We’ve all heard about how stress can affect your ability to perform in bed. The psychological impact on a person’s libido when they’re subjected to large and sustained amounts of stress can be very detrimental. However, the damage doesn’t just remain psychological if the stress isn’t dealt with and removed from the equation.

The damage manifests physically.

Now, I’m no expert like Alexa and I’m not going to start giving advice like Shay. I’m just trying to relay what’s going on in my life and hopefully it can serve as a warning to others. It’s well documented what effect stress will have on your PC muscle, regardless of how well-toned it is. Guys, you may have been able to hold it in forever, but add on some serious stress and all those hours doing kegal exercises won’t amount to a thing. Keep the stress going, and you might not be able to keep yourself erect at all.

I’ve been dealing with quite a bit of stress and for quite a while. S might not be willing to admit to me that there’s a big problem, but there is. I should know. I know how I used to be able to perform when things were a little less troubling and I know how I’m performing now. It’s not the same. I used to be able to go longer, hold it easier, get hard instantly and stay that way for as long as I wanted. It’s not age, I’m a few months shy of 27.

The odd thing is that my libido hasn’t calmed at all. I still want sex just as much as I always have, but when the opportunity does arise it’s as if I’m separated from the faculties that I could normally call upon instinctively. It’s a sensation that I’d call more disturbing than odd. I can understand why men suffering from such debilitating forces might keep quiet about it. The ramifications can be embarrassing to say the least.

If I let this go any further, I worry about the damage becoming permanent. If the mind affects the body for so long, after a while the body won’t be able to heal, even if the mind can.

As I’ve said before, I’m seeking professional help. S has been amazingly supportive through this, as have friends and family, both IRL and through the series of tubes (you know who you all are, and I love you more than you know). I urge anyone who has  noticed performance issues in themselves or their partners to please consider stress as a real factor and one that can and must be remedied as soon as possible.

I want to hear if any of my readers have had these issues. Male or female. Feel free to write as much as you want, even double-post if necessary. If you have a blog and cover this issue there, please leave a link in my comments.

Seems I’m far too broke to go to The Everything To Do With Sex Show here in Toronto this weekend. When I say broke, I mean near-bankruptcy. No fake here.

I’m really disappointed on a few levels. Firstly I was planning on having pics and video and everything to post here. Also, my new mentor was going to be there and she was going to meet my new girlfriend. They were really looking forward to meeting.

Le sigh. There’s always next year.

Oh yeah, the mentor thing? I’ll explain in a separate post when there’s something more to talk about.

I figured I’d copy my fetish list from a popular fetish social networking site here, just in case anyone who would want to see it, doesn’t have or want to make an account. I’ve put a fair bit of time compiling it.

Into:

anime (watching), attention (everything to do with it), begging (everything to do with it), big tits, biting (everything to do with it), blogging (everything to do with it), breasts (everything to do with it), breath play (everything to do with it), bring-them-to-the-edge-of-orgasm-but-don’t-let-them-cum-for-a-while(everything to do with it), caressing (everything to do with it), chakra energy play,chocolate (everything to do with it), comic book characters (everything to do with it), cosplay (everything to do with it), creampie (giving), cuddles (everything to do with it), cum (giving), cunnilingus (everything to do with it), cyber sex (everything to do with it), erotic comics (everything to do with it), erotic literature (everything to do with it), erotic photography (everything to do with it), female ejaculation(everything to do with it), flirting (everything to do with it), foot/feet (everything to do with it), furry art (watching), futanari (watching), girls with guns (everything to do with it), hot oil massages (everything to do with it), impregnation fantasy (giving),intelligence (everything to do with it), kissing (everything to do with it), lips-so-close-to-your-ear-you-can-hear-and-feel-every-little-movement-and-you-want-to-cum (everything to do with it), masturbation (everything to do with it), moaning, screaming, groaning and other sounds of pleasure and pain(everything to do with it), multiple orgasms (everything to do with it), nipples(everything to do with it), nudity (everything to do with it), online play (everything to do with it), oral sex (everything to do with it), pajamas (everything to do with it),science fiction/cyberpunk/fantasy (everything to do with it), seduction(everything to do with it), sex (everything to do with it), snuggling (everything to do with it), squirting (everything to do with it), swords (everything to do with it), talking dirty (everything to do with it), toe socks (watching others wear), twitter (everything to do with it), video games (everything to do with it), writing erotica (everything to do with it).

