Our DB was entirely his own doing. He mutilated my underwear, stole my lotions and conditioners, even took some of my silk shirts at one point. Then gaslit me about it whenever I would find something, and acted aghast and offended when I didn't feel safe being intimate with him.
Even after the first few rounds of underwear mutilation, I bought really expensive runway collection lingerie and dressed up for him. Made a point to specify that yes, this was for us, but that I expected that he wouldn't touch it if I didn't bring it out. Not that I should have had to say that, but I did, to be safe. Then he proceeded to ruin it, and tried to hide it from me, like I wouldn't notice.
When we did have sex, his ED was so bad it could take hours (yes, hours, I'm not exaggerating) to get anything going. Sometimes I would be able to get his mind off of things enough that he could get back in the swing of it, but often it would only last for a few minutes and he wouldn't finish anyway. Which then led to blue balls, which then led to him complaining about the blue balls the entire next day. Which led to me being hesitant to initiate because if he got hard and then couldn't finish for any reason, it would be all I heard about, how much pain he was in.
I bought a special lubricant, very expensive and something I had to special order off of the internet, because whenever he bought something he would just get cheap crap from lord knows where and it would irritate me. So I did research to find something that would work for me, to make it easier so that we didn't have to spend as much time with foreplay for me because that's when he would lose his hard on. Even after I told him all of that, and again, specified that he not touch it, he used the entire bottle in one session with himself, then tried to play it off like the bottle just "went missing." I found it under his side of the sink.
I was also consistently woken up by him rubbing me all over with his hands, and on several occasions, him *graphic warning* putting his penis between my butt cheeks. *end graphic warning* No consideration for the fact that it was 3am and I had to be up at 6.
He also gaslit me about the amount of sex we were having. To the point where I started marking it in my calendar, because he kept claiming it was much more infrequent than it actually was, and I was tired of being made to feel crazy.
At one point, we were arguing about something completely different and he said "And we haven't had sex in a month!" We had just had sex 2 days prior, and I called him out on it. That's when I realized that he didn't "count" it unless he finished. Which with the ED induced partly by his raging porn addiction, partly by the meth use - was a rarity.
I wonder how that would work if women started using that logic. If no orgasm = didn't have sex, then a lot of us would have MUCH lower numbers than we do.
He was not selfish in the sense that he always tried to make sure I got off when we did have sex - I know my body pretty well and can generally get there if I give my partner the right direction. However, his inability to see past his own dick when it came to basic human decency was the biggest issue.
And yet, after all of that, I did not cheat. Fancy that.
I know for a fact that he used DB as an excuse for everything with the mistress. I didn't talk to him about it, but I didn't have to - I know him well enough to know what bullshit he fed her. I mean before the mistress, when it was "just" the porn/masturbation addiction, he used DB as an excuse for everything - why he was irrationally angry, why he couldn't keep his hands to himself, why he couldn't stop stealing my belongings. But this isn't a chicken or the egg situation, it's really obvious which came first here, and the so-called DB didn't come about until after all of this other behavior.
In the end it was a self fulfilling prophecy, because of course I wasn't going to be interested in sex with him when he acted like that. It's not my job to be a blow up doll for someone who thinks he can fuck away all of his self-loathing.