The following topic of conversation is very embarrassing and very personal. It’s not easy to talk about, but I have a strong feeling I am not the only one who suffers from the issue. Warning: It may make some of you uncomfortable. I am exposing myself in this post, but I feel I need to face my demons to be able to get over them. I also feel guilty writing about this, because it’s a bit of an invasion of privacy for others, but I also feel it’s necessary if I’m being honest with myself and this blog. I wonder if someone out there may have insight to help me and others with this predicament. I feel the need to shine a light on this issue, as no one is talking about it.
My intentions were obvious this time around with Smiles. My hand was down his pants fondling him until I was pushed away with a grunt. There was no misconstruing my intentions. After being denied sex yet again by Smiles, I felt the need to consult my council.
I called Boston for his take on the situation. I explained being denied sex on more than one occasion. His immediate response was, “Oooooo. That’s not good. Something isn’t right.”
I responded, “I know, right? I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t making a mountain out of a mole hill.”
We chatted about the issue, and he told me I needed to address the issue. “Sex is an important part of any relationship, and based on what I read in your blog, sex is important to you,” he added. We discussed the best way to bring it up. The main consensus was waiting until the relevant situation arose. He suggested I don’t bring it up over dinner. If I was denied again, I should bring it up immediately to find the root of the problem.
This was the point in the conversation where I made a small confession of my own. I was worried I may have been to blame for the quantity. I explained my climaxing issue to Boston for the first time in full detail. I told him, while I’d been with Smiles a few times, I had yet to climax. This was through no fault of Smiles. This was a common occurrence for me dating back to the days I was with Broadway. In fact, I feel it was a large part of the reason we broke up. It put a lot of strain on the relationship. He took it personally, even though I assured him it had nothing to do with him. I was still quite attracted to him and still received pleasure from sex, but I wasn’t finishing.
I never was able to find the root of my problem. For a while, I hoped it would fix itself. When it didn’t I explored a number of theories. The leading one being I hardwired my brain to function in a specific way in relation to sex.
For 16+ years, my main outlet for my sexual frustrations was viewing gay porn and pleasuring myself. I wasn’t dating men, and I wasn’t exactly a lady killer either. I would go home, open the laptop, and take care of myself. I worried my brain was hardwired to react only to that stimuli.
I wanted nothing more than to “fix” this issue. For some time, I masked it by prepping myself. If I knew Broadway and I would be having sex, I watched porn before I saw him to build up a “spank bank.” I referred to this when he got me close to finishing to get me over that last hill. It worked for some time, but eventually that solution lost its effectiveness. That’s when things got really bad. I got so stressed about it, when the moment came, there was nothing I could do but think about my lack of performance. I was so wrapped up in the issue, there was no unwinding me at that point.
I had many frank discussions with Broadway on the subject. After discussing it, we agreed not to talk about the issue for some time. It was the only way I was going to be able to relieve some of the pressure I was putting on myself. Eventually it did the trick, and I had my happy ending. However, it wasn’t a 100% solution. Most of the time, I was only able to cum after he performed oral sex. A majority of our relationship, I never climax from anal penetration. The issue was still there. It was just lessened.
It wasn’t as big an issue with San Francisco because we were an entire country apart. When I was physically with him out in San Francisco, I had no issue. When we Skyped, it took slightly longer, but eventually I climaxed. After San Francisco, I slept with a handful of guys. I specifically remember it being an issue with The Trainer. I know it’s not an issue of physical attraction, because he had a body like a god! However, I had to finish myself off that time, and it took some time.
When I was dating N, it took a long time, but I almost always finished. He started noticing my “condition” as time went on. We discussed it lightly, but I think he was under the impression it just took me a little longer than most guys to finish. As I’ve said before, I had to resort to my “spank bank.” Many times, what I was imagining involved the two of us. I wasn’t even imagining porn stars. It was the two of us in different scenario/locations other than in my bed.
Over the summer, it wasn’t really and issue for me. I had no strong connection to the guys I was sleeping with. It was purely recreation and my own need to get some crazy out of my system. I had no pressure or image to keep up. I was just having fun, and it worked.
The first time Smiles and I had sex, I bottomed. No matter who I have been with, I have never finished from bottoming. It has its pleasures, but it never had that effect on me — Hence my status as a preferred top. With Smiles, there was one time when I was very close during oral sex. I was right there, but I just couldn’t close that final gap. After we had sex other times, and I still didn’t finish, I began to morph my theory.
I have a very high pain threshold. Because of this, I wonder if I am in turn cursed with a high pleasure threshold. Maybe it takes more to get me off. I also wondered if my stimulation comes from something more visual. Maybe I need to witness the penetration to climax. Again, these are all just shots in the dark, no pun intended, but I want nothing more than to figure out this enigma. However, I haven’t been able to test my theory at this point.
Smiles expressed his interest early on to work with me to figure this out. It meant a great deal to hear him verbalize this to me. I need someone who can be understanding and patient with me if I’m going to lick this thing.
After I talked to Boston, after a drunk night at the bar, I discussed in length with D my issue. This was really tough for me because I am so embarrassed by the situation. It makes me feel like less of a man. He was helpful in our discussion and helped me feel more comfortable talking about it.
I also called to Broadway. I didn’t exactly feel comfortable talking to him about the details of my new relationship, nor did I think it was fair to him. But, he had experience with this issue. He knew what was going on with me, and maybe now that we weren’t together, he could help me find the key. When I told him I was being denied sex, he immediately said, “Something’s wrong! That’s not normal. You need to talk to him about it.” Everyone was telling me what I already knew, but not what I wanted to hear. In thinking I was partially responsible for the situation, I brought up my issue. Maybe he was avoiding sex with me because I couldn’t finish.
Broadway told me I needed to stop being so stupid about it. I was stressing myself out over it, and that wasn’t going to solve anything. I needed to acknowledge to myself the issue and go see someone about it. I told him I had been entertaining the idea of going to see a therapist, but it takes a very special type of therapist for such a sensitive issue. It wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to find in the yellowpages. He again just indicated I needed to talk to someone about it if I wanted to get over it. He also reminded me I needed to talk to Smiles directly about why we weren’t having sex more often.
The next morning when I woke, I sent Smiles a message detailing my desire for him to be in the bed next to me and how horny I was. He responded positively and seemed he would have been up for morning sex had he actually been there. I was surprised considering a few hours earlier I was denied.
We made plans for Sunday, and I went on with my pondering my issue for the rest of the day. Did he think I didn’t enjoy sex? That certainly isn’t the case. Even if I don’t finish, I still thoroughly enjoy sex and still get a body high from it. Did it bruise his ego to know I wasn’t being fully stimulated by him? I can assure him, it is me, not him. There were a million questions, but no solid answers.
One thing is clear. I need help. I cannot solve this problem on my own, but maybe talking about it with my therapist, Dr. WordPress, will help me face my demons head on and conquer them. Only time will tell…