Erectile Dysfunction Pt. 01

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Angela White

Erectile Dysfunction, Part 1

by The Big Bopper

This is not a fun story, nor is this first part hugely erotic. It is, in fact, a serious attempt to recognise and empathise with the many older couples whose sex lives literally dry up when the male is beset medically by erection problems as he ages.

This predicament was heart breakingly revealed to me by a longtime buddy of mine, Rob, married to a wonderful loving wife, Evelyn, but their relationship almost broke up … all because his cock stopped responding the way it always had when aroused and she couldn’t deal with that.

As I researched his predicament, I learned that it is a very common problem for men around the world today. While 70% of men in their 70’s will have moderate Erectile Dysfunction, many find help by taking a Viagra, Cialis or Levitra tablet whenever they want an erection. But 5% of men as young as 40 have complete ED, rising to one in six men by the age of 70 that can find little help.

After Rob related his ED problem to me, I then listened to Evelyn’s reaction to all of this. I have known her just as closely and for as long … I wanted to hear how the wife deals with the almost overnight shut off of regular penetrative sex. Not well, I was to learn.

I found that she expressed frustrations as extensive and devastating as his … they had been an intensely sexual couple that thrived on regular sex activity. She admitted struggling big time with the loss of the regular fucking that had constantly energised her body for forty years.

She was blatantly honest with me, so I have written this story from her perspective, how she attempts to remain compassionate to his frustrations while dealing with the abrupt end of the regular sex she enjoyed for decades, stolen from her … cold turkey. All the more disheartening because she had no part in his cock simply giving up.

At times, this story is sad and emotional, it’s not for everyone, definitely NOT for the wham-bam thank you mam enthusiasts who expect a woman to lay on her back and accept whatever the male dishes out to her. It should be an eye-opener for those who naively believe that a man’s sexual capabilities will never change, no matter how old he gets to be … the men who will one day age into this condition yet claim ‘it won’t happen to me.’

This couple pursued every option offered by doctors from his taking tablets to self-injecting a needle directly into his penis, even testosterone supplements and Chinese herbal remedies. The last straw is when, in desperation, they consider the risky option of finding a surrogate to maintain for Evelyn, the sex life to which she is accustomed. Their fucking had been as routine and regular as eating three meals a day or going to the shops … and then, NOTHING.

Chapter One

Evelyn’s Story

I think back now, trying to recall when we first experienced this change in our sex life. It was one morning in bed, Rob trying to lovingly wake me with one of his preferred dawn-busters as he’d done for decades, only that day his cock didn’t respond the way his brain did … expecting to slide into me to give me one of our wonderful morning glories. His lips and tongue suckling on my nipples while his caressing fingers got my pussy wet, expertly stirring both my clit and g spot before mounting me, ready to insert. Usually, he slowly built up until we were testing our hearts with a hard driving thrusting pounding that nine times out of ten resulted in my thrilling rolling orgasm before he pumped his still potent seed into my now barren uterus.

Yes, I have passed my fertile use-by date … I am 58 and I have been married to this wonderful guy for 36 years. He’s a few years older, having reached 63. The five-year gap is meaningless now although a few family members questioned how sure I was when I began dating Rob seriously at 19 and he was 24.

Did his troubles begin with his enlarged prostate early last year? He had the operation known as TURP where the doctor inserts a tiny drill up through the eye of his cock and shaved out all of the surplus matter from his prostate that had grown so big it was impinging on the tube through which he delivered his pee from the bladder to the toilet bowl.

That description didn’t phase me but I recall Rob’s eyes watered when the doctor first described how the procedure would occur. I guess that all men will relate to disliking the prospect of something mechanical working its way up in there where, for all his 63 years, he has peed from, and for around 50 he has propelled semen from. Copious amounts of the latter, as I recall, on each occasion when he was impregnating me to procreate. We created three great kids through that time using his reliable erection to deliver that semen. They’re all grown up, married and moved away now, so there’s just us. Still both in love, we have Ankara travesti each other and we mutually look out for the other and hope that we may have another twenty to thirty years left in us.