Curious about:

forced masturbation (everything to do with it), accents(everything to do with it), age play (everything to do with it), anal sex (giving),animal play (everything to do with it), art erotica (everything to do with it), ass play(giving), ass worship (everything to do with it), auralism (everything to do with it), bellydancing (everything to do with it), bisexuality (everything to do with it), black women (everything to do with it), blindfolds (everything to do with it), body worship (everything to do with it), bondage (everything to do with it),breastfeeding (watching), breeding (everything to do with it), burlesque(everything to do with it), candle wax (everything to do with it), clit pumping (giving),cock milking (receiving), cock worship (receiving), consensual nonconsent(everything to do with it), corsets (everything to do with it), costumes/dressing-up(everything to do with it), cunt worship (giving), deep throating (receiving), dildos(everything to do with it), domestic servitude (everything to do with it), double penetration (giving), energy play (everything to do with it), erotic hypnosis(everything to do with it), exhibitionism (everything to do with it), fetnights(everything to do with it), fighting (think mr. & mrs. smith) (everything to do with it), fire and ice (everything to do with it), forced nudity (everything to do with it),forced orgasms (everything to do with it), fucking machines (everything to do with it), gangbangs (everything to do with it), geeks (everything to do with it), geisha(everything to do with it), group sex (everything to do with it), high protocol(everything to do with it), hypnosis (everything to do with it), japanese bondage(everything to do with it), kinbaku (everything to do with it), lactation (receiving),lingerie (everything to do with it), making home movies (everything to do with it),martial arts (everything to do with it), master/slave (everything to do with it),mutual masturbation (everything to do with it), orgy (everything to do with it),petplay (everything to do with it), polyamory (everything to do with it), power exchange (everything to do with it), pussy pumping (giving), pussy worship(giving), remote-control devices (everything to do with it), role play (everything to do with it), sacred sexuality (everything to do with it), sapiosexuality (everything to do with it), sensual play (everything to do with it), sensual/slave dances(everything to do with it), sensualism (everything to do with it), service (everything to do with it), sex magick (everything to do with it), sex while playing video games(everything to do with it), sexual slavery (everything to do with it), shibari (everything to do with it), steampunk aesthetics (everything to do with it), superheroes(everything to do with it), sybian (watching), tantra (everything to do with it),threesomes (everything to do with it), tit fucking (receiving), vampires (giving),vibrators (everything to do with it), voyeurism (everything to do with it).

Anything peak your interest?

It’s an apt question. Many people ask it of themselves in times of stress. I’ve been asking it of myself for a while now.

As I’ve already gone over the realities of my past, I’ll now try and look ahead.

First, I’m with someone new. S is a great girl. We’ve known each other for a few months and we seem to click. She was around for the breakup. She tried to help me find the strength to press on with Reivanna, them being friends at the time. Currently, Reivanna is under the impression that I was stolen from her by S. I can’t seem to convince her otherwise, and her anger has torn apart what would have been a wonderful friendship. I still hope at some point things can be mended, but time will tell.

After taking some time to clear my head a little, S made it clear she wanted to be with me. Many people would say that it was in my best interests to take quite a bit more time off before getting into another relationship, but after explaining to S that things would have to move very loose and very slow if this was going to happen at all, and her agreeing, we went ahead with it. Alone time is hard to come by, since we both live with our parents, but we enjoy each other’s company a lot and we’re letting things happen as they will. I’ve come out of this whole thing with a deep-seated fear of commitment, and until that goes away, anything could happen.

Not every relationship has to be a long-term relationship. The short-term, the FWB, the non-relationship relationship… these and others are things I should try and explore if the opportunity presents itself.

Another important bridge I’ve crossed is the realization that I once again require professional psychiatric help in my life. This is for several reasons:

- My first relationship last 8 years and ended horribly, taking every ounce of inner strength I had with it. I need help reconciling that whole thing.

- I can’t take a compliment from a woman. It doesn’t matter who it is or mostly what it’s about, I just don’t believe it. I can’t. I’ve tried. There’s an inner compulsion that forces me to thing that it’s pity or some other crap. The closest thing I’ve ever come to getting through that is on Twitter and other social networking sites, where for some reason that I can’t fathom, people like me. I WANT to believe it when S says she loves me and finds me attractive. At this point I don’t think I could believe my own mother. Compliments from a guy? Sure, no problem. From a woman? A snowball’s chance in hell. This probably stems from my ongoing issues with self-esteem, but whatever it is I need to resolve it. That’s not to say I don’t appreciate the effort many go through to compliment me. I really do.

