“Just F@#$ Me Already!” What Nice Guys Don’t Understand About Sex

Sometimes, I feel like that masked magician who went on tv to give away all the secrets of magic.

My new avatar?

My new avatar?

Here at the Big Dick Chronicles I offer free of charge, and open to the world, insights into the often dysfunctional inner workings of how men think. I do this for good, you understand. This isn’t ammunition; it’s designed to help improve marriages.

If you are married to, or in a relationship with, a Nice Guy, congratulations. You are probably involved with a very skilled lover. Technically speaking.

We Nice Guys pride ourselves on being competent, and sex is no exception. We strive to make sure that we’re capable of satisfying a woman as thoroughly as possible. If our bedroom were a restaurant, our motto would be, “Nobody Leaves Here Hungry.”

Which is an apt metaphor for how we view sex.

Being with a Nice Guy is like having your own personal chef, on call 24 hours a day to provide you with a seven course meal of orgasmic delight. All you have to do is give us a nod and we’re pulling out the dough hooks for some made from scratch pastries.

In fact, we live to cater to your desires with a menu that would impress Chef Mario Batali.

He's impressed.

He’s impressed.

It is all yours! And all you have to do is let us cook for you! And why the hell are you pulling out a loaf of bread and a pack of baloney!
Oops, sorry. Nice Guys don’t get angry or frustrated. I’ll cut that last paragraph during editing.

This is how we think. We have the ability to bring you the utmost in sensual pleasure. We’re willing to perform these duties any time and anywhere. We’ll fire up the grill, we’ll do all the work, hell we’ve even do the dishes and put the kids to bed.

We are offering you gourmet seven course sex here. So why is that when we turn on the oven, you give us this pained expression and say, “I’m really not that hungry tonight, dear”?

Ladies, are you tired yet? I bet you are. Knowing what I know now, I’m tired for you. That is utterly exhausting.

Gentleman, listen up! Your sexual abilities do not dictate her hunger for sex!

I’ll give you a moment. Go ahead, I’ll wait. Better now? Okay, let’s continue.

Nice Guys are notoriously caught up on making sure we aren’t jerks when it comes to sex. If you aren’t satisfied, we feel like failures. Worse yet, we feel selfish. These are two of the most difficult emotions for any Nice Guy to endure. It’s even worse when we experience them together.

So sex becomes an event for us. We’re gonna make sure you get your money’s worth baby!

Every Nice Guy reading this is asking, “So what’s the problem?”

It isn’t what she wants.

What do you mean?! Who doesn’t want a gourmet meal?

Sorry guys, it isn’t for you to decide.

If you are one of those guys who says, “I’m going to blow your mind for three straight hours” every damn time you have sex, you are going to be disappointed. Whether you like it or not, this isn’t what women want.

So what goes wrong?

1. Too much pressure.
Guys, you have no idea the pressure you put on a woman when you make it clear that your intention is long, drawn out, multiple orgasm sex. Men don’t get it because we have no concept of failing to orgasm. We’re more concerned with trying not to orgasm.

If your wife is faced with the choice of trying to meet your expectations of responding with multiple orgasms (unlikely on most days) or simply avoiding the encounter…well, you know what happens. You get sex when she’s in the mood for marathon sex.

2. It becomes clear that you aren’t listening.
If your wife says, “Okay, but make it quick.” What do you hear? Your initial assumption is that she’s offering placating sex; the worst sex imaginable for a Nice Guy.

"I hope he hurries, I forgot to dvr Love It Or List It."

“I hope he hurries, I forgot to dvr Love It Or List It.”

But perhaps, just maybe, she just wants it quick.

This was one of the hardest truths I ever had to accept. The day my wife said, “Sometimes I just want you to throw me down, fuck me hard and walk away,” was difficult for me. I knew she was telling me the truth, but it contradicted everything I thought I understood about women and sex. She was asking me to…to…oh my God, she was asking me to act like a jerk.

(and all the women cheered)

3. You are completely dismissing and bypassing a women’s desire to be used.
This one was so hard for me.
Women can get off on the sensations of being used.
Women can have mind blowing orgasms from being taken.
And most importantly, women often prefer being used over being catered to.

How the hell is that possible?

Quite simple really; servants aren’t sexy.

Chris Hemsworth is sexy.

You're welcome ladies. You know who you are.

You’re welcome ladies. You know who you are.

And I guaran-damn-tee you he never once got laid by promising to service his wife. That’s a guy that throws you down, rips your favorite panties off (and you don’t mind, do you ladies?) and just pounds away until he’s satisfied.

Can you pull that off? I bet you could. If you tried.

4. Her orgasm is her responsibility.
I’m borrowing this concept from Athol Kay  at marriedmansexlife.com.

Make sure you understand the intent of this statement. I’m not telling you to be an asshole. Just be mindful of the fact that it’s perfectly acceptable to most women for you to orgasm even if she doesn’t. If she wants it, she can let you know and then do your best to accommodate.

