An example of why my sex life sucks....

My husband was laying on the couch.  I went over to him straddling his hips as best I could with his somewhat angled position.  "Wanna have sex?"  I asked him, moving my hips over his.  "Eh.  I'm not horny."  I moved down some, grinding my crotch (still clad in pants) on his leg, then his knee, finding just the right spot to put pressure on my clit.  I humped him like a horny dog, while he watched TV, holding his book.  He ignored me.  I leaned down and licked his ear.  He drew away.  I tried again and he drew away further.  The pressure on my clit was nice, as I continued to rub my crotch on his knee.  I tried to kiss his neck and he put his finger in the back of my knee, provoking a very unpleasant tickle response.  I stopped trying to kiss him.  I continued to rub against him, moaning a little.  Finally, I stopped.

"You know, it's only six o'clock," I told him.

He looked at me, confused.  "What?"

"Well, you always complain that I wait until you're too tired and it's too late before I want to have sex.  And it's nowhere near nine!"

He conceded the point.  "Alright, I'll try, I guess," pulling out his limp cock.  I frowned.

He kissed me a little then drew back, "how's my breath?"

I shrugged.  "No better than my own, I'm sure."

"I have to pee," he told me.  I let him up, but he stood nearby still watching the TV.    I reached out and grasped his cock in my hand, stroking it to semi-hardness.  "That should make it difficult, " I smiled.

He went upstairs and returned several minutes later, as I now sat in front of the computer.  "My breath is better now," he said.

"Mine's not."

We kissed some, enjoying each other's mouths for a moment, not particular passionate, but pleasant.  Then someone on TV said something about the "anals of history."  The kiss broke from laughter.  "He DID say anals, right?"

Finally I asked him "Okay, when can we have sex?" 

He shrugged, "we'll make a date."

Of course we didn't.