When everything goes swimmingly, I blog about it quickly and happily.
It has taken me many weeks to bang out this blog about two experiences Mrs. Said and I had. Unpleasant endings to REALLY fun nights where things just petered out. Right up front: I went soft. Flaccid. Limp. It has taken quite a bit of time to recover mentally from that oh-so-unmanly setback.
By now I have alternately processed, worked through, analyzed, capitulated, examined, explained, exaggerated, and minimized the experience and am ready to blog about it.
As you, dear reader, may know, Mrs. Said and I are keeping this blog completely anonymous so we can speak absolutely honestly about our experiences. Names are not used, non-critical details may be changed to protect the quasi-innocent (there are no “innocent” people reading this smut, right?).
The first “Hey! Where did my hard-on go?” experience happened about 5 hours after my usual bedtime. Given the fact that I had wood for several hours at the party and the after-party, I kind of dismissed that erectile failure as “I was just worn the f*ck out.” I had absolute sensory overload due to hours of flirting, hot tubbing, naked-pile-on-the-bed-ing, etc. I had to resort to jacking off to finish with dear Mrs. Said, but I reached the finish line.
On to the more recent, err, failure…. Since details might lead our friends to unmask Mr. & Mrs. Said, I have to be pretty general on this one. My apologies. In a nutshell, we got together with another couple for one of the first full swap experiences for both couples. Actually, at the beginning of the evening the mutual ground rules were for soft swap with a wait-and-see attitude towards full swap. The night progressed nicely. Great conversation, good chemistry all around. Really a great match.
As Reagan said, “Mistakes were made.” In hindsight, we should have been prepared (i.e. condoms on hand) but our little “naughty kit” was in the other room. Once we all decided to full swap — at which point I had been hard for an hour during foreplay was fully ready to go — I had to run to the other room to get our supplies.
Mind you, we were playing with the kids asleep upstairs. When I went to get the condoms, I thought I heard one of the
kids coming down. In hindsight, I think my not wanting to get busted by the kids triggered the “fight or flight” rush of adrenaline.
Have you ever tried to keep wood in that situation? As I found out in this experience – and backed up with research on Wikipedia – certain chemical reactions occur in the fight-or-flight response that cause loss of erection. I think that's what happened to me. I still had a semi when I got back in the room, but it was waning. I tried to get back in the game real quick, but I just couldn't get hard. Then the cascade of “ohshit!ohshit!ohshit! how can I blow this great opportunity?” came. I was amazed at how much of a shot to my ego this was. I tried to put on a good face, but inside I was dying.
As much as it has helped to listen to sympathetic podcasts like Episode 12, this can be a tough one to shake even with the rational part of my brain saying “Hey, this kind of thing happens. Given an environment with no kids upstairs, more familiarity with the other couple, etc. Performance won't be a problem.”
Thanks to the L.O.T.S. podcast (props to my man, Cooper) and lots of other info, I'm comfortable that this incident is likely not a problem. Time will tell. I'd like to thank the folks who have gone before me and blogged/podcasted/forumed about their experiences.
I'm not the only dude who has lost wood. Here's hoping for a quick bounce-back experience. Any similar experiences out there? Ladies, have you experienced this and gone on to play with the same couple again? If so, how was that “retry” experience?