Trying to force it upon her is ultimately selfish when you stop to think about it. It’s saying that you understand what’s best for her more than she does. It says that your desire to prove your ability is more important that her ability to enjoy sex the way she wants. It says you aren’t willing to consider that you might be wrong about this.

Have a conversation with your woman. I dare you. Asking if she feels pressured when you have sex. Ask her if she actually wants it quick sometimes. Ask her if it’s okay for you to be a jerk once in awhile.

And then, for God’s sake, listen to her when she answers you.


I Miss Your Touch

I bet you didn’t know I write poetry, did ya?
Hell yes. 2nd place in the regional poetry contest back in 6th grade. Some crap about a rainstorm. All I remember is that it didn’t rhyme and that somehow made it better than the ones that did.

On through college, I found it was much easier to be poetic when I was miserable and lonely. I haven’t had that in a long time, so my poetic skills are a bit dusty.

I’ve been in Iowa for a week now and I’m ready to get home. I missed my daughter’s 10th birthday yesterday and I will miss my youngest daughter’s Tae Kwon Do test tomorrow. There is a little bit that old melancholy setting in and it has stirred up the poet in me.

This is a tribute to my wonderful wife, whom I am missing very much right now.

Your eyes are shining and you smile.
“I want to touch.”

Fingertips drag across my chest, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
I want to grab you and throw you down, but no. You want to touch.
Your hands are cool, a refreshing contrast to my hot skin.
You scratch, you kiss. You nip.
“I want to touch,” you say when I yelp.

I surrender to you, I am yours.
Soft whispers of touch cover every inch of my body,
slowly exploring as if it were the first time.
I close my eyes, hypnotized as you trace a line up and down my arm.
I am lost in the tenderness of your touch.

I try not to kick you when you poke that spot in my side.
“Let me make it up to you,” you say.
And your touch isn’t cool anymore.
Hot, wet kisses make slow circles down my legs,
tempting me with promises of what your touch can do.

I am fully yours, but I will not beg.
It isn’t required; you want to touch.

Your soft touch turns hungry.
I am at your mercy and you tease me.
Drawing me close to the edge, pulling me back. Over and over again.
I will not beg. But it is not required.
You want to touch. And taste.

You nuzzle my neck and caress my face, curling your body against mine.
Tomorrow, I will throw you down and have my way with you.
Tonight, I am content to let you touch.

Friday Night With No Kids! Let’s Do Something Different!

Like go to bed early.

As I’m mentioned before, we live in a rural area. We’re about an hour from anywhere big enough to go out for a night on the town. So it is a constant struggle to decide if we want to be out of the house for several hours, or just stay home and enjoy the quiet while we run around in our underwear.

I put these on as soon as the kids walk out the door.

I put these on as soon as the kids walk out the door.

This weekend, the in-laws took the kids overnight and we opted for staying in. I picked up a couple of nice KC strip steaks to throw on the grill and we settled in with some cheesy b-rated vampire movies.

"You aren't immortal. It just feels like it because this movie goes on FOREVER."

“You aren’t immortal. It just feels like it because this movie goes on FOREVER.”

And booze. My friend the home brewer sent us home with a bottle of his moscato wine last week and my wife popped the cork on Friday. Apparently he makes it pretty stout because, after two glasses, she was out like a light by 10:30.

We call this foreshadowing

We call this “foreshadowing.”

(I’m going to throw out a “readers discretion advised” warning here. So ladies, if you are squeamish about non-consensual sex topics, you may want to skip the rest of this.)

We often joke about the idea of having sex while she is asleep. Her general attitude has always been, “If you can get it done without waking me, have at it.”

I have never taken her up on this challenge. As you know, I’m working to overcome a severe “Nice Guy” personality. My hesitation is not a moral objection; my fear was based on the idea of her waking up and rejecting me and then I would feel like a complete tool. She says I’m just a pussy.

So here we are. I help her to bed and she is laid out topless in her skimpy underwear and stockings. “If you can get it done without waking me, have at it,” is running through my head. I know she won’t care. As long as she doesn’t get sick, we’ll laugh about it in the morning.

So what the hell, I went for it. It was such an awkward experience that I had to make myself stay with it to completion. She never moved a muscle. I made myself walk away and leave her laying there.

Understand, there is not an ounce of disrespect involved here. My wife is the light of my life. This was just about pushing my comfort zone, knowing that I was well within her comfort zone.

So I turned off the light and went downstairs. An hour later, I came back. Except for pulling the sheet over her, she hadn’t moved. I messed around with her for a few minutes, no reaction. She was out.

What the hell, let’s go for it.

Again, I made myself continue to completion, the whole time waiting for any hint of protest or discomfort. But it never happened. I finished and walked away.

I came to bed at 12:30. I had to push her legs over to her side of the bed and roll her onto her side so I could curl up behind her and tuck her in under the covers. I laid there beside her for about ten minutes and then I got curious. She was still soaking wet. How does that happen? I don’t know, but you know, what the hell.

This time I didn’t finish, just enjoyed her for a while and then curled up and fell asleep.

