With apologies to Eleanor R., my experiences certainly hang some meat on this bone.Some years ago, when I was just entering my 40s, the effort to arrange a visit with my first local provider turned into a steel-cage death match of logistics. First, she screwed up locations, then my schedule tanked just before our second attempt, then I was traveling for 3 weeks.. all the while trying to make this happen. By the time I actually showed up at her door, it had been about 9 weeks since I'd had a sexual release of any kind.
Lo and behold, I truly was Superman. Absolutely effortless wedding-dick-quality wood, twice during the session, complete with release, and, when emerging from my shower, I sprouted an immediate encore when I spied her delectable derriere as she lounged, dreamily, face-down on the bed in her boudoir - this was Ashley Avery, incidentally, for those veterans who have served.
As we parted, she said, "Sh*t - you should look into being a gigolo." I certainly appreciated the compliment behind the lie.
Regrettably, the erectile exploits above, while common when I was 19, are getting, yes.. harder and harder to come by. Self-abuse, in all ways, shapes and forms, takes its toll. I mention this partly because I again, find myself having "abstained" for multiple weeks, and will be seeing a young lady soon. Here's to hoping history repeats itself.
Any other tales of heroic woodsmanship born from the depths of denial?
Good hunting,
-Craig
All men *are* dogs. I just happen to be a very *good* dog.