Sex in the Age of Anger , Depression

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I am in a sexual relationship I never thought I’d be in. Not that I mind it. It’s so off the wall that I like it. Best yet, it clears my performance anxiety and doesn’t require birth control.

My cock has been the same every morning. Every day and night, too. No matter how much I take it in my hands and try to revive it, it stays limp. I am afraid. It has been this way for a year now. And I had seen it coming for a few years. It hasn’t been standing as tall. Two years ago it was standing straight up. By last year, at a 90-degree angle. Now, never higher than 45 degrees.

Why I still masturbate, I don’t know.

I try to think of the positives: I can now fit the whole thing into a woman’s mouth. I won’t wake up with it jackknifed in my underwear. No embarrassing moments while sitting down.

Of course, I also can’t have sex.

I dropped the hint to a platonic lady friend who never dates. Lisa is beautiful, striking, intelligent, and very unhappy. She is a frustrated intellectual. I know she uses vibrators and dildos because she hinted at it once when we were drunk. She is disillusioned with men. Her father had never let her defend herself when she was young. Her whole life was silence. She says we men masturbate too much. We’re not connected to our feelings. We’re too much into pornography and not real women. We don’t care about relationships. Blah blah blah.

“That thing,” she told me more than once, “is always getting in the way.”

“Gee, do you think we should remove them?”

“I know lots of women who would be happy to do it for you.”

“So it’s about the penis and not the man?”

She didn’t answer. “You should date a eunuch,” I told her. “They’re becoming more common these days.”

“Well, I’m glad there are some men who are coming to their senses.”

I smiled. “You could have a man without that “thing,” as you call it.”

“David, dear, eunuchs do have that “thing.” It’s the two things behind it that they don’t have.”

“Lisa, dear, that “thing” usually doesn’t work in eunuchs. Sometimes, but not always. That’s what I mean.”

She didn’t hear me say “you have penis envy” under my breath.

Oddly, we spend a lot of time together: a woman impotent with rage and a man impotent with sex. We go over the same things when we’re together. Why are men this way? Why are they that way? Why is no one electing a woman President? And why are women this way? I counter. And why are they that way? And why the hell are they always trying to keep their privileges once they’ve gotten their rights?

She comes over, drinks my beer, eats my food, raids my fridge like Kramer on Seinfeld, and I like it. She lounges on the couch with her legs spread carelessly, knowing full well that it’s turning me kartal escort bayan on. She says “fuck” right and left. Sometimes the first thing that comes out of her mouth when she enters my apartment is a tirade against men. But I’m convinced we like each other. I massage her tense shoulders, she massages mine, we kid each other about our neurotic lives, and sometimes we even spend the night, sexless and passionless.

I cook for Lisa quite frequently. I make lewd jokes about the cucumbers and zucchini. Once in a while she will make a joke, and we will laugh together. I envy these shared moments. Once she showed me her penis—not a penis between her legs, but the one she had to draw for sex-ed class. It was a pretty sad-looking penis. It depressed me, so I drew a happy one that stood straight up, proudly and happily.

“Here, Lisa, I’m showing you my penis,” I laughed.

“Is that all I get?” she asked.

What did she mean by that?

I am impotent, just like her penis was.


One night, we were discussing what we wanted in a relationship. Lisa did not know. She asked me if I had read the sex advice column in the paper. The one where a woman asked how common it really is for guys to enjoy taking it up the ass from a woman wearing a dildo.

“More common than you think, Lisa. A lot of guys want to know what it’s like on the receiving end.”

“Is that so? You fucking men never cease to amaze me.”

“Yeah. It’s quite so. Actually, Lisa, that would be the ideal relationship for you. You taking control of the dick that you think is always oppressing women, then leaving the guy’s dick out of the picture, and just pumping away. And these days, strap-ons can stimulate your clitoris while they’re on you.”

“David, how do you know so much about this?”

I blew across my fingertips. “Oh,” I say, “I just understand men.”

For the first time in months, I could feel my asshole tingle and my cock stir.


When we first “did it,” we were drunk. We’d just watched a show on retired prostitutes, and Lisa was on her rampage again. She said, if men only knew what it was like to be on the receiving end all the time.

“Maybe we men should try it,” I told her.

“You should. You should stop having the dicks all the time.”

“I would. I would try it.”

“Try what? Having a woman on top of you all the time?

“Yes. Sure. I can find lots of guys who would. Did you know that “The Strap-On Community” is one of the most popular areas of Internet newsgroups? Thousands of guys thirst over the pictures of women fucking men in the ass.”

“Well, if I had one right now—”

“I have one in the closet.”


“A strap-on. Someday I’m going to have some woman use it on escort maltepe me. I’ll be on my knees in front of the mirror. On my back, on my side, bending over. Everything.”

“David, why do you have a dildo in your closet?”

“Lisa, why do you have a dildo in YOUR closet?”