We woke up on Saturday, and I prepared to tell her about how the rest of the evening went. She beat me to it.
“You had fun last night.”
“Oh really? What do you remember?”
“You fucked me three times.”
“You remember that? How? You were out cold.”
“Nope. I remember all of it.”
“But you just laid there. You never even twitched. How is that possible?”
Shrugs. “I don’t know. Just glad you enjoyed it. I was worried I ruined your evening going to bed so early.”

There is still so much I need to learn about how you crazy women think.

Lessons From Disney World

So, back in March my father in law announced that he wanted to take the whole family to Disney World. Our family, my wife’s sister and her family and my in-laws. Twelve people total. He insisted on paying for the park tickets, rooms, meal plans, etc. which was an awesome offer since it turned out to be about a $10,000 trip.

We left out at midnight on Friday the 23rd and got back the next Sunday. Now that it’s over and we all survived, all I can say is….

Damn you, Mouse. Damn you to hell.

"You didn't enjoy your trip? Well, it's paid in full and non-refundable, so...suck it!!

“You didn’t enjoy your trip? Well, it’s paid in full and non-refundable, so…suck it!!

Actually, it wasn’t that bad. But it was an awesome opportunity to put some of our Big Dick philosophies into practice. So, here’s what I learned.

1. Men have got to take the lead.

I need to explain a bit about our family dynamic. My wife is a stay at home mom. Her sister is a high level civilian employee with the Air Force. Her husband is a really nice guy. You would enjoy having a conversation with him. But the truth is, sister is in charge and it is wearing her out.

This trip was supposed to be her chance to relax. Everything was planned and paid for. The grandparents were there to babysit their two year old. All she was supposed to do was show up and have fun with her kids.

But guess what happened? Disney World is freaking chaotic. It’s non-stop running and on the fly decision making. And all she got from her husband was, “Whatever you want to do dear.” He made it clear from day one that he was there to push the stroller in whatever direction she pointed him.

So, sister-in-law was miserable and stressed the whole time. Brother-in-law just wanted to go home.

How was it on our side? We loved it.

We loved it because we worked together to figure out exactly what we wanted. I made a lot of the tough decisions, especially the ones my wife feared would hurt someone’s feelings and I made sure I was active with the kids every minute of the trip. We split up quite a bit as our 7 year old just wanted to see the princesses and the older two wanted to ride the rides.

The contrast between the involvement of the husbands was so stark that my father-in-law actually brought it up to my wife, expressing how thankful they were that I was participating and enjoying myself.

2. Raising great kids is a long term project.

Every day you watch your children grow. A little at a time. They develop so slowly you almost don’t notice. That applies to their emotional development as well as their physical growth.

We are raising our kids in a very rural area; sandwiched between two small towns with a total population of less than 500. To put this in perspective, each day a single Disney World theme park has nearly 40,000 visitors,  four times more people than our entire county.

This is not an environment that our kids are used to. We took an 11 year old, 9 year old and a 7 year old and threw them in the middle of a small city for 12 to 15 hours a day. Oh, and it was 95 degree heat and about 10 miles of walking each day.

And they were awesome.

They listened, they cooperated, and the whining and complaining was kept to a bare minimum the whole time. We never had to worry about where they were. They didn’t get overwhelmed by the crowds. They just followed the rules and had a great time.

Then they endured a 21 hour car ride home without a single complaint.

That doesn’t happen overnight. They endured a 10 day trip with 42 hours of driving and they did it with great flexibility and an upbeat attitude the whole time. It was a natural reaction for them. We’ve tried our damndest to raise them with those qualities and they proved themselves to be amazing kids.

3. Find time for sex when you can and accept when you can’t.

Never had sex in a hotel bathroom before.

It was somewhere between




this. Much closer to this.

this. Much closer to this.

“Kids, turn the TV on… Louder.”

“Honey, turn on the hair dryer while I get naked.”

And try to get done before the hair dryer causes heat exhaustion.

That was Saturday, on the drive down. The rest of the week, we were sharing a two room suite with three kids and mother in law. Sex wasn’t even a consideration and that’s okay. We were focused on other enjoyable opportunities for our family and marked “hotel bathroom sex” off our bucket list.

4. You appreciate things more when you are personally invested in them.

This was one of my few struggles on this trip. Father-in-law wanted to pay for everything. Again, a wonderful gesture, but I’m a strong proponent of the idea that people have a hard time really appreciating things that are completely free.

The whole family wanted to drive together, mainly so father-in-law could control paying for all the gas and hotel rooms. I don’t mean that in a negative way, but it was true. We didn’t like the travel schedule they wanted to keep, so we chose to go our own way (an example of stepping up and making a tough decision). We paid our own expenses, which ended up being around $700.

Sister’s family did not. They allowed the parents to pay for everything including every purchase at the parks. Father-in-law purchased the photo package where the park photographers take pictures for you and they are all saved to a website for you. It was a neat deal, done mostly for sister in law since my wife takes a thousand pictures anyway.

