Is Sex Starve Common In Long-Term Relationships?

"Honey, it hurts …" Three years after getting married, Chelsey Jenson finally beds her husband, Lucas Yates.But even as he's above her, he's calling out his first love's name. "Shannon, I love you …"Lucas loses his sight for three years, and Chelsey cares for him without a complaint through the whole ordeal. What's the first thing he does upon regaining his sight? Seek out his first love.During an interview with the media, Chelsey announces, "Lucas Yates has erectile dysfunction and can't satisfy me in bed. I want a divorce!"The divorce becomes the talk of the town; everyone knows the handsome, rich, and powerful Lucas is useless in bed.Many years later, Lucas ends up chasing Chelsey all over the world. "Honey, I was wrong. Let's remarry!"Chelsey turns him down without hesitation. "I'm not interested in men with ED, so stay as far away from me as possible. Don't stop me from getting together with those young and fresh men!"

A strong, influential, and well-respected man in society, has a high sexual libido, hence, sex became his weak point. He was carried away by the touch of young women till he got lots. His pretty wife, after years of being angry with his high sexual habit resolved to save him with the same thing he loved most, which is also his weak point- sex. Later, she realized that she did not just save her home and marriage, but also her husband's life, call, and career.

"Fuck you, Marcel.” “I could,” he says, smiling. “Though I haven’t had sex in years.” “Well, I pity the woman who breaks that streak.” “I do too,” he murmurs, his eyes shamelessly roaming my body. ~~~~ Marriage is supposed to be a blessing. Mine? A fucking curse. My husband loved his job more than he ever loved me—or so I thought. Until I discovered he wasn’t just married to his work. He was screwing half the damn city. And then he had the audacity to serve me the divorce papers. So I left. And Aiden King—his powerful, arrogant rival—opened his door. That was five years ago. Now I’m wearing a ring again. But not his and Marcel doesn't seem to care “This is….so …wrong,” I said practically out of breath “You still taste the same” He Says lining at my entrance “I'm not your wife anymore I'm married now” he said raising my hips to meet his mouth “That means fuck to me and Last I checked, you said ‘I do.’ Walked down the aisle to me. I’ve got the marriage certificate—and a memory of you screaming my name while taking my cock,repeatedly that night any other marriage you think you're in is irrelevant” He says as he slams into me with one brutal thrust God help me. He wasn't wrong….

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.

My husband, Chandler Goodwin, claims that he doesn't understand what the phrases "silent treatment" or "giving the cold shoulder" mean. Yet, in the three years we have been married, he has never once spoken to me sweetly. The first time we have a falling out, I remain proud and dignified. We end up ignoring each other for seven days straight. The seventh time we have a cold standoff, I start to panic a little. However, despite trying all sorts of methods, he doesn't back down. The 11th time it happens, I have already learned to work through my emotions myself. Chandler doesn't even need to say anything before I take the initiative to apologize first. I simply think that he's just a naturally indifferent person, that nobody can warm his stone-cold heart. Then, on the third year of our marriage, I accidentally ruin his dress shirt while ironing it. Chandler doesn't say a word, but that very night, he packs his things and moves into a hotel. On the third day of being blocked, I head to his company with a handwritten apology. While passing by his office, I spot him leaning over to shoot his angry assistant a doting smile. "I'm sorry for raising my voice at you just now and upsetting you. It's been 57 minutes since you started ignoring me. Please stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?" I freeze on the spot, the apology letter in my hand practically burning my fingers. As it turns out, it's not that he doesn't know what the silent treatment means—it's just that I've never been the person he wants to coax.

I accidentally stumbled upon numerous explicit videos on my husband's computer while tidying up his desk. The videos showed him in bed with my unmarried best friend. The relationship between my husband and me had been platonic ever since I gave birth 40 years ago. His reason was that he was no longer capable of physical intimacy. Now, it felt like my entire life had been a sham, despite all my efforts for my family.