“This Has Never Happened To Me!”

I’ve never really gotten the whole “this never happens to me” kind of thing that men go through when they can’t get it up. Then again, I’ve never been invested in erections that way. One reason might be because the very first time I tried to have sex, I couldn’t get hard for it. In my defense, to the extent that any defense was needed, I was crippled by the flu, and I was hopped down on NyQuil–the old-fashioned kind, the (as Dennis Leary phrased it) “Don’t Make Any Fucking Plans” kind.

I was with a girl. She was taking care of me, because I was sick. We ended up making out, germs be damned, and suddenly the bases were just flying by. First Base, Second Base, Third Base, then I was diving headfirst into Home.

I lay there for quite a while, with my head on the plate, and was rewarded first with squirming, and eventually with screaming. A bit later, more screaming. Then maybe some more. None of it was the bad kind–it was the enthusiastic, pinnacular kind, and a bit later, I decided that I was ready to lose my virginity. I’d been saving it for somebody special, and this girl was special. I didn’t know if she was The One, but I knew she was special enough that I wouldn’t regret her being my first.

I know… Virgin teenage boys are supposed to be willing to fuck anybody and everybody just to get rid of the scarlet V on their foreheads. But I was different, perhaps more old-fashioned, perhaps just more picky.

I decided that this girl would be the first girl I Went All The Way with… and my penis told me that it didn’t agree. It just wasn’t up for anything at the moment.
It was feeling sleepy.

I remember laughing, because of COURSE that would happen–I was only conscious because of the amazing opportunities that a naked girl was providing, combined with my youth. The amount of NyQuil I’d had would have paralyzed an ox. It wasn’t very surprising that it was paralyzing my cock.

She was cool with it. Even if she’d have otherwise been a bitch about it (and she wouldn’t), she’d already gotten hers several times (5, maybe?). So instead of fucking, we curled up together, and we slept.

Later that night or early morning, THEN we fucked. And it was glorious.
But the overall point was that my very first time out of the gate, my stallion fell asleep on me. And it didn’t fucking matter.

It was the first time my cock wasn’t up to a challenge, and it wasn’t the last. I mean, when I was younger, I half-joked that I could have an arm chopped off, and still be up for sex. Maybe it was a quarter-joke. Sex was and is one of my primary raison d’etres. That didn’t mean that there weren’t times when I was too tired, or too hammered, or too angry, or too whatever else to get hard enough to bang whatever girl I desperately wanted to bang at the time.

Age hasn’t made things easier, either.

The girl I’m with right now, we’ve been dealing with a weeks-long bout of bad timing and exhaustion, where our sex life isn’t where we’d like it to be. Sometimes she’s too tired, sometimes I’m too tired. Sometimes we both are.

The thing of it is, we make do. That’s what adults DO–they make do.

Sometimes she’s like, “Do you mind just lubing up, playing with yourself, and coming in me when you’re ready?”

No, I don’t mind.

Sometimes I’m like, “Do you mind if I just lick you til you come, then I roll over and go to sleep?”

No, she don’t mind.

When you’re young, part of you is still afraid that everything is going to go on your Permanent Record or something. You’re afraid that if you can’t get hard enough (or wet enough) that the person you’re with will laugh at you, and that IF they do, that it’ll matter in the scheme of things. You’re worried that if you don’t have sex right now, you may never have sex again at all!

But that’s all bullshit.

Sex isn’t all about Penis In Vagina penetration. Sex isn’t all about being hard, or wet. Sex is about two (or more) people physically bonding with and pleasuring one another, and it comes (so to speak) in many forms, most of which don’t require a stiff cock.

So my masculinity and my sexual identity isn’t tied up (so to speak) in my always having a stiff cock every time. That’s not the only tool in my toolbox. I know that I can orgasm when I’m not hard, and I know that I can make my partner orgasm when I’m not hard.

So I’ve never really understood the “this never happens to me” bullshit that guys seem to say. Maybe it hasn’t happened to you, but it WILL happen to you, and it doesn’t matter much what happens to you, as long as you make it happen for her, and as long as you both leave the encounter satisfied.

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