally drift?
“Absolutely. Isn’t that what keeps sex with the same person for 12 years exciting? Though, when I do fantasize about other stuff, Susan is a part of the action. I never pretend that she’s someone else. I don’t cut-and-paste the hot bartender from the restaurant where we just ate into bed instead of Susan, but there’s a good chance that while I’m fucking her, I’ll imagine she’s licking the bartender’s pussy at the same time.”
It doesn’t hurt that Wifey often instigates with her own decadent dirty talk. “She’ll say, ‘What if that hot bartender was straddling my face right now? I’d stick my tongue inside her cunt and make her come in my mouth….’ It’s all over for me at that point.”
Deep down, says Palmer, his favorite fantasies are rooted in the idea that they’re not entirely implausible. “That’s much more exciting to me than getting all worked up about something that will absolutely never happen.”
In committed romantic relationships, extracurricular sex is generally frowned upon. That’s why people call it “cheating.” There are exceptions, sure. Some partners have open marriages, swing, or occasionally bring another person into the fold for added excitement. But by and large, most prefer a monogamous arrangement. Stay in the pasture. Eat the grass. No one has to release the hounds.
Of course, if your mind works anywhere close to normal, it’s going to wander—at least occasionally. It ambles away on the morning commute, in class, while the boss is telling you something important. So how can you be expected to keep it laser-focused on the sexual here-and-now every single time?
The short answer? You can’t.
Insert, remove, repeat.
Okay, let us first pray to your deity of choice, invoke the four winds and make a sacrifice to the flying spaghetti monster to ensure this is not an apt description of your sex life. If, however, you’ve reached a point where the moves have all been patented, you may be living in that odd purgatory where you’re getting laid regularly, but it’s become less captivating than, say, the Family Guy episode (which you’ve seen 37 times) that’s serving as the background noise to your coupling.
At this point, does the mind look elsewhere for titillation?
“It depends,” says Manuel, 39 straight and single. “Sometimes you get so used to your partner’s actions and reactions in bed that you have to psychologically enhance the experience if they can’t surprise you in subtle physical ways anymore.”
The good news, according to some of the happily-marrieds polled, is that sex can be good, and continue to get better, in long-term relationships. And healthy fantasy—some shared, some kept clandestine—is part of the equation.
Case in point: Palmer and Susan. In their late thirties and married 12 years with two young boys, their lives are far more complex than when they were college sweethearts or childless newlyweds. Sex is less frequent, maybe twice a week as opposed to the daily romps enjoyed early on, “but it’s more intense,” says Palmer, “more fun.”
In the years since getting together, they’ve moved from what Palmer calls “basic fucking” to a mode where other elements are incorporated. “Talking dirty, toys, or a certain environmental situation. If we’re staying at a hotel, for example, we always do it on the balcony or in front of the window. The thought of somebody watching is a huge turn-on for both of us.”
Fair enough. But back home, in real life, doesn’t the mind occasionally drift?
“Absolutely. Isn’t that what keeps sex with the same person for 12 years exciting? Though, when I do fantasize about other stuff, Susan is a part of the action. I never pretend that she’s someone else. I don’t cut-and-paste the hot bartender from the restaurant where we just ate into bed instead of Susan, but there’s a good chance that while I’m fucking her, I’ll imagine she’s licking the bartender’s pussy at the same time.”
It doesn’t hurt that Wifey often instigates with her own decadent dirty talk. “She’ll say, ‘What if that hot bartender was straddling my face right now? I’d stick my tongue inside her cunt and make her come in my mouth….’ It’s all over for me at that point.”
Deep down, says Palmer, his favorite fantasies are rooted in the idea that they’re not entirely implausible. “That’s much more exciting to me than getting all worked up about something that will absolutely never happen.”
It's pretty much a cliche, but the mind really is the greatest erogenous zone. I couldn't be with someone who felt that thinking about someone else while having sex is cheating. It just doesn't work for me. And it's creepy and a little too possessive for my liking. Unless I was a submissive in a D/s relationship.... hmmmmm