The doctor says he warned Rob at the time of the TURP procedure that a side effect could be some problems afterwards in maintaining sexual activity. We’re not sure now how clearly he enunciated erection difficulties. Rob was more concerned that he might end up shooting blanks, that his testes may lose the ability to manufacture the cum that he had, over decades of marriage, so proudly sprayed into my pleasure passage more than 7,000 times … his estimate. Not to mention down my throat too whenever I felt particularly close to my husband and took his hard cock into my slurping mouth to suck on vigorously until he delivered a special treat for me.

There have now been so many failed attempts over the past six months that I can’t precisely recall my reaction that first time when he climbed on top after getting me all warmed up, my juices running like a tap (faucet for Americans). I lay on my back with my legs spread wide, eager to be about to receive his hot hard shaft and the delicious sensations that came with it as he thrust it in and out of my pleasure passage.

I think our first difficult time went something like this. Rob seemed to be taking an unusual amount of time to get his hard-on up inside me and I became very impatient … I can be where sex is concerned — I know what I like and when I’m ready, just give it to me, hard and strong. I’ve always been that way.

“Come on Rob, for God’s sake, stop fucking around. I want you inside me NOW.” I could feel it there, pushing around at my opening but he wasn’t delivering. “Oh God honey, what’s taking so long, put it in now? Damn, you woke me up and got me so primed for a big one … just put the fuckin’ thing in.” We hadn’t had sex for about three weeks, Rob having been warned to go easy and let his cock recover from having that mechanical drill carve its way up inside his tool.

“I’m trying honey, but it’s not working. Give me a minute.”

“What do you mean not working … no excuses honey, just do it!”

I think back now to how thoughtless I would have sounded, but I had no idea of the problems that lay ahead for us. After three weeks without, I was climbing the walls, craving a solid hard shafting. The last time we’d gone without sex for a whole three weeks was most likely when our third child was born … that was 29 years ago. We didn’t not do it, both still hot-blooded sex fanatics despite our mature years.

I felt Rob squeezing the head of his cock into my opening but I hadn’t felt it like this before. The damn thing was soft and spongy and no matter how hard he tried, it just wouldn’t slide on in … not enough starch in it, no rigidity. “Oh God Rob, what’s the matter? Don’t tell me you can’t get it up?”

“I don’t think I can honey. You know me, mentally I am so ready for it, but the fuckin’ thing won’t get hard.”

“Why start something you can’t finish?” Did I really say that to him? Yes, I know now, months later, how insensitive I sounded. I realise how embarrassed and frustrated he would have been. I had revered him as a stud — my stud – for all of the 39 years that I had known Rob … we’d never had the slightest inkling of a problem such as this. In our younger days, I only needed to give him a special look with my eyes and his cock would spring up, ready to perform.

He kept fumbling and fiddling, I could feel his fingers at my pussy, obviously doing everything he could think of in his panic to make his limp cock hard enough to push up inside of me. Primed and ready to receive my first solid fuck in weeks, I was less than impressed. “Just stop Rob, I am not enjoying this. Get off me … we can try again later.” I rolled away, my back to him, hearing him express his favourite curse words.

I pretended to drop back to sleep but there was no way my mind would let me. A million thoughts raced through my head, is this a consequence of his prostate op and is it the way it will be from now on? If so, why bother having it? What are we going to be able to do about it? He’s never had a problem getting hard before … even at 63. I wonder if Viagra could help? He’s never needed any outside help to give me good sex.

After wrestling with my thoughts for a half-hour or so, I turned around to see what Rob was doing. He was laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. I ran my eyes down along his naked body … he slept that way most nights. I used to joke that he did so that he’d be ready to go, rising as the sun rose. He had one hand loosely draped over his cock that lay floppy. He was a sad sight and I began to feel bad for scolding him in the middle of his distress. It’s just that I’d been so horny, way overdue for his usually great hot sex

Coming to my senses, I realised he’d be just as horny, just as ready as Antalya travesti me, given how frequently we still enjoyed sex … at least five times a week, even at our mature ages. “I’m sorry Rob, I didn’t mean to shout at you, I was just frustrated that it was taking so long, and then finding that it wasn’t even hard. Why did you start something before it was hard?”