We downloaded the pictures and realized we had taken over 250 and sister had taken around 75. Father-in-law was not real happy that they hadn’t utilized something that he paid good money for.

Please understand, this is not a “we’re better than they are” post. It’s an exploration into how different mind sets can yield predictable results. Sister got an all expenses paid trip to Disney World and just wanted it to be over. We accepted the prepaid portion, paid our own way for the rest and had an awesome time.

This is not just a correlation issue, this is a causation issue.The structure of our two families is drastically different and it was very evident on this trip, almost painfully so.

The concepts we discuss here at the Big Dick Chronicles work. We are working hard to develop a healthy productive way to live our lives and it seems to be working.

5. Belle at the Akershus Restaurant has a voice that could make a man do some bad things.

Meet Belle



This young lass is not bad looking; I certainly wouldn’t kick her out of bed for eating crackers, but that’s not the point. This woman had a voice. As the good daddy, I was holding all the autograph books when we stepped up to take our picture with her.

So I chatted with her for a minute while she signed the books. I’m pretty sure all she actually said to me was, “Oh, so you’re in charge of the autograph books, eh?”

But what I heard was, “You sexy stud. Responsible fathers get me hot.”

Hey, it could happen.

Afterwards, I immediately told my wife that Belle was my version of her infatuation with Sean Connery’s voice. I enjoy telling that story because I enjoy seeing my wife’s cheesy grin every time I admit that I’d gladly push an old woman in front of a Disney  World bus if that woman asked me to.

Women, work on your sexy voice. When you get it right, you’re damn near irresistible.

I hope you all enjoy your summer. We managed to get ours off to a great start. The rest of the summer will be focused on naked pool time.

Greetings from us. And Bill Fuckin’ Murray.

It’s Valentines Day! Let’s Hear Some Horror Stories!

Ah, February 14, the day when you get the opportunity to go buy flowers and candy for your wife and pair them with a card someone else wrote that expresses your undying devotion and love.

None of these things actually include the word “sex”, but it’s all done with one very understood, if not spoken, intention; you wanna get laid. So how did that work out for ya?

It probably looked something like this.

It probably looked something like this.

A joint survey by Men’s Health and Women’s Health found that 50% of men expected to have sex tonight. By contrast, only 43% of women expected to have sex because it’s Valentine’s Day. As my wife pointed out, it doesn’t really specify if they meant 43% were looking forward to it, or that 43% felt pressured to have sex.

Our Valentine’s Day plans consist of catching up on 13 episodes of NCIS. No chance for a babysitter left us with very little motivation to make this anything more than a typical Friday night. We agreed ahead of time to no gifts. So, I now have plenty of time to put together my “best of” post for Valentine’s Day Horror Stories.

Seriously, this is what we all want to read about, right? We’re all veteran’s at the marriage game. We roll our eyes at the exuberance of young love, telling their tales of over the top romantic gestures. We want the carnage!

So let the games begin. Here are a few of the choice morsels of Valentine woe that I uncovered today.

Via http://www.dailydot.com/lol/reddit-valentines-day-horror-stories/ we have this gem;
“So here I am, a 20 year old socially awkward swede with barely any experience with girls. However, for some strange reason yesterday (13th) I grew the balls to ask a girl out for valentines. Not only did she say yes, she ended up going home with me and spent the night. This is where the story begins. … See, some of you redditors believe you are socially awkward, allow me to laugh. The first time I share my bed with a girl, I end up dreaming about going to the bathroom to pee. “Whats this warm sensation?” I ask myself. “My waist is so warm!” Suddenly wake up from girl shouting and yelling.
…Oh god, I had PEED MY FUCKING BED. IM TWENTY YEARS OLD AND I JUST WET MY BED. Please allow me to die.

Or, he could just send her a card....

Or, he could just send her a card….

There were several great entries at worstvalentinesdaycontest.tumblr.com like this one;
“Last year for valentines day I had planned on proposing to my girlfriend at the time. She was a cheerleader at Kennesaw State. I had planned to propose to her at one of her cheerleading events in front of her friends & a stadium full of people. I had arranged to wear the mascot uniform & propose to her. Well I of course had to let 2 of the other cheerleaders know & the coach so to make sure it was ok & so they could help me set it up well one of the cheerleaders thought it would be ok to tell somebody else then they went & told another person & she overheard them talking about it. Therefore she knew & on February the 13th she broke up with me & I spent valentines day by myself.”

dumped ecard
And this guy:
“Last year ws the worst valentines day ever. i go to school in iowa, and my ex girlfriend went to school in illinois. we were only a 4 hour bus ride apart. i told her i wouldnt be ale to come home for a date on valentines day bc i had a test that day. she ment absolutly everything to me, so i decided to skip my test and go home to surprise her with a nice date. i got in contact with her roomate when i got to her school and called her roomate. her roomate was headed home that night, so she gave me her keys so i could go into their room and surprise my ex. that night i opened to door to what i though would be my ex girlfriend watching tv and doing homework, what i actualy saw was horrible. she was naked in bed with some guy who was not me! a nice glass vase with 2 dozen roses shattered on her floor while she tried to tell me she was sorry, and she didnt want me to find out about this.

i hate the valentines day and everything it stands for. it breaks my heart just thinking about how i had my heart broken and looked like the biggest idiot in the world just trying to be a good boyfriend.”