- It seems my stress levels over the last year or so have caused a few physical symptoms. The latest one is (I want everyone to realize how VERY difficult it is for me to put this out there) a slight case of premature ejaculation. S says it’s not there, but I know me, I know how long I used to be able to long out and how much effort I’ve put into those skills. I do PC exercises on the bus for crying out loud. I’ve heard how stress can affect that. For someone who took what little pride he could from his performance (and was looking to have formal tantric training), this is… well… you can imagine. Looking back, the last few times I had sex with Reivanna were quicker and quicker. She probably just thought I was using her for a quickie, and I was too stupid to realize there was a problem. Maybe I should apologize to her for that.

Once I get a referral from my doc, I can get the visits covered by OHIP (hopefully) and I’ll be posting about those visits here.

One of the reasons I started this blog was to push myself to be open and explore. Now it’s become part of a safety net. A series of connections to the world around me and to people who seem to care about me. As long as I stay connected, I should be able to heal. At the very least it’ll keep me from offing myself.

I wrote this a while ago. Back then things seemed a lot simpler. My next post will be about my present and future, and the challenges before me as I try to regain some semblance of psychological, emotional and sexual health. It will not be pretty, so I’ll forget my worries in what I once was.

Been a while eh?

This is a very difficult thing for me to write. I’m going to cry several times in the crafting of this post, so please bare with me.

Been a few months since Reivanna and I broke up. I needed to pause this blog so that I could get a handle on my life, which was nearly-completely shattered by that single event. I had to move back in with my parents out in the suburbs, which is causing some issues but nothing major.

I need to talk about this. I need to try and make sense of it. I’m worried that if I don’t get to the bottom of why this relationship failed, I won’t be able to make another one work.

Let me begin by stating that I’m a fixer. I have this reservoir of energy that I dip into to help other people when such help goes above and beyond what the norm is. When I first met Reivanna 8 years ago, I saw someone deep inside her that was just amazing, but needed help coming out. I felt I wanted to be with that person. In hindsight that was a horrible reason to get into a relationship, but I did it.

Things went very slowly. Her introvertedness caused a lot of issues between her and my family. My friends often didn’t know what to make of her, and reading her emotions was difficult to say the least. I think one of the nails in the coffin was that I was never able to read the signs of trouble until it was too late. Whether the signs were just too small or I failed in some way, I don’t know.

Communication was always an enormous issue. I tried. I really did try. She’d want this and that from me but was never able to vocalize it until after the fact. I probably should have paid more attention, but the frustration of having to put every action and non-action under a microscope for her sole benefit became too much for me to handle. She never came out with what she felt until it exploded in a torrent of tears. She cried a lot. I tried my best to get through the crying to actual conversation, but I could never find the way.

I think the biggest issue was trust. She said she trusted me, but never acted like it. If I was not home right after work, even when I was just having coffee with a friend, she’s be home crying, sometimes leaving me voicemail where she’s be crying so much I could not make out what she was saying. Every female contact was suspect. I was entirely open with my communications, and if she had trusted me, that would have been enough. Her most common response was, “I trust you. It’s them I don’t trust.” I’m not sure what that means.

Another nail was certainly the sex. She would often complain days after the fact that she wanted some attention, but when I did give it to her she rarely seemed interested. It took me a long time to get her to come out of her shell, and the rare occasion she did it was great, but far too often she lay there stoically, waiting for me to initiate. Let me make this clear, in the many years she and I were sexually active, she did not initiate sex more than once or twice. How and why do I remember this? I often pleaded with her to at least try and seduce me. Show me that you want me without me having to beg for you to work up the courage over days. Never happened. Well, never happened with me at least. Her new boyfriend is quite adamant that a lot of the issues I had just seemed to evaporate when they are together.

