Him & him · A 7-night journal

Up at 3am googling “is it me?” I was sure he’d stopped wanting my body. Seven nights later, my husband reached for me first.

Eighteen months of “not tonight,” gone in a week. I’m 54, I felt invisible in my own bed, and I was sure it was my dad bod. An aphrodisiac we take together proved me wrong.

Rob K., 54, Kansas City · together 19 years
6 min read

It was 3am on a Tuesday. I was typing “is it me” into my phone while Curtis slept next to me, facing the wall. He'd slept like that for about a year and a half.

I thought I knew why. I’m 54, with a gut and a gray beard (and knees that click on the stairs). I figured my husband had stopped seeing me.

I had it wrong. What was really going on had almost nothing to do with my body. Once we understood it, it took us about a week to fix.

Below: what I found, what didn’t work, and my 7-night journal. And no, it isn’t another pill: I’ve had the blue ones since 50, and they were never the problem.

“Not tonight, babe.”

— Curtis, most nights

Nineteen years, one couch, two blankets

We met at a cookout in 2007 and got married in 2016. For years, all he had to do was look at me across a room and we’d be home in twenty minutes.

Lately we sat on the same couch every night under two blankets, each on his own phone, and “bed?” meant sleep.

I’d reach for him, and he’d say it and squeeze my hand, which was somehow worse. After six months of that I stopped asking, and for a whole year nothing happened.

Ninety percent would have been a good year for us.

So I blamed my body

Of course I did. I’ve been grading my body since I was 17, and that winter the guy in the mirror looked like he’d given up.

So I went down the list.

• The gym. I lost 14 pounds by March, and Curtis said I looked great and went to bed at 9:30.
• Talking about it, again and again, until every talk ended with him “just tired” and me feeling like I’d begged.
• The calendar. He called it “appointment night” until the joke killed it.
• Opening things up, which works great for our friends. I didn’t want other guys, though. I wanted my husband to want me.

For our anniversary we spent $2,100 on four nights in Palm Springs. He was asleep by 9:40 with the TV on, and I sat on the edge of the bed watching the pool lights.

A month later, at a friend’s 50th, Curtis put his arm around me and told the table I was his best friend. Everybody went “aww.” I went to the bathroom and stared at my face, and that night came the 3am search.

What I found at 3am

Reddit, obviously. Forty threads deep on r/AskGaybrosOver30, I found the sentence I’d typed and deleted in my Notes app for months.

By 4:30 I noticed hardly anyone was talking about their body. They were talking about who asks, and about the guy who got tired of asking.

That was me, almost word for word. Maybe it wasn’t my gut.

The real reason he stopped reaching for me

In a long relationship, one person ends up being the one who asks, without anyone deciding it. In our house, it was me.

The other one starts to feel the pressure. Every “not tonight” makes the next ask harder, so the asker asks less, and the one who was waiting to be asked never starts either.

With two men in that loop, there’s no script for who makes the move. We were two guys on a couch, each waiting for the other.

So it wasn’t my body, and it wasn’t my age. Curtis never stopped wanting me. We both stopped starting.

Another thread had a fix I couldn’t stop thinking about. One couple used a bracelet: if it was on, the answer was already yes, so nobody had to ask and nobody got turned down.

One guy described his early days like this:

In our house the ask had gotten too heavy for either of us to pick up. That’s the real reason my husband stopped reaching for me.

And we made it worse by waiting for the mood to fall out of the sky like it did at 35. We were sure planning it meant we were done.

Where we were headed

At sunrise I did the math. If nothing changed, I’d still be lying awake at 60, and “best friend” would stop being a cute line at dinner and start being true.

The Two-Yes Rule

So how do you break a loop where somebody has to go first?

A bracelet still leaves it on one person, who puts it on and waits. Our candle on the nightstand lasted nine days, because lighting it felt exactly like asking.

What we needed was two yeses at the same time: something we both take together that says “I’m in” before anyone opens their mouth. If we’re both saying yes, nobody is asking, and the night starts by itself.

