“Doctor, do you know, sometimes I have to ask myself if I’m raping my husband?” She opened with this sentence before I could explain what the internal examination had revealed.
“Do you remember me, doctor? I came to see you last time to have a repair done.” She continued to bring my attention back to the conversation after seeing my stunned reaction from the first topic.
“Of course, I remember.” I replied that I remembered because I glanced at the old records where I had noted the treatment.
“How could I not remember? You are the one I told that your vagina is normal, it grips well, and in the end, I refused to do the repair.” She smiled and nodded.
“You also said that if it were any smaller, it would be an anus.” She almost said this sentence along with me.
“Yes, I still remember that story.” Come to think of it, I remember because that evening, I wrote her story down as a short story. I always remember everything I write, and I told her, “A wife is not a concubine.”
“I didn’t remember your vagina, don’t be alarmed. There’s no way I could remember it. I only remember the story,” I teased.
“You look much brighter now. Last time, you seemed so troubled. How is your family life now?” I asked.
“It’s good. Our relationship is still good, but we still only see each other once a year as usual.” Oh, right, her husband works abroad and only comes home once a year. I remember.
“Does your husband have someone else?” I started the topic in a way that could immediately connect back to when we met six years ago.
“No, doctor. He says he doesn’t.” She seemed confident.
“How do you know? He’s abroad all the time, and you only see each other once a year.” I was quite mean.
“We trust each other. If I don’t trust him, who should I trust?” Okay, I conceded.
“And when you meet, how many days do you stay together? Don’t you go all out?” I imagined.
“Oh, doctor, it’s not that much. Do you understand? Not in the morning, not at noon, and some nights I’m too tired and just want to rest.” I felt a bit sorry for her.
“And when we do have sex, I have to initiate it. He just lies there.” Oh, probably using the woman on top position. A long time ago, my teacher called this position in Thai “Yaowaman Phlaeng Rit.”
“Once, I asked him if he liked being raped by me.” Wow, talking to her is really fun.
“And what did your boyfriend say?” I asked.
“Not boyfriend, doctor. He’s my husband. We have a child together.”
“Oh, husband then. Sorry, please continue. It’s getting interesting.” I laughed.
“He said, ‘It’s okay, I love this.’” I think her husband really enjoys having sex in this position. The man doesn’t get tired, and the woman reaches climax more easily. Just do it and get it over with.
“And what about you? Are you okay with it?” I cut the mood.
“It’s okay, doctor. I’m used to it. I’ve been with him for over ten years with this lifestyle. I have to manage. Once, I cried, and I cried to make him feel some pain.” I didn’t ask further, but my attentive gaze made her understand to continue.
“I’ve waited a whole year. I have a heart, I have needs, but he is indifferent to these things. I’m sad.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said that love, sometimes just sleeping close, hugging, and kissing makes him very happy. Hearing this made me feel even more guilty.” I smiled in response.
“And when you miss him, how do you handle it?” I pried.
“Nowadays, we video call, doctor. It’s so easy. Father and child talk every day.” Oh right, I forgot.
“As for me, if I have a strong need, I just help myself.” Wow, that’s bold. It’s rare for me to have a chance to talk to a woman about this. Wait, that’s not right.
Let’s try again.
It’s rare for a woman to talk about self-pleasure with me.
“Doctor, does my self-pleasure pose any danger to my body?” She seemed worried.
“Let me ask, when you help yourself, does it feel good?”
“Yes, it does, but I don’t use my fingers inside. I just place my fingers on the groove and rub.” Wow, my imagination is running wild.
“Do you reach a sexual climax?”
“Yes, I do.”
“And does it feel good?”
“It feels great too.”
“And does it relax you?”
“Yes, it makes me tired but very happy.”
It’s like a question-and-answer game, but this is what I really want.
“See, you feel it’s good, happy, and relaxing. This is called good. It doesn’t cause any problems for your body.” I explained.
“That’s good. I’m relieved, doctor. I’ve done it many times and was always worried.”
“Yes, go ahead. Men also help themselves when they can’t find a vagina.” I support self-pleasure as a valuable act.
“Sometimes I secretly think, does my husband have a man?”
“Oh, why did you bring that up?” She abruptly changed the mood.
“Because he’s not interested in these things at all.” She had her own hypothesis.
“And if it’s true, what would you say?” I assessed.
“I don’t know, doctor. We’ve been together for so long, even if we only see each other once a year, I still love him a lot. If one day he wants to try anal, I might agree.”
“Wow, you’re really bold. Do you want to practice first?”
“That’s right, doctor. Can you teach me?”
“Um… please don’t ask. I’m really not good at this.” And we both burst into laughter together.
“Thank you, doctor. Last time I was very troubled, but after you scolded me about the repair, I came to terms with it.” Oh, she likes it rough, needs to be scolded.
“This time, at least I feel relieved about another issue.” She smiled at me.
“What, about practicing anal sex?” I was confused.
“No, doctor. I mean about self-pleasure. Doctor!” Then she slapped my upper arm with a loud smack.
Thanaphan Chuboon’s wife asked what happened to the upper arm.
March 26, 2019, written in the sky, finished in the sky. The captain turned on the seatbelt sign, preparing to land.
“Thai Smile”
Source: Having Sex Once a Year by Asst. Prof. Dr. Thanaphan Chuboon