Now that I’m feeling better I’m thinking about dating again. Truth be told, I go out a lot. I just don’t consider a coffee/drink or even dinner “dating”. I think of it as a “meeting”. I think of dating as two people who are interested in each other and are seeing each other on a regular basis with the goal being a sexual relationship. That’s just my take.
I’ve been thinking more about the sexual relationship part lately. Sure, I want to like the guy. I want to be attracted to them and all that but maybe I shouldn’t be SO picky. Maybe I could have another glass of wine and just go back to their place. Let’s say I do, do I need to explain my situation? (In case you haven’t been reading my other blog posts I’m referring to an out of practice, tight, possibly rusty, and tiny, menopausal vagina) How do I explain my predicament? Do I have to or do I just act like everything is normal and I’ve never had an issue before? And then I just spring it on them when the underpants come off. Just like nearly all of the men I have dated with sexual issues and limitations. Take for instance the ones with Erectile Dysfunction. They know they have a problem but they don’t say a word. When it’s show time the curtain never goes up. It becomes an Olympian feat to try to get a rise out of these poor men. It behooves me why they just don’t pop a Viagra.
Or what about the men with Premature Ejaculation (I refer to them fondly as “Minute Men”). With a Minute Man the show is over before you take a seat. And then there’s a somewhat (but not as small as you might think) group of guys out there with the dreaded micro penis. They too never drop you a hint either. They never indicate that there’s anything is wrong. And when the boxers come off it’s like an Easter Egg hunt — in the dark. And you can’t find the golden egg. (Yes, that really happened to me and it was very confusing. And upsetting. Especially when I did find the little nub, it was so small it resembled a cross between a doorbell and an acorn more than a penis). I don’t want to be those guys.
Perhaps I should be more like the man I had a second date with a few years back. He was a seemingly lovely man, attractive, successful, and age appropriate. Between our first and second course at a lovely romantic restaurant he shared with me his struggle with prostate cancer. Naturally, I was very understanding and sympathetic. I even held his hand (and I’m not a hand holder) because I thought we were really connecting. He shared a lot,
“After surgery you can’t have sex for six months. No masturbation. Nothing. When the doctor said I could finally make love to my wife I was so happy. When we tried nothing happened. I went back to the doctor and got a prescription for Viagra. Nothing. Cialis. Nothing. I made another appointment. The doctor said, Don’t worry. I’ll give you a shot. You’ll be fine.” When he came back with the needle I rolled up my sleeve. The doctor asked, “What are you doing?” I said getting ready for the shot. And he said, “No, not there. Take down your pants AND shorts.”
Apparently the doctor proceeded to inject his penis. He drove home as fast as he could and had an erection that lasted over four hours. To this day he has to carry a syringe with him on dates, “just in case”. He has learned how to inject himself. That’s what he has to do each and every time he wants to have sex. Can you imagine having sex for four hours? I actually thought about it that night when he dropped me off. I thought I could get started with him, leave and go shopping for a few hours and get back just in time for the finale. Then I realized there would never been any finale for this poor guy. He wasn’t able to ejaculate. As nice as he was, there was never a third date.
Which brings me back to, do I need to say anything? Or do I just go with the flow when it finally does happen? Maybe it would be a good surprise. What man wouldn’t want to think they had a schlong so big it wouldn’t fit in a grown woman’s vagina? I could be every man’s ego boost…
Straight, Gay, Bi, Trans, what would you do?