Frustrated PenisYou know you’ve been having sex too fast for too long when you begin to hope the lube is not flammable.

Google finished the search phrase for me and turned up loads of pages for delayed ejaculation, known medically as “retarded ejaculation”… and I’d have to agree. For the first time in my life I’m taking a prescribed pharmaceutical which targets my brain and it’s having some interesting effects that my doctor failed to mention.

Loss of libido is on the list of side effects. I’ll admit mine may have been turned back a notch, but when you huff and puff and blow against a wind storm it’s really hard to notice any affect. What I have noticed is harder, more durable morning wood and sexual staying power that rivals the endurance of porn’s Viagra popping pros.

Do you ever wish you could go back and visit your younger self to offer guidance? I’d show up on the doorstep of the 18 year old me and advise me/him to buy stock in Microsoft. I would tell him not to sweat the small stuff, to appreciate the people closest to him, that sex is an intimate connection between people which does not revolve around his penis, and then I’d hand him a fist full of these pills.

I spent longer than I care to admit beating my younger self up for disappointingly early “results” in the sack. It took learning techniques, both physical and mental, to get past what was exacerbated by fear of failing my partner. Her orgasm was definitive validation of me as both a man and a sex machine. In my mind, if she failed to climax then she blamed me for the failure… her pleasure was my responsibility and duration seemed key to the equation.

Interestingly, the tables have turned and it is now she who comes first (and second, and third…) while I have trouble getting there. As the partner not achieving orgasm, do I blame her performance? No! Again, I blame me (more rightfully this time) and until we realized the meds were at fault she blamed herself for not being stimulating enough.

You might think this sounds fantastic, lasting all night and giving her orgasm after orgasm until she begs you to stop. It is! Well… it would be if we were on vacation and not just trying to get some intimate release squeezed in before bed on a weeknight. All the pleasure is there without loss of sensation but I’m stuck on a plateau and unable to approach that edge where loss of control begins. I’m a sex machine without an off button.

The thing I wanted for so long when I was younger has become a reality… and I don’t like it, the grass is not really as green as I hoped. It’s true that Jane’s pleasure is of primary focus for me when we have sex and so the extra time she spends writhing in orgasmic bliss is awesome! But she also gets satisfaction from my pleasure (well, I do too) so when the fun stretches on and on and she gets sore from all the action it takes away from the experience.

I get distracted by thoughts of the bed falling apart, pistons pounding in an over-revved engine, and wondering if that is really smoke I’m smelling. But the reality is I’m fucking a beautiful woman, it all feels fantastic, she loves me dearly, and we’re sharing a moment of intimate connectedness which grounds a lifetime relationship. It is enriching, reaffirming, and lifts us up to better appreciate each other. In other words, the sex does not revolve around my penis.

That said… the delayed orgasm I eventually achieve after the marathon build up is nothing less than spectacular! So there is that. I suppose my problems are not really problems.