And no, I’m not talking about a “speed record”, where River and I try to have our fastest fuck possible, maybe 30 or 40 seconds. Sounds crazy but it’s crazy good. No, this is an entirely different sort of record. In a way it’s fun, but in another way it’s frustrating. You see, we’ve now fucked five times in a row without me coming.
A brief aside here. Modern usage is “cumming”. However, I came of age (or is that “cummed” of age?) in the 80s, and had been reading Penthouse forum letters since the mid-70s, and in those impressionable years it was definitely “coming”. Although “cum” was cumming onto the scene. “Cum” (both verb and noun), “cumming”, “cummed” — they all seem so vulgar. By way of comparison, “fuck” is a perfectly lovely word, and I’m obviously quite happy to be using it for what River and I do.
How did we end up in this situation, with five fucks and no proper finish? Most of the blame I lay squarely on this SSRI I’m on. When I started it I had no idea that one of its common side effects was making it hard to orgasm. But it took less than a month to figure it out. My desire and arousal were still there (thankfully, since antidepressants tend to wreak havoc with that stuff, and sex is truly the best antidepressant for me) but my response was completely off. River and I could fuck for half an hour and I’d never get anywhere near coming. Usually by that time I would have had to hold off several times.
And one time I intentionally didn’t come because we were having such an amazing fuck that coming might have seemed, well, an anti-climax, and the fuck had been so great I just didn’t need to come.
Another time it was a morning fuck. Finishing with morning wood can often be problematic for me. It’s like fucking on viagra, where I’m hard but not really properly aroused. So usually for a morning fuck I’ll wait to go soft if I’ve woken up hard, then get hard again for “the right reasons”, and things will be fine. And that’s what I did. But still, we fucked with no end in sight until we eventually had to leave off and get up. That was the SSRI’s doing.
Not coming can have its advantages. For one thing, River doesn’t have to drip all day. For another, it can be really mind-blowing when I finally come a day or two or three later and the pressure in my balls is suddenly and emphatically relieved. And I like the emotional and physical feelings of what we call “being in the middle of a fuck”, where we’ve started one day but I don’t finish until later. Finally, River doesn’t come very often, maybe once a month or so, and I can now appreciate her take on sex, that it doesn’t need an orgasm to be great, or to make for a good bond between us.
But after five times with no orgasm it’s getting a little old. River is thinking I’m going to shoot an epic load when I finally come, but there’s only so much the body can save up. Still, maybe I’ll pull out and come on her instead of in her, porno style, just so we can find out. It’s been years since I’ve done that, so past time for a little variety.
This post feels a little unfinished, too. I guess I’ll just be in the middle of a post for a while, until I finally have that earth-shattering come.