“I have mine because I miss the penis, as much as I hate it.”

“And I have mine because … Sometimes I wish I had a vagina.”

“Cripes, and I’m the one seeing a therapis?”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

She bade me get it out and show her. I put the harnessed dildo in her hands and watched her expression. “Wow,” she said. It was about five inches long, tan, veined, and fascinating to her.

“Put it on over your pants,” I said.

When she did, we giggled together. This young, beautiful, unhappy woman standing there with a cock sticking out from her. I took hold of it and rubbed it. “Ooh, Lisa, what a gorgeous cock you have. Ooh, I want this. I want it in me.”

I asked her to make thrusting motions at me. When she did, she was surprisingly good at it.

I got down on all fours in front of her. “Okay, Lisa, I’m submitting, just like you think all men should do. I’m ready to be on the receiving end.”

“I need more alcohol in me first,” she told me. Getting some booze from my fridge, she drank from the bottle and offered me some.

“Pour it over your beautiful cock while I get on my knees and lick it off,” I said.


“Do it.” I hurried over to kneel in front of my cock-wielding friend. “Pour it over your cock.” When she obliged, I slurped it off the plastic cock, licking up every last drop. “Lisa, if women could cum like men do, men would make cocktails out of it.”

“Yeah, sure, David.” She rubbed it over my face, on both sides, put it into my mouth, grabbed my head and shoved me forward.

“You really do like that,” she said, noticing how much I relished sucking her cock. “What is up with you? Are there really other men like you out there?”

“Mmmfghfgppgp” I nodded with a mouthful of cock.

“Maybe there is hope after all for you.”

“There is! This is your chance, Lisa! Give us the hope we need!”

“Okay, well, get me some lube. You’re not getting any lube from my pussy!”

“Go to the top shelf in the bathroom. It’s there.”

When she came back a minute later, her cock was bouncing seductively, my ass was itching, and … I was hard for the first time in almost a year. Lisa turned down the lights, telling me she was not sure that she wanted to see my ass so close up. She ordered me to lube her penis.

“Here, grease the cock that fucks you. Oh, that’s funny. Grease the cock that fucks you! How apt! Do it!”

Trembling with excitement, I unscrewed the lid from the lube and pendik escort pulled out a gob. I coated her cock with it. “Okay,” I said, “Now I have to do my hole.”

“I’m excited, David. I’ve never done this before.” She chattered excitedly while I pulled off my pants at record speed, assumed the position in front of her, and reached back and put the jelly on my asshole. Now ready, I proceeded to spread it.

“Ewwww!” she said when I had it spread.

“Hey, power has its price, you know. Not every guy is enthralled with the pussies he fucks!”

Suddenly I felt a whack! on my left cheek. “Ouch!” I cried.

“Don’t talk like that!”

“Well, then give me what I deserve! Make me sensitive. Put me in touch with my feelings.”

She pushed in, somewhat roughly, but I was prepared. That plastic cock was not a virgin to me. When she got it in as far as she could get it, she pumped in and out. I bucked back, opening my hole on the in-thrusts, and closing it on the outs.

Strangely, we were quiet during most of this time. She moved in and out of me without a word. But she was thrusting hard, groaning and grunting as she hit every corner of my vulnerable ass. We were friends, yes, but she was clearly ravaging me.

“Do you like this?” she asked at last.

I answered by moaning a drawn-out “yes.”

Then I felt Lisa lean in to the dildo. I felt her grind her crotch into it, sending it a little deeper into me. Her breathing grew heavier. I turned and saw her grimace. After a minute of panting, she grew silent.

“I just came,” she said. “Oh, my God. I haven’t come with a guy in two years.”

I was happy. I had come, too, all over the floor.

She dislodged herself from the contraption and told me to put it somewhere else, as she did not want to see what a dildo looked like when it came out of someone’s ass. With my half-hard cock bouncing in front of me and my ass throbbing, I tossed the thing into the bathtub. When I got back, Lisa was lying on the couch, moaning in a barely audible voice. I sat down beside her, with my dick growing limp. I could see that her eyes were glazed. She was beautiful.

My beautiful Lisa.


We have since moved on to Lisa taking off her clothes before strapping on the dildo. She has a really hairy pussy, and the hair peeks out of the harness. And she has let me eat her hairy, aromatic, allegedly feminist cunt, an act I love so much I forget my own penis.

I love to do it in front of a mirror. On my hands and knees with Lisa behind me. On my side with Lisa behind me. The cruel irony is that my cock is fully hard only when I’m being fucked in the ass by Lisa. She’s not interested in touching my cock that much, although she will on occasion.

Every penetration seems like a notch on her belt. See what happens when you have the ability to fuck someone? Maybe she was right. Maybe it’s the dick that makes the person.

But I don’t mind. I am happy the way things are. We are taking things slowly. Maybe someday, we’ll both grow up.

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