This one is a bit long, but worth the read;
” My buddy and his girlfriend decided to invite me to take her roommate out on a blind date for Valentine’s Day a few years ago. I jumped at the opportunity, as all my college buddies were going out and I didn’t want to be by myself. It was about an hour drive from where I lived, so I packed a bag just in case. I showed up to pick her up for dinner, she looked great, and I was excited for the date. We went to Flattop Grill for some stir fry dinner, which was decorated for the occasion and a nice place to enjoy good conversation and a hearty meal. Things were going great, and towards the end of the meal she invited me back to her place for a few drinks.
We got in the car on the way home and the conversation continued to go well for a few minutes and then got silent. She got a strange look on her face and began to fidget in her seat as the ride continued. About 10 minutes from her apartment things took a turn for the worse. A horrible smell filled my car, and I thought I may have hit a skunk or another animal that had been dead for weeks. The smell continued to get worse, to the point where I thought I was going to gag and I looked over at my date to see if she was showing signs of smelling the same thing. I asked her if she smelled that and she quickly said no as if she did really smell it but was afraid to say so. I told her I was going to pull over to see if I had hit something and she quickly told me not to because I could check at her apartment. We got to her place and she quickly ran inside before I could say anything. I checked under the car for any signs of rotting flesh, and as I was about to write the incident off to bad luck and move until I looked at the passenger seat. There in the middle of the seat was a large brown stain, and reality began to set it. My blind date had taken a full on dump in my car and not said anything to me. The car stunk for weeks and I had to have the seats cleaned 3 times before the smell finally faded. I still have the smell in my nose to this day.
Oh and I forgot to mention that the car stunk so bad I didn’t want to drive home, so I crashed on the couch at her apartment. It would have been fine but for the fact that my buddy and her roommate came home and I got to listen to them having sex all night. Combine nasty dirty sex sounds, with the sound of a snowplow going by every hour or so, and the stench of rotting butthole in your nose, and you officially have the worst Valentine’s Day ever.

I never talked to her again.”

I think he's being a bit harsh. We've all been there, am I right? Right?

I think he’s being a bit harsh. We’ve all been there, am I right? Right?

This one is a bit painful, but we don’t shy away from the hard topics;

” You wanted to hear the worst Valetine storys ever I have one for you! 6 years ago I got up early really early about 5 am went to the wally world and purchased a nice vase and a dozen roses, some candy, valetine cookies and a really nice card for my wife. I got home wrote her a wonderfull love you note in the card and placed it all on the kitchen table which was by the exit door to our house so she wouldnt miss it. I then rejoined her in bed. She got up for work looked at the stuff and left leaving me in bed without even coming back to say thank you, I love you or anything. I called her at work a couple time that day expecting her to say something but she never did. That day I prepared a wonderfull dinner and got some wine for us to have over candle light. When she got home we began to eat dinner and she had still said nothing. Halway through dinner she let me know she didnt love me anymore and didnt know if she was going to stay or not. We had been married 5 years! Well needless to say things were wierd for a couple of weeks I could sense she was leaving. I asked her to do me one and only one favor which was to let me know b/c I didnt want to come home from work one night and all of the stuff just be gone. She promised she would never do that to me. on feb 28th I came home from work at midnight and half my stuff was gone I had a note on the table. I woke up the next morning my cell phone stopped working, the house phone stopped working about 15 min later, and the cable went out within the next hour. The only thing in my name was the electric she couldnt shut that off. She had pre planned everything. we were divorced within 2 months and within 30 days of the divorce she was remarried. All true! It about killed me for close to 2 years. Now I am happily remarried to a different woman of course and never have I been happier! It all worked out in the end but it did almost kill me. Hows that for a valantine story?”

Most of these are men’s stories, because this is a site for men. But here is one from a women’s perspective just to demonstrate how completely unattractive a wimpy beta guy can be;
” Yeah, so… I was dating this guy some years back. We met on Thanksgiving, so by February had been dating a few months. He was cool to hang out with and I had a good time with him, but I was at the point of wondering if I wanted to even continue. Valentine’s Day rolls around, and he came to stay with me for the weekend. When I opened the door upon his arrival, he was damn near giddy. He told me to go into my bedroom, close the door and stay there until he said I could come out. I sat behind closed door listening to crinkling paper and things rustling around, the front door opening and closing couple of times, and then finally he came to get me.
When I walked out to the living room, it looked like a bottle giant bottle of Pepto exploded in my living room. There was pink and red stuff EVERYWHERE. Did I mention yet that I loathe the color pink? Anyway, candy, bears, hearts, flowers, trinkets, all of it… scattered across the front room of my place. He proceeds to go to mushy on me, telling me how I rescued him from the pit of his depression and brought him alive again, blah blah blah. After a sufficient amount of fussing over me, I said sheepishly… “I have something for you, too.” He lit up in a big grin, and I knew I was in trouble as a retrieved the paperback book titled “How to Be Southern” that I’d gotten for him. I handed it to him unwrapped and (I think) managed to say something graceful like, “Well if I’d known you were going to do all this…”
The Valentine’s Day ordeal was enough to guilt me into staying with him another couple of months, and in the end he broke up with me. I should’ve known better than to date a Yankee.
Disclaimer: No Yankees were harmed in the telling of this story.”

