Nocturnal Erection

Waking up last night with the stiffest of stiff erections, a weekly or two-weekly occurrence springing from mental or biological causes unknown. My wife next to me, pyjama clad, inert. No point in any contact there, she’d find the intrusion unwelcome.

An opportunity thus foregone of extreme bonding, dreamy nocturnal sex being a thing of deep intimacy and trust, unencumbered with the conversations and complications of everyday life. A sleepy and defenseless union of body and souls. A secret sharing.

Lying in bed, feeling very alone. Thinking about lovers past, the times of routine mutual pleasure from such events. My Italian ex, the yoga teacher, being the most forthright, making me promise not to waste any midnight erection without waking her up. To enjoy, her words. Or at least have first refusal. Often leading to sex. For some reason, this being the only time she liked the missionary position, probably so she could stay half asleep, now I think about it.

An arrangement with reciprocal obligations, her words. She sometimes waking up horny too, or anxious about something and in need of relaxation. The result being an occasional awakening with her face on my stomach and her mouth round my cock, the transition from unconsciousness to dawning realisation being as close a thing to heaven as is vouchsafed to man.

My wife lying beside me moving in sleep. A different person entire. Long experience teaching, you can’t make someone into something they’re not, don’t waste everybody’s time trying.

Yet her distaste for my cock having a corollary. I’ll respect her preferences, and not impose it on her. But she thereby renounces ownership of it, leaving it free to find its comforts elsewhere. Use it or lose it.

But for now, no consolation. Like a wolf howling at the moon.