When I was in my late teens, I used to talk to a girl who saw me at a music event, developed a crush on me, found out my MSN contact from somewhere and added me. (I only knew about the whole fancying-me thing years later, though. One of the many reasons I kept saying girls should be more proactive with this.) I thought she was pretty cool, and we had a similar taste in music, which helped. We stayed in contact through university - that is to say, I was at university. She dropped out midway through her second year, which is understandable; university's not for everyone. Stayed where she was, though, because by that time she'd found a boyfriend.
Which is the abridged version of things. She had the same boyfriend basically since she moved there; she'd gotten pregnant by him once, had an abortion, supported him financially via her student loan, and taken lots of proto-selfies alongside him with the contrast turned up. The effect - and the brightness - was slightly dazzling.
The defining characteristic, though, seemed to be that her boyfriend was almost a decade older than her. This shouldn't have mattered, I knew, but that was also the reason she touted for the fact that he was, apparently, not very good at sex.
Which is also the abridged version of things. He wouldn't have sex with her, except for the times when he wanted to (without asking consent first). He wasn't very receptive to her needs, and wasn't particularly open to doing anything out of the ordinary (even oral sex, which she said he was good at; he just didn't do it much). The fact that she talked about it so much, and that she spent a lot of her time downloading porn (...also guilty...) even though she said she didn't like porn, was - to my mind - an indication that she wasn't happy with her sex life, and to a larger extent, with her much older boyfriend.
"The problem is," she said once, "is that he's 28, and his peepee isn't what it used to be."
I cringed myself inside out at her use of the word "peepee". It was like something my great-gran would have said.
"That's not an excuse," I should have said, "men reach their sexual maturity in their late teens, but there's no reason for interest or activity to decrease over time. There are some men who are still achieving healthy and potent erections into their eighties."
Only I didn't say any of that. I went with something like, "well, that sucks. I'm sorry."
"Hey, what's your favourite sex position?"
"I like classic fuck."
I don't know either, but I've been trying to use that phrase ever since. If it's good, it's a classic fuck.
Anyway, it's becoming more and more apparent that my own sex life is slowing down. I haven't had full-on penetrative sex for years, and although I occasionally have other forms of sex, the whole "being an adult" thing - and the fact that I have a full-time job, and the fact that we both work shifts (and I think that there's a nervousness factor to it as well) means that I don't get to spend as much time with my sex princess as I would like to. When I do, I'm just... exhausted. I'm hoping that this all evens out, of course, and that I'm not just suffering from the fact that I'm now over the age of 28 and thus having a defunct peepee.
According to my diary, however, I have had ninety-four orgasms this year so far, three "!!!" ones (whatever that means - thanks for clarifying, Past ILB), and several days where I have had more than one, often in quite quick succession.
I'm trying to convince myself, with varying degrees of success, that it's not just my age. In fact, it isn't, because I certainly haven't lost interest. The fact that I haven't been having sex certainly doesn't mean I'm broken. It's time, I've been telling myself, that I have a lack of, not sex drive. In fact, I'm kidding myself even more, not convinced (as the public are) that the sex-positive community are all busy with orgies, and that we are constantly in a world of erections the size of One Canada Square and constantly wet vaginas. Except me.
And it's summer. In summer, everybody's hot.
But I'm aware of this. And being aware is the first step towards recovery. I'm sure my peepee, despite my incredibly advanced age, is absolutely fine.