“Evelyn, honestly I wouldn’t have started kissing and touching you if I’d had the slightest doubt that I couldn’t get it up. It all felt normal to that point.”

“Are you saying it was hard then?”

“Err no, not exactly! But it felt like it was on its way. I didn’t notice anything different until I climbed on to put it into you and then I realised there was nothing there.”

“So Rob, is this going to be a problem, what went wrong? Do you think your prostate operation caused this, is this how it’s going to be from now on?”

“How the hell do I know?” he barked at me, then seeing the shocked look on my face, he tempered his anger, “Who knows honey, it’s as much of a surprise to me as it obviously is to you too.”

“Do you want me to use my hand … I mean I’d give you a blow job but there’s not even much to suck on.”

“Thanks heaps!”

“I’m sorry, but see for yourself darling, it’s a real mister floppy.”

“Yes, I know. Better leave me alone honey, I need some time to think about it.”

“Ok then, I’m going to take a shower. Leave me alone too, don’t think of coming in to join me unless it miraculously gets hard. I need to take care of business in my own way while I’m under the warm water with soap in my hand.”

He never got a belated hard-on and I did take care of business for myself. It ended up being quite a long shower as I used my fingers to roll over and around my clit, even needed to bring two fingers on my other hand into play, pushing them up into my bum to add some alternate stimulation. While I enjoyed a strong orgasm that temporarily relieved the lustful longings in my body, it would be the first day of so many from then on where what I most desired was to feel a solid core of rock hard man meat thrusting deep into my pleasure passage.

Rob went to see our family doctor late that afternoon, unburdening himself of our new problem. The GP immediately diagnosed the difficulty my husband had experienced that morning as the two words that horny men everywhere dreaded hearing … erectile dysfunction.

The doc explained that in all men from the age of 50, erections begin to be not quite as strong. Hence, Viagra was accidentally discovered to help and 70% of men with ED problems can restore their hard erections.

Rob sought a quick fix by taking the prescribed tablets known as PDE5 inhibitors that relaxed his muscles and improved his blood flow to the area where it was needed most. Quite expensive for a packet, but they seemed to work — initially. The main brand gave us only a few hours so reluctantly we gave up our occasional all day and all night sessions. The doc switched Rob to another similar product … erections lasted longer, he could get it up two days running but he got side effects. They brought out his ongoing back pains, making them more severe over the 36 hours that the tadalafil compound was in his body.

So, these tablets gave Rob the chance to present hard erections at my pussy portal again. For a time, it seemed we may have solved the erectile dysfunction difficulty, albeit in a quite expensive way. In fact, our sex life improved just long enough that we were lulled into what turned out to be a false security. Then, one morning, the tablet-induced erection lasted just long enough for Rob to get his hard-on deep inside me, only for it to fade to limp even before he could begin serious thrusting.

Damn! We deduced that he must be one of the thirty per cent that were failed by the PDE5 inhibitor tablet treatment method. Back to the doc … he ruled out testosterone shots but did suggest an injection procedure. The doc could inject a needle filled with a solution called Caverject directly into the side of Rob’s cock, but then he’d need to hurry home in the small time window it which it took effect. I’d have to be naked and ready, laying on my back in bed, lubed up, so we could take advantage of the one-hour potent period.

Actually, the doc taught Rob how to self-inject so he could get to me with a hard one quicker. Even suggested I could wield the needle, but as much as I seriously wanted him hard again, I couldn’t bring myself to stick a needle into his cock and I’m not usually the squeamish type.

Again, a very costly procedure and we needed some fine tuning on what dose to try. Initially, his dose was too high and one day he stayed hard for six hours. I had to take him to Emergency at the hospital for help to get it down. We had two great sessions while he was big but we had to accept the dose being reduced because Rob having erections for too long could İstanbul travesti have been detrimental to his health.