So, besides a few laughs, what is the point of this?

The motto of our marriage is this; “The secret to a great marriage is low expectations.”

It sounds a bit jaded, but this is serious. All disappointment is the result of unrealistic expectations. Let me state that another way; when your expectations are not in line with reality, you will be disappointed.
Keep in mind, it doesn’t matter if your expectations should have been considered realistic. For instance, if you expected the Broncos to win the Super Bowl, it would have been a perfectly reasonable expectation. But you would have been wrong and you would have been disappointed.
By contrast, a Seahawks fan had no reasonable expectation that they would win. So, had Denver won, a Seahhawks fan may not have been happy, but they would not be disappointed; they weren’t expecting to win.

Managing expectations is at the heart of maintaining healthy relationships. One of the pitfalls of Nice Guys is that they are filled with unspoken expectations. Not wanting to appear selfish, they stay silent; secretly hoping the other person will understand them enough to be able to meet their needs without having to voice them.

The secret to a successful Valentines Day is properly managed, low expectations. Be reasonable in what you are expecting out of your spouse. State your expectations up front and don’t be offended if your expectations don’t match up with reality. In a healthy relationship, this is just another day.

Coming To Terms With Temptation

If you will indulge me a bit of self reflection…..

When it comes to the opposite sex, what is your greatest weakness?
Mine is very simple; I desperately want to be noticed.
Wait, check that. I used to desperately want to be noticed.

I’ve explained before the betrayal I felt when I finally realized that being a Nice Guy was not my greatest strength. It was, in fact, my greatest fault and the source of most of my misery in life.

One specific element of this dysfunction was my belief that it was inappropriate to try to draw attention to my self. I shouldn’t brag, I shouldn’t boast, I shouldn’t dress well or try to sell myself. I was supposed to just sit back and wait for someone to notice what an awesome guy I was.

Well guys, I’ll tell you, that didn’t work too well. I can count on one hand the number of women who ever expressed any physical attraction to me.

I don't understand it, women should have been lining up to throw themselves at me.

I don’t understand it, women should have been lining up to throw themselves at me.

So, make sure you’ve got a clear picture. A young guy who is convinced that he is supposed to wait for the world to tell him how wonderful he is, (his own opinion doesn’t matter) and then no one does.

It leaves you pretty hungry.

My amazing wife comes along and gives me that affirmation I needed. It helped a lot.
But then I killed that attraction with my Nice Guy routine.

Just two years in and she doesn’t look at me the same as she used to. Of course, I had no understanding at the time that this was my own fault.

Guess what happens next?

It happened around the second year of our marriage. I was 24. My wife was working hard to finish college. She was pregnant, and I was working two jobs. One of my jobs was at a video store. I had a co-worker named Erin who turned out to be quite the little succubus. She was petite, cute enough, but very outgoing. She was also married to a pretty good guy named Jim.

Erin had a habit of getting a bit to close when we were standing around the store. One night, when my wife was staying late working on a senior project, I grabbed a couple of pizzas and went to hand out with my buddies at the video store. As we were standing around the counter, eating and watching a movie on the tv, Erin walked up and stood beside me.

Not just a little beside me, right beside me. So close our legs were touching, right beside me. She didn’t move and I didn’t either. We carried on a brief conversation this way and after a minute or two, one of us moved. It never really escalated beyond that, but from that point on, the tension was there.

I have to admit, she occupied my thoughts for a time. She gave the impression that she wasn’t too terribly concerned with those marriage vows and I had too much time to ponder that.

So what did I do?

Thankfully I chickened out. I went to a very close friend of mine and told him what I was dealing with. I asked him to hold me accountable. We talked it over and I gave him permission to ask me at any time if it continued to be a problem. Simply having that discussion opened my eyes to the fact that this wasn’t what I wanted.

As far as “close encounters” go, I admit this is a pretty lame story, but it exposed a huge weakness in my character. I grew up in church. I was a virgin through high school and I always assumed that my chastity was due to my high moral virtue. In reality, it was simply a lack of opportunity.

The first time someone other than my wife showed me attention, I almost caved. I wasn’t really the man I thought I was. Even worse, I wasn’t the man I wanted my wife to believe I was.

Why am I telling you this?

One of the necessary outcomes of my relentless pursuit of Big Dick awesomeness is increased attention from other women.

Part of being attractive to my wife is her knowledge that other women want what she has. If she were the only one who expressed interest in me, there would come a point where she might begin to question her own judgment. When she sees other women admiring me, it confirms her feelings about me and affirms her good decision in choosing me as a mate.