Yes, I’d seen the TikTok cubes

I knew the spicy gummy cubes from TikTok, and every box said “for him and her.” Curtis read one over my shoulder and asked, “So which one of us is her?”

Then our friend Teddy, married to Ray for 11 years, told me they keep a different box in their nightstand. “One each,” he said. “Nobody has to ask anymore.”

It’s made by people who don’t assume every couple is a man and a woman, with one cube each and no subscription. More than 10,000 couples had tried it, so I ordered that afternoon.

They’re called Freaky Cubes

The box is matte, almost black, and nothing about it says sex shop, which helps when it lives on your nightstand.

Inside are chili-coated aphrodisiac gummies, 8 red cubes to a box: 4 nights for two. It’s the bracelet idea, except you eat it and you each get your own.

You take them at the same moment, and you both know the night has started. That’s the Two-Yes Rule in a box.

See the box and what’s in it →

The aphrodisiac that turned my husband into a furnace

The chili hits first, a slow burn on the tongue that makes us both laugh. A few minutes later the warmth is in my chest and the back of my neck.

Then Curtis’s hands find my knee and work their way up under my shirt. He kisses me like he’s been waiting a year, and he doesn’t let go.

And because I took one too, I’m right there with him. Nobody asked, and nobody had to.

In each cube: maca root, horny goat weed (epimedium; yes, Curtis made the joke) and muira puama, three plants used as aphrodisiacs for centuries. Caffeine with L-theanine keeps 10pm from feeling like bedtime, and the chili coating brings the heat.

The aphrodisiac lights him up. The Two-Yes Rule means neither of us has to ask first.

My 7-night journal

My phone notes from that week, barely cleaned up.

1. Night 1 · Saturday

   One cube each at the kitchen counter, like teenagers. The heat hit and we laughed, and thirty minutes later Curtis pulled me into the hallway. We never made it to the bedroom, and I was horny for the first time in months.

2. Night 3 · Monday

   Curtis slid the box across the table before I’d thought of it, a man who hadn’t started anything since 2024.

3. Day 5 · Wednesday

   No cube. He kissed my neck while I made coffee, and I burned the toast.

4. Day 7 · Friday

   He reached for me first. No cube, no box, just his hand on my back at 10pm like month one, and then he was all over me. We both felt about 35.

Thursday’s text:

Eighteen months of “not tonight,” gone in a week, with no prescription. On Friday we didn’t even need a cube: once nobody had to ask, Curtis remembered he wanted to.

His version: the cubes start it, he finishes it. My husband wants me again, and we keep coming back to the box every Saturday.

Try the Two-Yes Rule →

Two months later

Curtis keeps his hand on my knee at dinner with friends now. Last month somebody asked how long we’d been together, and he told the whole table.

“Nineteen years, and he still drives me crazy.”

— Curtis, to a table of eight

Fridays look like this now: a cube each after dinner, and my shirt is on the kitchen floor before the dishes are done. Round two is usually his idea.

We’re going back to Palm Springs in June. I’m still 54 with the same gut, and he hasn’t mentioned it once.

What it costs, and what I’d already spent

Every box is built for two, with two cubes a night and a box nice enough to leave out.

More than 10,000 couples have tried them, and this batch is almost gone. Every week we waited made the next ask heavier.

This isn’t a $9 bag of gas station gummies. Compare it to what I’d already spent: a gym membership and a $2,100 trip where he was asleep by 9:40.

A box is $29.99 for 8 cubes, 4 nights for two. We had one night left by Day 7, so I’d start with 2 Boxes for $44.98 instead of $59.98.

That’s 25% off, or $5.62 a night for both of you. That launch price ends at midnight tonight.

🔥 Launch price ends in tonight · this batch is almost gone

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Or you can do what I did: wait for it to happen on its own, and keep googling at 3am.

I never needed it, but it’s what got me to order.

I thought this was about my waistline. It was about Curtis, and the two guys who used to not make it to the bedroom. I wanted them back.

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Questions we had before ordering

At midnight tonight, two boxes go back to $59.98, and this batch is almost gone.

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