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Fuck Don T Let My Wife Hear You

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A spreadsheet with three columns headed "Date", "Sex? Her husband emailed it to her as she left for a business trip, choosing this moment to detail her reasons for declining his advances over the previous month, with some notes on her rebuttals: Two writers give their thoughts on this approach to gender relations. As his data shows, Fuck Don T Let My Wife Hear You man's wife has, quite rightly, got her way on all of the 27 occasions that he suggested sex with her during the study period.

He got his way just three times, when she consented. Besides his physical frustration, the husband is also undergoing a cruel mental torture. As we see from his wife's many excuses, in a marriage sex is always rescheduled rather than refused.

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And he may feel, and he may be justified in feeling, that her most common sexcuse contains a logical fallacy. Yet this overlooks the fact that he has just propositioned her — proof that, however gross she may be, he considers her still attractive enough to have sex with.

Indeed, her own restriction of his sex life may be what lowered the bar.

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Are the man's sexpectations reasonable? According to her account, until she started going to the gym, "We averaged times a week I'd say?

Including a non-reciprocated blowjob thrown in here and there. During the study period, the husband proposed sex 27 times in 44 days, suggesting that the mood takes him, on average, once every 39 hours. One might imagine he is proposing sex more often because his desire is not being met, but the data shows that even following his three successes 10 and 27 June, 12 Julyhe propositioned her again, on average, only 32 hours later. The wife concedes that their sex has "tapered", but that term hardly seems adequate to describe a drastic reduction from once every 42 hours to once every In my view, the man has a just grievance, and his spreadsheet proves it.

As Fuck Don T Let My Wife Hear You so many viral internet sensations, the backstory here is far more compelling than a mildly amusing list of disappointments.

You could spend a long time adjudicating on the infrequency of this couple's coitus and the woman's apparent lack of interest. Even before the month of judgment began, even before he sat down at that laptop, straightened his back and set about naming the columns on that XL spreadsheet, he must have climbed into his side of the bed each night, comforting himself with the thought of the trap he was about to lay as his wife pretended to already be asleep.

Boy, would she get a wake-up call when she saw her cruel indifference laid out in undeniable black and white. And she did, but not the kind he intended.

Given that a woman is allowed to refuse sex and a man is allowed to be frustrated by those rebuffs or vice versawhat part of the marital contract did he misread as "neither party must ever say what they're truly feeling"? At what point did the bad feelings inside regiment themselves into a neatly paginated plan of action?

Far better to ferment this stuff in some secret shed of the mind until that resentment is really frothing and pushing against the door and oozing through the keyhole. It'll have far more impact if you let that sucker blow when it's had a chance to really expand. And, obviously, when your wife is several miles away and won't be back for 10 days so you can't see the look in her eyes that says her connubial apparatus has just fused shut for all time.

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