I’ve mentioned before that I don’t always achieve orgasm during sex with a partner. The reasons for this are depression and the medication I take to manage it. I can be fully aroused, I can be fully lost in that “moment” where I’m teetering on the brink. I can feel myself approaching that point of no return and then it’s gone.
It can be frustrating, but I’ve learned to live with it. It is generally the exception rather than the rule and, let’s be honest, if sex is the cake, orgasm is the icing on it and I’d much rather have cake without icing than no cake at all. Sex is to be enjoyed, reveled in with every sticky, slippery, squelching, slapping lick, thrust, gasp and groan that accompanies two bodies pleasuring each other. Every touch, every kiss, every caress, every lick, every suck, every thrust, hell, every moment is to be savoured and orgasm is simply one (or several) of the moments that combine to make the whole sexual experience.
Well, maybe kind of; but if I have, it has been fakery by omission rather than commission. I shall explain…
Given that my illness and the medication I take to manage it has been such a major part of my life for so long (three decades and counting), I have always been very open about it. This has included the effects it can sometimes have on my sexual performance. I’ve always maintained that communication is key and being honest about what might or, occasionally, might not happen takes a lot of pressure off in terms of expectation. Even despite this openness, one partner still later expressed disappointment that I was now her only ever blow-job “fail”. It wasn’t an accusation on on her part, and there was no doubting how much I enjoyed her efforts and determination to avoid me becoming that statistic, but it wasn’t to be.
And this is why it is important to be open about such things. No one should feel that they have “failed” in any way and, for the avoidance of any doubt, the absence of one particular element in no way constitutes a failing on either partner’s part. If there was a “failing” at all, it was simply that somewhere in my brain, the necessary synapses couldn’t achieve a strong enough connection to transmit one signal to one part of my brain. Every other synapse was going into overdrive, my pleasure centres were fully active, it’s simply that one particular message had the misfortune of being transmitted by the neural equivalent of Yodel and never made it to its destination.
So the faking it bit. Well, in that particular instance, it was very obvious by the lack of a more than well earned load of cum in her mouth that I hadn’t climaxed. Sometimes though, it doesn’t happen during penetration. Sometimes the message goes astray and I eventually run out of steam before it gets delivered. If, for whatever reason, I’m asked, I will admit that it was one of those, “so near yet so far” situations. If I’m not asked, I won’t mention it as it really isn’t important. With the majority of my partners, condoms have always been worn, so really there is no physical evidence as to the presence or absence of my orgasm left behind and, in most instances, my body goes through all the motions apart from that final release.
So, the simple truth of the matter is, I will answer truthfully if asked, but I won’t volunteer the information if not. To me it really isn’t a big deal. Orgasms are fantastic, and the fact that sometimes I can’t have one just makes me enjoy them all the more when they do happen. When they don’t happen, it in no way means that I suddenly didn’t enjoy everything that I’d quite clearly been enjoying up until that point. As I said at the beginning, sex is the cake, orgasm is the icing and, with or without icing, I really like cake.