A friend of mine recently brought up the topic of guys in bed.  As you do.  Anyway, we got onto normal behaviour – Like what is normal and what isn’t.  And if it’s normal for a guy to lose his, ummm, mojo during sex.

In all seriousness, however, there are circumstances when it’s “okay” when this happens.  But let’s be honest, a guy going soft is only good after sex.  And you know as well as anyone, that sex without a hard-on is pretty damn difficult.  But not all hope is lost.  And I don’t mean dusting off the old buzz-maker.  There are reasons why it happens, which means you’ll be able to fix it.

Now, there are two cases here:  The during and the before.  They’re unlikely to be affected by all the reasons. So figure yours out quickly so you can be back in there. *cough*

Reasons guys go soft are pretty simple and logical.  And I hope I’ve got them all here:

Drugs – This includes alcohol, and is probably the most common amongst young adults with all the drinking and pot taking.  But this also includes medicinal drugs that will effect your erection status.  Things like blood thinners are probably not a good idea if you’re trying to impress someone for the first time.  Neither is a week’s worth of mary jane.  Just saying.

Stress – This will affect guys of all ages.  If you’re that stressed out, sometimes a good bed session will help, but sometimes your mind is so far away, that it’ll just make things worse.  Work on getting your brain together.  Thing will be okay.

Fatigue – Purely tired.  Worn out.  It’s simple, and possibly the easiest thing to fix with a good night’s rest.  And morning sex is a great way for you to make it up to the ladies.

Guilt – A big one.  The guy is feeling iffy about something he’s done.  Be it cheating, lying or eating that extra piece of cake.  Whatever it is.  If you’re feeling guilty, get it off your chest.

Inadequacy – This may be caused by a number of things.  If she’s abusing you in some way, or if you’ve got the impression you’re just not big enough.  But relax, as long as you know what you’re doing.  And if she’s beating you around either physically or emotionally, and it doesn’t get you off, then run.

He’s just not into you – I’m sorry, but not all guys are shallow and able to shag anything that walks.  If you’re not his type, then it’s gonna be hard.  Well, not really.

The crux of the matter is that it happens.  Even to the best of us.  It really does.  And as confident as you think you are, it’s going to happen to you.  And will probably affect you more because you’re so arrogant about it.  So keep it chilled and try take it easy when it does happen – That goes for the both of you.  Don’t take it too seriously.  If you do, it’ll only make it more uncomfortable.  Talk it through.  Understand each other, and you’ll be fine.

Related Posts:

• A Little Something About The Rebound-Girl
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Now, I have tried on numerous occasions to write this without telling a story, but that has proven to be very difficult. Anyway, it’s a little long, but please bear with me, as I finally get it out.

A lot of people will tell you that one of the best ways to get over an ex is to jump into bed with who ever will have you.  This has it’s obvious benefits, but it has just as many negatives.

As most of you might know, my break up came to me as a bit of a surprise.  Yes, there were the problems that we were both very aware of, and the fact that she was moving to a new city played a huge role in it, but that exact reason was what I thought would keep us together until the very last possible moment.  It wasn’t to be, and I found myself hanging on.  (This is something I feel is quite obvious, though.  The person that is the one left clutching at straws will always have some hope… Blah blah blah). Anyway, about a month later, I was chatting to this girl online.  We’ll call her ‘RBG’. We were friends of friends and have never met but had occasionally chatted via the mass emails that were sent over Gmail. I actually thought she was a bit freaky.  In the state I was in, there was little that was better than staying at home every night and spending large amount of time online doing nothing in particular.

It started very simply, one night:

22:16 RBG: Why on earth are you online at this time of night?

That night, we spoke for an hour. 240 lines long. A week later, the conversations spanned over 600 lines. RBG and I started chatting a lot more.  We got on really well with each other.  Sent a couple of photos to each other.  Told each other secrets.  She had recently broken up with her long term boyfriend.  She was the perfect distraction.  I had started feeling myself again.   A day after 600 lines, I went over to her place with a bottle of wine.  We had officially met.  We watched a movie, ate chocolate and drank rather large glasses of wine.  All was well.  And it ended very well.  I stayed over there that night and it pretty much took off from there.  I was the perfect person.  I made her dinner.  I did the dishes when she cooked.  I made her smile and laugh.  And, I made her sweat,  I left her wanting more.  I was so excited by her.  I told my friends about her.  She even took me to a ballet, and I went with no second thought.  I tried to make her happy.  She, after all, was also going through one or two bad things too.  We were both aware of the dangers after just getting out of a relationship.  And I certainly was not ready for anything crazy deep.  But what we had was awesome.  And now, SHE left me wanting more.  This was surprising.  This was good.  This, all the while, trying to forget the ex.

