“You need a good lubricant and you’ll be fine,” said my internist, dismissing both my issue and me. I prayed he was right.
Wanting to see if he was, I invited at old “friend” over to hang out for dinner and a movie. Well, that’s what I told him. Meanwhile I had a slightly different plan. Wanting to appear as appealing as possible, I pulled out all the plugs – I waxed, put on some make up, and had a mani-pedi. I even dug through my lingerie drawer and put on a little Calvin Klein number. Simple but with quite a bit of sex appeal. I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard even thought I was. After dinner and some TV I practically covered myself in lubricant when we got down to things.
“I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you. Or maybe myself. It feels like there’s a bone in there.”
“No, no, no, it’s okay. I’m fine.”
“You need to relax.” I took another swig of my Mojito. (Yes, I even made Mojitos.)
“Okay. Ready.” He tried again while I turned my face from him and gritted my teeth. I wished I smoked pot.
“I think I’m the wrong guy for this. I’m not into the rape fantasy.”
“Let’s keep trying. You’re a doctor. Don’t you have any tricks up your sleeve?”
“I’m a dentist.” Then there was a pause. “And I don’t carry my drill around.”
“Next time I’ll take a pain killer so I’m out of it,” I suggested.
“Hey, who do you think I am, Bill Cosby? I want to make love to you when you’re conscious.”
I guess I should have been happy with the compliment but me hopes of popping my cherry, for the second time in my life, were quickly being smashed to smithereens.
“Listen, I’m happy with two out of three things. You put out a great spread and I watched some good TV. I don’t need to have sex every time I see you. Let’s just go to sleep.”