not orgasming
Following on from splitting with the ex Mrs Season Ticketless last year, I dreamt that my life as a singleton would be spent drinking, chatting up girls and shagging more times each week than I had managed in the previous 18 months.

What I didn't reckon on was the sheer lack of self confidence, self motivation and down right laziness that clung to me like a bogey to a toddlers nostril.

After nine months of feeling like crap, I decided to get my arse in gear and get laid. Yes, my way of thinking was that clinical.

Size, shape, colour and smell would matter little in my quest to satisfy ST Junior, so off I went in a bid to get my nuts wet.

Self bravado is a wonderful thing at times, and soon enough I found myself naked and alone with a willing (and sober) female,

Now, Mr Slim isn't a nickname I'll be earning anytime soon, but this particular girl look like she had eaten non stop for years. Big doesn't begin to describe her. However, the pre-settling-down motto of "every hole's a goal" was the mantra that kept repeating in my head.

Any pre performance worries went out of my mind as I stood to attention, ignoring the open curtains which would give all of the neighbours a view of erect ST and the ensuing sexual activity which would no doubt remind older neighbours of space ships docking on the moon.

We got underway, doggy style, which I'd said I prefered because it was my favourite, though in reality it was an excuse to a) not look at her and b) to have a good look around the room while I was ploughing away. You see, being the crafty type, I'd taken matters into my own hand a couple of hours earlier so that I could be confident of a decent performance that night.

What I didn't account for was my body reverting to it's teenage state. Within thirty seconds I slowed down the pace as I felt a familiar tremble down below. Shit. No! It's been thirty seconds. Surely I can't be about to shoot alre... Bugger. I stop, mid thrust, unsure of the correct ettiquette in this situation. Do I stop? Apologise? Ask for a break?

"are you ok?" she asked, looking over her shoulder. Shit. I'd stopped. Panic. I started thrusting again.

"erm, yeah, it feels so good." at least I wasn't lying. I sped up again, still (thankfully) at full mast, even with a full condom on. "You ok?" I asked.

Of course, she was fine, but in my panicced reply, I know realised that we were having sex again. Or rather: I was having sex again. To all intents and purposes, she was STILL having sex.

What to do now?

In truth, dear reader, I didn't know what the Hell to do. I'd like to write that I stopped, admitted coming quickly and restarted a few minutes later after we'd enjoyed a laugh about it.

Instead I carried on going. Harder and harder, faster and faster until finally, a good five minutes later, she whimpered in what I assumed was some form of ecstacy, and slumped forward, as I grunted in time with her whimpers to echo what I hoped sounded somewhere similar to a normal blokey orgasm, even doing my best to 'twitch' in the right places at the right times.

And THAT is the true story of how I faked NOT having an orgasm a few weeks ago.
( SeasonTicketless is too often the statue, and rarely the pigeon., Thu 10 Jul 2008, 16:08, 2 replies)

Glad to hear you're still keeping your hand in...
erm....


Well....

Good to have you back.
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Thu 10 Jul 2008, 23:23, closed)

err
.
It sounds Like you just shagged my ex-wife!

She wasn't blonde was she?

Say it ain't so....

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Fri 11 Jul 2008, 16:04, closed)