She hit me. I hesitate to bring that up because it makes her look really bad but let me explain. It was not often, but the few times it was out of anger. There were plenty of times I was so frustrated with her that I wanted to lash out but I didn’t because I’d probably really hurt her. She was too small to hurt me. After the first time I asked her never to hit me again, she cried (as she often did) and promised me she would not. There were two more instances. I don’t blame her for being angry or frustrated because I felt the same way, but for her to see hitting as her only recourse when I was pleading for her to talk…

There’s more. I’m sure there’s more. As much my fault as it is hers…

A lot of what brought the whole thing down was my fault. The structural issues. I became the white knight from day one. I was responsible for what we did and how we did it. That reservoir I told you about? A fixer almost never sees the bottom of it, but I did. I reached in for more energy to help her and there wasn’t any. I don’t remember what day it happened specifically since the shock of it lasted for days, but I can tell you it was by far the most terrifying moment in my entire life. I’m shaking just thinking about it. To have something so intrinsic to your identity bled away from you until you’re an empty husk. It’s not her fault mind you, in the fashion that she did not do this mindfully and with malice.

After that point I tried to be more vocal about what I needed from the relationship, seeing the end coming on fast, but by then it was much too late. She had also around that point finally sought out professional psychiatric help, but again, as far as our relationship was concerned… too late. She had finally found some people she was comfortable talking to… more comfortable than was was talking to me. I was happy that she was talking to someone at least.

I should have yelled and screamed. I should have been as vocal as I could have been far sooner than I was about what I needed. In that I take full responsibility. I never expected her to read me the way she apparently expect me to read her. A failing on both sides.

The night it happened was almost surreal. She had been out of work for quite a while and was (IMHO) dragging her feet either finding a new job or getting assistance. I tried to speak about it for what seemed like the hundredth time. She was on the couch staring at a TV that was turned off. After I realized I was sounding like a broken record, I asked her if she wanted me to just shut up. She shook her head. I went into the bedroom and just caught a glance at my reflection. I don’t know what it was about it but the sight made me want to vomit. I disgusted myself. I sat on the edge of the bed and did everything I could not to cry. My hands were gripping the comforter for dear life. She walked in, saw me shaking, sad on the best silently for a bit and and then ran into the living room crying. I needed her to talk to me, to help me. I shoved my emotions down again and walked into the living room. I asked what was wrong, she said she made me angry. At this point I’m not sure what happened but instead of my usual calming assurances, what came out of my mouth was, “I’m not sure I can make this work.”

No fighting. No pleading. Nothing. A second or two of staring at me and then the crying, WAILING in fact… which lasted the better part of 48 hours. I took a day off work to take care of her and make sure she didn’t off herself, which she tried to do a few times. Talking to her was nearly impossible.

I wanted to tell her I’d keep the apartment long enough for her to calmly figure out what her next best movie would be. Months if need be. I tried to tell her that I’d do my best to help her out in the coming months as much as I could. She didn’t hear it, or didn’t want to hear it, I’m not sure. I had to call her father to let him know what had happened, him being the only family that could take her in. He lives about four hours away. I didn’t expect him to come pick her up, but he did. He’s a good man who wants to do right by his daughter.

I didn’t hear or see her for a few days, and when she came back she only was back to grab what she could carry. Actually I had to carry as well. All the way downtown on mass transit. I didn’t understand what was going on until she told me she was going to live with Jon and Brianna. Those of you who know Reivanna and I a little better know who they are and know the history that Reivanna and Brianna have. I didn’t think this was a good idea at all. Three people, living downtown off of welfare and disability and whatever else they could get their hands on, an apartment they just should not be able to afford. She was supposed to start taking more responsibility for her life, and IMHO this was giving herself a great excuse not to. Even though I received assurances from Jon and Bri that it would only be short-term and they would help her out as best they could, it was sadly not to be. Shortly after she moved in, Jon and Bri broke up violently after Jon unveiled his long-standing love for Reivanna. When I say long, I mean years. Depending on who you ask they had been fantasizing about each other since they met (according to Jon’s blog, about a year even before they met).  Reports vary about what happened during that chaotic time leading up to Bri moving out, but it was not pretty. I don’t want to believe Reivanna is capable of the things I was told she did. I still don’t believe them. She doesn’t have that kind of malice in her heart.

I was more or less cut off from being able to help her from that point. Contact was difficult to say the least. I gave her as much time as I could to come get her stuff but I ended up having to move out myself. I didn’t manage to keep all of my stuff, so you can guess what happened to hers. Getting the keys back from her was interesting. I came downtown to meet her so she could give the keys back, and instead Jon came. I didn’t know what was going on at that point, but now it makes perfect sense. Bri would later tell me that he wanted nothing more than to lay me out for hurting “his woman”. Whatever the case, I wish he had been forward with his feelings for her. I wish he had seen I deserved that much after all this. I would not have been mad. I would have understood.

