Failure to launch. Literally.

As I think I mentioned in the last post, I had been locked on and off, though completely chaste, for about six weeks. This was probably the longest time I have ever gone without an orgasm and, though I wish I could tell you this was all at Axel’s direction, it really was just a combination of that, a month in Australia, the holidays and then, the worst of the worst, several days of my mother in law visiting which can put a chill on even the best laid plans to get laid. She’s just a joy. Her visits are always gifts that keep on giving as the week of discussions that follow about various things are again, enough to cool any and all erections.

But, I digress.

Anyway, last weekend the world settled a bit and Axel and I had a great conversation about the fact that he was proud that I had abstained for so long and that he would likely let me come Sunday afternoon provided I “was nice” all weekend and let him have his way – whatever way that was. We had a really nice weekend and on Sunday he was going to be meal prepping for the week and doing a lot in the kitchen that he enjoys and he told me that I should join him right before pulling out the sleepsack, hood and gag that he thought would be the appropriate “uniform” for me while he cooked. The game was set and for the next two hours or so I listened to him cook from my flat position on the big island in the back of the kitchen in the sack and the hood, though no gag because I had a small cough and a bit of congestion happening.  It was so nice and such a zen like experience and then I felt him unzipping the bag and strategically re-zipping it where just my titanium clad dick was on the outside. That went on a bit and I heard some fumbling and then, there it was, the key on the screw, and then the key on my balls, and then the key on the screw, and then the key on my bladder, and then finally, the key found it’s S slot and in two twists I was free (for those who don’t know, the Steelwerks keys are in a S pattern and are tiny keys and tiny screws, escaping is impossible and release requires a bit of patience and good eyesight – neither of which Ax has).

THIS was going to be the climax of all climaxes because it had been so long and, while I was still in the bag, he took the cage off, cleaned me up and bit and started jacking me to a point of pure pleasure, but sexual release was not happening. That said, I have never been a quick ejaculator. Be it years of SSRI’s or just me, I am not one that will orgasm fast and, while this is generally a pleasure for my partners (except that time Thumper yelled “God dammit, come already” as apparently even his ass can get tired) it’s always frustrated me a bit because I knew it meant I would never have a second career in porn. So, Axel backed off, unzipped and unhooded me and let me try to take care of business. I tried and I tried and I thought of every sexy happy thing I could and though I was hard as a rock, the climax was just not happening. I kept going but I was at the point where I was physically exhausted and my legs were cramping like mad (I somehow engage my thigh muscles big time when I ejaculate – which does help explain their size) but it was just not happening. Ax turned on his therapist voice, a voice I tend to hate because it literally is a different voice with a weird soothing Southern accent, and kept telling me I was tired and that this was okay and to go shower, relax and we could try again later. I felt horrible because he didn’t get to come either and I tried to get him to, but being the gentleman dom at that moment, he sent me scurrying upstairs gear in hand to shower.

I was devastated and even though my rational side could explain it all – cold medicine, sore legs from leg day, etc – the failure to perform killed me. The funny thing is it wasn’t erectile dysfunction really because, trust me, that was STILL there, but just the utter and complete prostate betrayal in my mind. I was so ready to trade it in. I showered, put on my comfy flannel pants and came downstairs ready to be locked again and he said no that we would try later and to go do “my things”. As anyone who knows me knows, I do not like or accept failure in myself, so I thought I would make sure it happened and I got into the fridge and took one of the Cialis pills we have that Ax’s docs have given him after his accident and surgeries. I had never taken one before but thought it would be great and surely would solve this issue.

So, I took it and went about the night knowing that thanks to modern medicine I would have a steel erection and life would be good. I WOULD COME and it would be magical. Soon after taking it the penis went into a semi state that was actually quite fun to play with and any trigger of anything would get to full mast at any time. But, about that point I started coughing a bit more, was more sniffly and had the dam flushing and headache the pill causes, and had to decide whether the Advil Cold and Sinus would mix well with the blue pill (yes, technically another drug) and decided to risk it. I wasn’t feeling great but god damm I was going to have sex whether or not it killed me. It was going to be so good and as I took him up to bed later, hand in hand all romantic like for about six steps since I walk faster than him, I still had my mind set on sex and sex I had. The most unromantic, transactional sex ever, but my six weeks was over and, like Thump had always told me, it wasn’t that pleasurable and kinda hurt, but it was done!

I slept, got on a plane, and then crashed and am writing this from the Michigan hotel room where I have quarantined myself because I have the flu. Full on fucking flu. What’s worse, that pill will stay with you about 36 hours, so I spent the day coughing, sniffling, dying all with a magical erection that just would go away and then come back the minute I saw something interesting. It was like 8th grade all over again. All day. But, that finally went away and I am better now and will likely see daylight today.  I had never been so excited to officially get sick because that HAD to explain my performance issue, at least in my mind and that’s all that matter.

Who knows, but the clock was reset…

 

 

 

 

 

 

5 thoughts on “Failure to launch. Literally.”

  1. I, too, engage my thigh muscles as part of the whole “gonna have an orgasm” shtick. Hunh. The things you learn.

    (Not the point of your post, but definitely a little ‘aha’ moment for moi.)

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  2. Glad you are feeling better now. The saying “if you do not use it, you loose it” is apparently true in the case of ejaculation, I heard that once somewhere. So, having difficulties after 6 weeks is normal.

    Being stuck in a hotel room and being ill is the worst, so I am happy you are better now.

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  3. SSRIs, as you know, mess with an erection and/or orgasm for many guys. Oddly ED meds often slow down an orgasm for many guys too. The combination….ugh…I’m there at times and I know it.. Now the trick I’ve found with blue pills, or any of the other varieties, is that if I need to go that route I always pop 2 tylenol at the same time. Still get the sniffles but the headache and flushing seem to not hit.

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  4. Ah failure attitudes, entire TED careers have been launched on this :).

    I can tell you how we handle this around here. Very simply, it’s not failure. It’s an opportunity to tease. When Bear tells me “Come with me, pet”, and that just doesn’t happen – regardless of how close I am, at times – it’s just an opportunity to say “Looks like you weren’t quite ready. Maybe in a little while. You just came, anyway.” That was after 7 weeks. He usually accompanies that with a few strokes, just to get a chance to hear me whimper.

    We’re both in a our mid-to-late 40s and orgasm isn’t a given. For us at least, treating that as “definitely not failure” is the right approach. We had a good time. There were lots of feelings, there was connection, there’s emotion and oxytocin, both of us had lots of attention to our genitals – orgasm is a bonus, not the end-all be-all.

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