Shower Sex With a Virtual Stranger Healed Me After My Sexless Marriage

Chapter 2 of my memoir: "Sex-Starved."

Some of you know I’m working on a memoir entitled, Sex-Starved: The Story of My Sexual Journey After My Divorce.

Here’s the synopsis:

When a sex-starved Emme Witt starts dating after her sexless marriage, she satiates herself through sex with various men. She is fingered in a park, has delicious shower sex with a man she's just met, hooks up with an erotic photographer, and enjoys a cannabis-fueled adventure with another man. But every experience Witt has isn't amazing. She is slut-shamed by one man she sleeps with and is rejected by another. She struggles with selfish lovers and her own desperate loneliness. But even with the "bad" experiences, she is able to find herself again after her long, unhappy marriage. This is the story of one woman's sexual reawakening after motherhood and divorce. Witt's post-divorce sexual journey demonstrates that sexual healing really is a thing.

This is a work-in-progress.

Some of the chapters in Sex-Starved you will recognize from Medium essays I’ve written. I’m reworking some of these essays into sequential form and then publishing them up on Wattpad.

I thought about publishing these essays as a series on Amazon, but I’m not quite ready at this point. I’m still fleshing out the story and luckily, Wattpad allows me to edit after publishing.

I feel that even once I get all the chapters together, I’ll still be editing. Writing books is so different than publishing essays on Medium. So this is a work-in-progress, but I’m really enjoying it.

That said, I am publishing some chapters on Wattpad that haven’t yet been published on Medium. Chapter 2 of my memoir is something you won’t read anywhere else on the Internet except on Wattpad.

And, well, now here…

Here’s chapter 2 of my memoir. It’s called: Shower Sex With a Virtual Stranger Healed Me After My Sexless Marriage.

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We-Vibe Toys

If Finn reintroduced me to dating (and sexual touch) after my divorce, it still took a while before I felt comfortable enough to venture back out to meet another man.

I was still afraid of disappointment.

I was still afraid of myself.

When I looked in the mirror I didn't recognize the person staring back at me. Who had I become? It felt like yesterday I was a young woman with my whole life ahead of me.

I had become a middle-aged woman overnight. 

I was forty years old, a mom, divorced.

Alone.

Would I ever find a man to love me again? Could I even attract a new lover in my state?

Sure, Finn and I had fooled around in the park—but could I find a new man to actually love me? 

I had the body of a woman who had given birth to two babies. My breasts were hardly as perky as they'd once been. I had cellulite on my thighs and more than one wrinkle on my face. 

But it wasn't just my physical attributes that made me look worn out. 

It was as if I'd been sleepwalking through life for years. My essence was depleted. While I was married, my entire existence had been focused on my husband and children. Maybe that had something to do with why my libido had taken such a nosedive. 

Maybe it was my fault that my husband and I stopped having sex. After the birth of our second son, my sex drive disappeared. 

I'd tried to regain interest in sex. By the time I did, my relationship with my husband had already crumbled. 

That just made me feel uglier, used up — undesirable. And now I was supposed to "get out there" to meet men...? 

I couldn't. 

Sure, Finn and I had a hot sexual experience in a park at noon. But date for real?

No.

I was terrified of rejection. But I also couldn't deny that I desperately wanted intimacy. 

Sexual intimacy. 

While sweeping the floor of my house, I'd catch myself imagining the broom handle as a dick in my hands.

When I washed the dishes, I felt the slippery-smooth feel of a lover's skin against my fingertips.

When I unloaded the freshly dried clothing from the dryer, I felt the heat of his touch.

But I didn't have a lover.

And then I did.

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One morning, I matched with a man named Kent. We texted over the next couple of days. He asked me to meet him. As much as I wanted sex, though, I just couldn't go through with an in-person date. 

I kept telling Kent I was busy. He was persistent. I finally agreed to meet him, but not formally.

I often did yoga in the mornings. I asked if he wanted to go with me.

He said yes.

We met at the studio. I thought we'd do the class together and leave it at that. Just as with Finn, though, I was pleasantly surprised by how good-looking Kent was. 

He was six-foot tall and had wavy, silver hair. He wasn't "old"— just forty-two. His hair was prematurely graying. 

He had bright blue, mischievous eyes and rode a motorcycle. I felt instantly attracted to his manliness.

But was he attracted to me? I felt like a hag.

The class started and we began to stretch. I couldn't help but sneak glances at Kent as we contorted our bodies into different positions. 

Every time I looked at him, he was looking at me, too. I felt a charge of electricity when our eyes met. 

I hoped he thought I was at least a little attractive. He was gorgeous. 

But part of me was still so nervous. 

The class ended and we were both sweaty from stretching so much. Kent asked if he could make me lunch at his place. He lived nearby. 

I wanted to go home to take a shower first, but I was also hungry.

Hungry for Kent.

"You can shower at my place," he offered. When we got to his apartment, he directed me to the bathroom. I thought he was going to leave me there alone. 

He didn't. He kissed me.

Was I ready for this? The walls of his bathroom were painted yellow, and the tiling was yellow as well. Being kissed there by him made me feel like I was immersed in sunshine.

I was ready for him to leave me to shower when he surprised me by not leaving the bathroom. 

"I want to bathe you," he said. My heart melted.

And my pussy rushed with wetness. 

He turned on the shower and the room began to steam as I undressed. He remained clothed, gesturing for me to step under the hot stream of water. 

I wasn't ready for this and I was ready for it. 

I was confused, hesitant, but so turned on. 

As I let the water run over my body, he poured shower gel into the palm of his hand. As he lathered up my back and shoulders, I tried to remember the last time someone had bathed me like this. 

When had anyone done anything this nice for me?

Sure, Finn bought me a smoothie during our sexy park adventure. But this man was washing me by hand. 

My ex-husband had never bathed me while we were married. I was the one who had done everything for my family. 

I did the heavy lifting while my husband and sons relaxed. Now that I was divorced, I didn't have to care for my husband anymore. Still, I was so busy taking care of my kids. 

As a single mom, in so many ways, my life was much more difficult now. But this man was treating me like I was some kind of treasure. And I hardly knew him! 

I felt a renewed trust in humanity. Kent was doing more than bathing me. He was healing my spirit. 

As the water flowed over my body, the act of rinsing took on religious meaning. I wasn't just cleansing my body, ridding my form of sweat and odor. I was freeing myself of everything unclean. 

All of my unhappiness, my anxiety, and my disappointment washed down the drain with the rest of the suds. All thanks to Kent. 

He moved his hands to my breasts, then washed between my legs. I writhed in ecstasy. Finally, he undressed and got into the shower with me. We embraced under the shower stream. 

His cock pressed hard against my belly. I knew I needed him inside me.

I lifted my leg and put my foot against the wall. With my thighs spread open, I begged Kent to penetrate me. I was so aroused by him bathing me that he slid right in. 

It seemed impossible that I had ever lost my libido. With each thrust of his cock, he pushed life back into my body. I realized to what extent I'd been slowly dying in my marriage. 

This was my revival.

This was my rebirth.

Through sex, Kent was giving an electric shock to my system. He jolted me out of my suffocated state.

I wasn't just awake again, I was alive. I inhaled and exhaled pleasure. 

Kent was virtually a stranger and still, he made me feel better than any antidepressant or therapist. He alone was the antidote to my sadness, the salve for my despair. 

After the shower, Kent toweled off, then held up another towel to receive me. He dried me off like I was a child. 

He spoiled me. But more than that, he made me feel ready to start my dating journey in earnest.

I was ready—ready for my next fuck. 

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