She thinks I cheated on her with a mutual friend of mine. Attraction was obvious, but let me be clear, I did not cheat on Reivanna while we were still together. About 2 weeks after she moved out, I had sex, once. It was more an offering of comfort than anything else, and afterwards I felt bad about it. I have not had sex since I moved out, and probably only once more before that.

She’s got her own blog now. I’ll set up the RSS feed to it once I clean out the existing list a little. I’m trying to mend things. She stayed in Toronto in order to be near people, yet she never comes out to see them. She’s cut off so many people she once called friends. There have been so many miscommunications and misunderstandings that have hurt a lot of people, and it can all be fixed if those people were big enough to sit down and deal. She needs friends, and if the one person who should be most hurt by her actions can do his best to reach out to her, then everyone else can as well.

I want her to be happy. I want her to be well. I still love her. I’ll always love her. No matter how much that hurts me I can’t change that. The more she communicates with me, the more the both of us can figure out exactly what went wrong so that it never happens again. Healing it harder alone.

So you’re probably wondering where does this leave the blog. Well you may notice a lot of missing pictures. Those were saved on her accounts and she’s taken them down. I could clean things up and delete the posts or post what few copies I have, but I won’t. the holes in this blog are the holes in me, and I’m not sure they will ever be healed. They stay. Now, I’m sure the vast majority of you came here to see pics of her in the past. Sadly that won’t be the case anymore. I expect a huge drop in views just on the fact that it’s just little old homely me now. Adam and Eve have been nice enough to extend another invitation to me, to continue my review work. I’ll gladly do my best to cover as much as I can. Things might be a bit slow returning as I get the flow back. I’ll probably miss a few MFMs and HNTs, but I’ll do my best. On the upside, I have a few other little ideas for this blog that I think would still work solo.

One last note: I have four other blogs that you can find me on.

A Geek blog.

An EVE-Online blog.

A Pagan/spiritual blog.

A food blog.

Take care all. Hope to see you around… *hugs*

You may have noticed a real lack of posting lately. The reason behind this is that A and I have broken up after 8 years of knowing each other, 5 of them living together and 3 being engaged.

I won’t go into the details yet since both of us are still very raw about it. The blog won’t be disappearing, but it will be going on hiatus for a few months while things take their course. I can’t make any promises other this blog returning with at least myself.

I’m really sorry about this. I’ll be back… hopefully soon.

Grooming (also sometimes known as man-scaping) is something every sexually active person should at least consider. While some women like hairy guys, it’s my understanding most don’t. As an Italian, I have an above-average level of body hair, so at least a minimum amount of maintenance is required. Now, I don’t shave my body, go in for laser hair removal or anything that extreme, but I do trim my public hair, which I sometimes call my mane.

The before pic shows quite a bit of growth. Personally I give it a little attention once a month, and it seems to work. For the sake of this demonstration though, I let it go for 2 months. Notice how curly is it. Usually for the sake of this blog I try to get a good boner going, but it’s imperative when trimming the mane that you are flaccid. In case of an accident, I’d much rather nick a limp dick than one overly-engorged with blood.

Now, I find the best way of doing this is with a small set of scissors. I get naked and into the tub. The tub is best because you can easily pick up the large clumps of hair afterwards to throw out, and the rest can be washed down the drain. Also, if you suddenly decide to shave it all off, you’re in the perfect spot for it. Place your foot up on the side and begin SLOWLY trimming away. I find softly pulling on the hairs to uncurl and extend them allows for the safest process and the best result.

And here you have it. Yes I did manage to knick myself. The flash makes it look like I did a pretty shitty job but really it looks fine. I’m told leaving a certain amount of bristly hair gives you an interesting effect when you apply… friction.

You’re writhing.

I’m pumping.

I get an idea.

You’re interested.

I bet the weekend’s chores on who can make who orgasm next.

You grin and nod.

We vie for control, both fighting the rising urges.

We both know all of each other’s buttons.

I’m bigger. I wrestle you down.

You fight it. You clamp down.

We both peak and explode at the same time. A draw.

I role over. Your eyes roll forward again.

Best two out of three?

SensualStories runs a journaling game via Twitter and her blog. I usually don’t get around to submitting but I managed to fine time for this one. Enjoy!