You can see my dilemma.

Even though my wife is my sole target audience, the reaction of other women is a good measure of how successful my efforts are. It puts me in a situation where I need to be conscious of the reaction of other women while at the same time knowing deep down that this is one of my greatest areas of weakness.

So, what is the solution? How do I stay conscious of the responses of other women without feeling any urge to pursue them?

Thankfully, having a Big Dick is about more than just how you look.

In the past, my total lack of self confidence made me susceptible to the bad intentions of others. I was still looking for my validation to come from someone outside of myself.

Where am I now? Well, if you’ve read any of my other posts, I’m not here asking you to tell me how awesome I am. I tell you. (Just a tad bit of narcissism thrown in so you won’t be tempted to think too highly of me.)

When the sales clerk at the store tries to flirt with me, she is just reflecting back what I already know to be true. I am a worthwhile guy. Yes, she would be lucky to have me, but she can’t.

But it isn’t just the other women. I don’t have to ask my wife to be attracted to me anymore. Hell, sometimes I dare her not to. (She snorted with laughter when I read that to her, but she didn’t deny it)

I’m not sure I can describe to you how liberating it is that I no longer need other women to show interest in me. Now it’s just a measuring stick, it isn’t the prize. The prize is to be the man that my wife willingly throws herself to her knees for.

I don’t think that’s ever actually happened, but I’m getting there.


Just to add some context to the story, I’ve added some pics of my wonderful wife and I.
Here we are 14 years ago, age 22 and 20. Don’t I look like every geeky nice guy you’ve ever met?

I know. I look 14 instead of 22. I was still a full year away from puberty.

I know. I look 14 instead of 22. I was still a full year away from puberty.

And here we are now.

Sorry ladies, I'm taken.

Sorry ladies, I’m taken.

Married Men…Doing the Dishes Won’t Get You Laid

One day when I was in high school, I listened to a conversation my basketball coach and my father were having. My coach was talking about the number of parents who came to him and complained that their kid didn’t get to play enough.

Over and over again, he got the question “Why can’t you just give them a chance?” His answer was always the same;

“I see your kid every day in practice. He can’t hit a shot in practice, he won’t hit it during the game. He doesn’t hustle on defense, he won’t hustle during the game.”

It all came down to- “You play like you practice”.

In the first year of our marriage, sex was very infrequent. There were lots of factors at play; different schedules, my wife still finishing college, the stress of being independent from her parents, etc.

But the single biggest reason was me.

Because we were infrequent, when we finally did have sex, I didn’t last very long. This of course was unsatisfying for both of us. I felt cheated out of my once a month sex and my wife was left wondering why she even bothered. In a particularly weak attempt to defend myself, I told her, “You know, if we did this more often I would last longer.”


I was, in essence, pleading “Put me in coach!” If you would put me the in the game more often, I would perform better. I’m not getting enough game time and that’s why I’m shooting air balls and double dribbling.

But in reality, I was playing like I practiced.

I’m secure enough now to acknowledge that I was a horrible lover to my wife at that time. I don’t just mean in the bedroom. My day to day “practice” sessions were just bad. I didn’t know how to read her. I didn’t know how to approach her. I tried to convince her that I would be a stud for her in bed, but there was nothing studly about my day to day actions.

She watched me practice all day long and it wasn’t pretty. Then at bed time, I would try to convince her that I was capable of so much more than I had been showing her.

She didn’t buy it.

Gentleman, listen up. If you aren’t getting laid, it’s because you suck in practice. Plain and simple. If I may be so bold, let me offer a few suggestions that you need to put into practice immediately.

1. Stop doing things for sex.
If I hear one more married woman complain that she might be in the mood for sex if her husband would help with the dishes, there’s gonna be a beatin’.

Let’s be very clear about this, yes, relieving stress may help a woman be more relaxed to enjoy sex, but it absolutely does not increase her attraction to you and that has to come first.

For example. Wife is in the kitchen putting away groceries and you take the opportunity to walk up and nuzzle her neck. You get that snarky, “I might think about it if I wasn’t stuck in the kitchen for four hours a night!” response to your touch.

That sounds like an invitation right? You help her in the kitchen and she’ll put out tonight. So you jump in. Or, perhaps you’ve been here before so you are prepared. You get there before she even asks. You’ve got the car unloaded and put away before she can even get the key out of the ignition. You are absolutely getting in the game tonight. Right?

You dumb bastard.

We both know how this ends. You help with the chores and bedtime rolls around and you get the, “You never do anything to help me unless you think it’s gonna get you laid.”

What just happened here?

It’s simple: putting away groceries isn’t sexy. Bathing the kids isn’t sexy. Helping with the cooking; not sexy. Doing the laundry; not sexy. These things are never going to make your wife crave your dick. Never.

She doesn’t appreciate your help because you have an ulterior motive. You feel cheated because she didn’t follow through. She feels justified in telling you no and your only recourse is to try harder next time, or stop. Of course, this just leads back to the start of the cycle where she says you aren’t getting sex because she’s too tired. Rinse and repeat.