Self injecting also worked for a while but eventually Rob seemed to fall into the 20% that don’t get hard from an injection. Our GP offered to send Rob to a urologist who could operate to insert an implant into Rob’s groin, that, at the touch of a button buried around the perineum (that patch between a man’s testes and his arse), would cause his cock to erect so we could fuck with it, and then, a second button press would deflate it back to floppy. Another no guarantee solution and neither of us liked the concept of fiddling with that sensitive part of his body structure by implanting a foreign object.

Every known medical treatment had failed us and we were becoming really desperate. Why us, we had always been such a crazy hot sexual couple and we simply wanted that life back. We had been deprived of the ability to roll together in bed, turn each other on, and have our body parts function the way they should. Me wet and he hard — it had always been so simple.

One night, as we lay in bed reflecting, as we did so often now, on how much I missed his rampant erections, Rob threw me an unexpected suggestion. “Honey, what if we could find a discreet, clean handsome man to look after your needs, say once a week?”

I had been reading a book … or actually holding it up in front of my face, pretending to read while my mind was filled with memories of how good the man alongside me used to make me feel. That happened to me a lot these days, making me very wet as I reflected on the hot sex we once had. Had I heard my husband right?

In shock at such an astonishing suggestion, I dropped the book on my chest, my head spun to stare into Rob’s eyes, trying to read in them whether he was serious or simply being funny. There was no humour in the eyes that stared back at me, “I’m guessing when you say needs, you’re talking sex needs, right? You look like you’re serious?”

“I am,” he said, his eyes watching me intently for my reaction.

“And just where do you expect to find this perfect man?”

“Well, I had thought of suggesting my brother.”

“What, your older or younger brother?”

“Err, the older, I doubt that young Jerry would make an ideal subject.”

“You’re right about that, you know how he chases everything in a skirt. My God, the biggest problem would be catching an STD from him. You know he boasts at every family gathering about how many women he’s bedded that week.”

“Yeah, I know. Honey, there was no way I was suggesting him.”

“So you have Jim in mind? Darling, he’s three years older than you, he might have a similar problem for all you know. Besides that, he is still married.”

“Yes, but not such a great marriage these days.”

“Darling, whether it is or not, he still has a wife to consider. Are you planning to have her in the loop or ask him to secretly do me on the side?”

“I haven’t thought it through fully honey, it’s just a wild idea that came to me because it hurts me to see how frustrating it is for you that I can’t get hard anymore.”

I reached a hand out to affectionately touch his arm, “That’s thoughtful of you darling, but I can’t see Jim being up to the type of hot sex you and I have always enjoyed. My guess is he’d be totally missionary.”

“You’re probably right, you usually assess people well, so back to the drawing board.”

“I do appreciate you thinking of my pleasure and how I’m coping. You can probably see how tense I am these days.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that.”

Nothing more was said about approaching his older brother. I think I put that idea to bed quickly. But about a week later, similar scenario, both of us in bed, reading. Rob turned to me, “Honey, I think that I may have found him.”

“What? Found who, what on earth are you talking about?”

“A discreet, clean handsome man to look after your needs … err, sexual needs … you remember my suggesting it last week.”

“I recall you suggesting your brother.”

“Yes, I did … we dealt with that, it wouldn’t work.”

Rob sounded excited.

“So who is this man you’ve found?”

“A perfect man to help us out … well, help you out.”

“Have I ever said I wanted helping out?”

“You haven’t, but it’s obvious that we can’t go on like this. I’m resigned now to never getting hard again but you’ve always been such a hot woman. I know you are burning up inside at not feeling a hard cock inside you any more.”

“Rob, I’d be lying if I said I don’t miss that terribly, but this idea sounds too drastic. Anyway, who is this person, what makes you think he’d be remotely interested in this hare-brained scheme?”

“A member of the golf club … he played in our foursome today. I’d never played with him before but he is such a nice guy, very polite, even a bit shy. I pictured him as just the type of guy you’d approve of if I can persuade you to try out my plan.”

“I hope you haven’t said anything to him already, have you?”

“No, of course not honey, I wouldn’t bring up the subject with him until I had run it by you first.”

“Thank goodness for that. So tell me, how does your plan work?”

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