I had been hinting/flirting/suggesting the last few days trying to get SO to come around to the idea of sex. Sometimes that works, you know. Sometimes when I keep the topic raised it starts to sink in and gets SO in the mood. I tried in the evenings after the kids were asleep. I tried at night lying in bed. I tried in the mornings when there was enough time left before the kids woke up. I even tried coming home for lunch one day.

But last night I decided to go for it and I made plain my desires. It was the last chance, I suppose, as we got into bed . . .

Earlier last night I thought SO wasn't going to come back downstairs after putting one of the kids to bed. That happens a lot, to both of us. (Hey, we get tired. Once in a while we're asleep by 9.) Usually when SO goes to bed early I jump on the PS4 and catch-up on some gaming. When SO came back down later last night, that's what I was doing. Now, as much as I was into my game I'm not going to force my SO -- who isn't into games -- to sit and watch me play a 1-player game. SO suggested I keep playing, she had things to do. But I was stoked that I had another chance, maybe I could get some action this night after all! I turned off the game.

We talked, we shared, we flipped through streaming tv options to no avail. I moved closer to her and began to massage her thighs. She offered me her unshod feet to be rubbed. I obliged! An hour and a half later I could tell we weren't moving in the direction of sex there on the sofa, and I was starting to fall asleep. To bed we went.

There we were, in bed. I in my nudity, she in her shirt. It was dark, except for the beams of the street light outside pushing through the slats of the bedroom window blinds. I love the touch of her skin. Lying on our sides, facing each other, I rubbed her thighs and calves, I rubbed her back under her shirt. She insists on sleeping with a bra on, always has. The bra strap annoys me.

I asked her if I could take her clothes off. She ignored me.

I was exhausted, but I wanted her . . . badly. Of course, I wanted her to want me too. We kissed, we cuddled. She moved slightly, pulling her hips away from me. I slowly moved my hand down her torso and into the waist band of her panties.

Then, suddenly and abruptly, she rolled onto her back and, dryly, said she would take off her panties. She did, but I could tell she wasn't into it. I suppose she expected me to jump on her and enthusiastically get busy, but her indifference was disappointing and I stopped. Still, I wanted her . . . badly. I wanted to be inside of her I wanted to touch her and feel her around me.

I looked her in the eyes . . . her eyes are amazing, even in the dark . . . and I told her I want her to want it. She said it was okay to go ahead, she knows how important it is to me. I told her I don't want to have sex with her if it's just a chore, something she has to get through. I asked her what turns her on anymore. I asked her if she misses feeling the excitement that we used to share. She didn't seem to understand what I meant. She doesn't seem to miss it.

We laid there, I didn't know what to do.

Eventually we had sex. She started to rub my cock and . . . I couldn't resist. I relented. She let me rub her clit until she was wet enough to take me. She rolled on top of me. She let me fuck her, stifling her "this is so uncomfortable" moans as well as she could. I finished. She rolled off, went to the bathroom then came back and went to sleep, saying a quick good night.

Some may say, "At least you're getting something." But I felt so slimy. I felt so awful after it was over, I wish we hadn't. I miss the good feelings that sex should conjure.