How about this: Do these things because you should. Help out when needed because it is the right thing to do. Or, don’t, if you wife is just being lazy or is an entitled princess type who just wants to be catered to.

Break the connection between sex and chores. Hell, break the connection between sex and any activity that you do with the expectation that sex will be your reward or payment.

Your wife will have sex with you when she is attracted to you. Which leads us to exercise number two-

2. Touch your wife. Often. With no expectation of sex.
Have you ever heard this one? “I don’t kiss you back because every time I do, you think it’s going to lead to sex.”

Let’s track this vicious cycle: You go for the passionate kiss, she responds. You escalate. If she knows this is coming, it changes to: You go for the kiss, she pulls away. Then the only time she does respond is when she wants to escalate. So the feedback you get is, “If she responds, we’re on for sex”. You think it’s going to lead for sex because that is the response she has trained you to expect.

Let’s reset the dynamic. Touch her, kiss her, nuzzle her neck. Then walk away. Even if she responds, do not escalate. If she asks why you did that, keep it simple. “Because you’re hot.” “I appreciate a nice ass” “Because I can”.

This does a couple of things. It gets both of you comfortable with touch for touch’s sake. No ulterior motives. She can feel secure in responding to you without having to worry about saying no to sex.

But at the same time, it keeps that physical aspect of your relationship near the surface. You are building responsive desire throughout the day. You are setting a mood for her to be attracted to you. BUT! It isn’t designed to lead to sex.

I love fondling my wife. I can make due with less sex as long as I’ve got access to her body. If I can walk up and stick my hand up her shirt and get a nice long kiss, that will tide me over for longer than you would expect. We’re building a sexual relationship, not just a relationship with sex.

Speaking of sex-

3. When you initiate, don’t stop until she stops you.
This can be a bit tricky to decipher. You approach and get the “Really? Tonight?” type response. If you are a Nice Guy, you stop right there. God forbid you press on and feel like a jerk for not respecting her boundaries.

But here is the reality; this actually means “spend 10 more minutes on the tits and try again.” Your wife is designed to respond to you. If you stop now, she hasn’t had a chance to flip the switch. If you keep going, there is a good chance that her body will respond. Then, you’re in like Flynn.

It could also be that she’s messing with you. Maybe she wants you to work for it a bit. Stopping short just proves that you don’t have the cajones to take what you want.

If she isn’t into it, you’ll know it. It will sound like this; “No”.

The following are true stories from our marriage. As you read them, ask yourself, at what point would you have stopped?

Almost time to get the kids from school, we were both home. I start groping at her and kissing on her neck and get token protests, but she doesn’t stop me. I sit her down in the chair, kissing on her. She is thoroughly unimpressed, but doesn’t stop me so I keep going.

Zero response from her, so I pull her up and walk her up the stairs, unbuttoning her pants as we go. I literally push her, heels dug in, to the edge of the bed. Pull her pants down and take her from behind as she stands there bent over the bed completely immobile.

The entire time, the Nice Guy in me is screaming, “This is wrong! You’re being a F@#$ a-hole! She is hating you right now.” But I reminded myself that she would stop me if she really wanted to.

I finish, start getting dressed and ready to go. She cleans up then says she going to take a nap, see you in a little while.

I wanted to so bad to ask her if I had done something wrong, but I controlled myself. I came back with the kids and curled up in bed with her and she nestled into me. Everything was fine.

We talked about it later. Sometimes she enjoys just letting me take her like that. She enjoys the mock pissed off-ness of it. She confirmed that she would not do it if she didn’t want to. She would have been pissed if I had asked her if she was mad at me.

Example 2

I wake my wife up with a kiss and soft caress.

Her: Your breath smells like coffee.
Me: You haven’t brushed your teeth. We’re even.

Her:I have to pee
Me: Is that your new default answer?
Her: Do you want me to back to “I’ve got a headache?”

(She rolls away from me. I start kissing her shoulders and back of her neck. Hands move to her breast.)
Her: So, hows that taste? Tastes like rejection doesn’t it?
Me: Taste just fine. (Keep kissing and squeezing)
Her: Ow, that hurts. (maybe a bit hard on the nipple, maybe not)
(I adjust and start kissing it to make it feel better)
No response from her, just a change in breathing. Good sign, keep going.

Suddenly she rolls over on her belly. I start to pull her pants off. Absolutely no response from her. Pure dead weight.

Her: (as I fumble to get the pants off her feet) I’m impressed by your expertise.
Me: I get the job done.

Pants off, insert fingers. Immediate response from her. No talking.

(after a minute or so of this) Her: I told you I have to pee.
Me: Yeah, but you didn’t.

Another minute later, she jumps up
Her: Okay, I really gotta pee now.

She comes back. We have sex.

If you’re sex life is lacking, it’s time for you to take charge. I challenge you to try implementing these three changes and see what the response is.

If it doesn’t work, it means she isn’t attracted to you. We can talk about that next time.