Like a lot of people, I’ve run into a problem with porn. Not mine, though. My boyfriend’s.
He’s two years younger than me. We met on one of the bigger social media sites. We’ve been together a little over six months, and we live together.
I’ll start with the fact that I was the first woman he’d ever had sex with (he’s 23). I’m a bit more experienced than he is, and this isn’t my first relationship. I’ve been in a few long and pretty good ones.
Our first time actually happened on maybe the fourth try, because the first time he just couldn’t get it up. Well, that happens, right? Back then I thought maybe he needed the right mood, maybe he was different from guys his age who just want to fuck as fast as possible and get it over with, so I made an effort with the mood, the touching and so on. Basically I acted like a good guy who wants the woman who has decided to give herself to him to keep a lovely memory of her first time for the rest of her life. I won’t say it was perfect, because he still wasn’t very hard, but in the end we did it. And we did it for a long time; I was surprised myself that he could keep going for so long.
Anyway, after that first time he wasn’t so tense anymore, but another problem showed up: foreplay. Foreplay basically meant me pleasuring him, not him pleasuring me. I had the feeling (and honestly I still have it) that what mattered most to him was HIS orgasm and his pleasure, and that he treated me like a receptacle for his sperm.
Still, we made up for that too. He learned that a woman needs something more from sex than a dick inside her.
A few days ago I was logging in to my email like I always do, and somehow I didn’t notice that the account wasn’t mine but his (he’d used my laptop and hadn’t logged out of his email). Since it logged in automatically, the first thing I did was open the spam folder (important emails often end up there for me) and… I froze, realising this fucking wasn’t my account, it was his.
I only looked at the first page of the inbox; I didn’t feel like going any further. And that’s how I found his accounts on two sex-dating sites. Everything went black. I asked him to explain (we happened to be fighting, and he was sleeping in the other room). I said I wouldn’t make a scene, I wouldn’t shout, he should just tell me the whole truth and be honest. So he confirmed the two accounts, but said he didn’t know how they’d got there, that he’d looked once, and that tomorrow he’d write to the site’s support to have the accounts deleted, because he didn’t know how (seriously? he knows how to set them up but not how to delete them?). I didn’t fully believe him, but I let it go.
The next day I logged in to his email. I wanted to see whether he’d actually deleted those accounts. Not only hadn’t he deleted them, I also found accounts on several other hookup and escort sites. That’s when I lost it and screamed at him that he’d lied to me, and not for the first time, that he was looking for some ass behind my back, looking at hookers’ ads online, and so on and so on. The explanation was the same: “I don’t know, I don’t remember, I was only looking out of curiosity.” Then he screamed at me that we rarely have sex (seriously, once every two days, and usually every day, is rare?), and there was the fight.
It ended with us sleeping apart and the silent treatment.
But the best part comes last:
in the browser history on his tablet I found dozens of porn videos opened and watched (stuff like MILFs, mother-and-daughter threesomes, big-breasted women, naughty teachers and so on), opened basically EVERY DAY. That’s when I started putting things together and realised he watched porn and masturbated especially when we were fighting, which lately was very often. There were plenty of other interesting things in that history that hurt me badly, too (fake social media accounts, for example, even though he’d told me he didn’t use social media because he didn’t know how; deleted conversations; frequent visits to the profiles of two girls; him keeping tabs on me online because he’d convinced himself that I was the one with someone on the side)…
I asked him why, what he’d been missing. He said nothing, that he’d had everything with me and he’d fucked it up. But you can tell that even when he says he’s ashamed, he can’t say it clearly and out loud: “I’m ashamed that I watch porn and masturbate compulsively.” He just says he’s ashamed of what he did, very quietly and very quickly.
I feel like a complete doormat, as if he’d cheated on me a dozen times, as if I were just something he turned to after porn. Because I’m not saying porn and masturbation are terrible. Okay, fine, everything has its place, but for fuck’s sake, within reasonable limits.
I’m bitter, crushed, broken… On top of that there’s his constant sulking over nothing, his childish behaviour and his selfishness.
Even last night we slept apart, because he took offence that I wanted to take a taxi home in a downpour instead of the bus. But he got his way, so I trudged along getting soaked and swearing under my breath at everything, carrying his shopping, because he’d bought himself a pile of clothes and dumped his new purchases into my handbag (and on top of that my period started, so you can imagine what a lovely combination that was).
Still, I don’t know what to do with him, because I love him, but I don’t want to let him walk all over me even more, and I definitely don’t want him to keep hurting me like this.
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