And it was working too.  Until the ex called.  She needed something one night, and she didn’t know who else to call.  Generally, I am the guy that friends would call when they’re in a spot, and I would help out without thinking about it.  I had no problem with it.  Now, that, along with the fact that my ex now was wanting to see me, had me out there helping without any hesitance in 5 seconds flat.

This is where The Ex and I sort of started talking again. It had been about 7 or 8 weeks since we had broken up and I was quite happy not talking to her.  But I missed her.   And, you still have that little bit of something that tells you she wants you back.  She broke up with me, of course I thought she had some inkling to get back together.  But that really was never my intention.  It was over and I had completely accepted that. Then why the hell was I fixing things?  Why did we start talking again?  Why did we try so damn hard?!  It always seems worth, but now, isn’t hindsight the most wonderful thing.

RBG and I had been seeing each other for a couple of months and it was amazing. Everything I did with her was great.  Every second was worth it.  I never wanted to be anywhere else or with anyone else.  It was a tough time, though. We were both writing exams and had other things happening.   But this was when my head told me that I wasn’t ready to a relationship.  “STOP!  What the fuck are you doing?!  You are bruised and broken and here you are putting yourself in a vulnerable position! Idiot!”

“But it made me feel better!” I tried to reason.   But no, my brain took over and started to affect the relationship RBG and I had.  I stopped trying, and stopped being so affectionate.  But I still loved being around her and with her.  And then I lied to The Ex.  I had told her that I hadn’t been with anyone, thinking that this would tell her how weak I was and how much she should know I needed her.  Again, blah blah blah! Whatthefuck was I thinking?!  In reality, I think I needed to know if she had been with anyone.  But no one should ever have that knowledge.  It will only cause more damage than good.   I think this is a good time to point out that RBG knew I was seeing the ex, and this made things very difficult.  She was uncomfortable with it, and I could see it in her face, yet she never really said anything.

I kept seeing RBG for a another couple of weeks or so after that day at The Ex’s.  A bit later, I was seeing The Ex again, and somehow, my lie had reared it’s ugly head.  There were a lot of tears.  I then had to explain a lot.  Some things I wouldn’t have ordinarily told her.  Things about RBG – Like how long and if I had feelings for her. She said it was for me lying to her, that all her trust had disappeared and she didn’t think we could ever be friends.  These were not the words I ever wanted to hear, especially after we were so cautious to be friends again. After much arguing and trying to calm her, we eventually found a sort of middle ground.  I can’t really explain it now, because I’m not entirely sure I understood it all – I mean, I was still confused as to why we had broken up in the first place.

The next day, RBG was leaving. She had finished varsity and was moving back home to a land far far away.  Things with her and I had to end.  She was moving away, only to be seen when she came back to pack up her house. We spoke and both knew we needed to end things. So we did. Right?  She was clearly very attached, and I knew it too.  But so was I.  We eventually said goodbye with a kiss. Reality is too complex to let it end there.  We continued to sms each other messages and chatted regularly.  The time came and she was coming back to Cape Town.  I tried not to kiss her, but resistance was futile.  It only went as far as that kiss but the next day, I slapped her with the news that I would be driving across the country with The Ex to move her back to her home.  Things were not well and we stopped talking completely. But this was what I wanted and needed right?  To get that emotional worry and burden out my life while I still so raw from the last one.  (Just for the record, nothing happened between The Ex and me on the drive.  Nothing at all.  Can someone be the first to believe it?)

I’m not sure what happened but she eventually stopped being angry at me and we chatted once or twice.  She told me she would be back here for new years.  I was apprehensive but the day came and I was actually going to go.  It was at a house in a town about an hour outside here.  I had met the host once but there were a few close friends going and they convinced me to go.  I mean, what else could I do?!    A few of the group, some of which I had never met, went through a few days before. This few included RBG.  So I drove there in my car.  Things were weird.   Very uncomfortable, but I was determined to be okay with it and we would see how things would go.  We all took a walk down to the beach.  It was there that I noticed RBG and The Host.  There was definitely something there.  I’m not blind (really).  I saw it.  And it upset me.  I was furious.  Who did this guy think he was?!  And seriously, what was her aim in this whole thing?

I tried to put it aside, I even invited her to go to the shops with me to talk it out, but she declined.  Things were still very weird with us.  So I left the house and tried to make myself feel better. It didn’t work.  I was a little shocked that I even felt this way in the first place.  I wasn’t the one who was supposed to have these feelings.  I was clearly in this more than I had ever realised.

We eventually got the balls to sit down and talk about it.  Alcohol is good for some things.  She told me that she missed me and I told her the same.  She kissed me, and I kissed her back.  She then stops and tells me that she can’t and needs to go back to the party.  Things are a little better.  She tells me that we need to try and enjoy ourselves. Pah!  Simple, hey.  We leave her room and go our separate ways.  She goes back to The Host, and at least she tries to be discrete about it.  He looks at me.  I tell him with my eyes that she really wants to be with me, and you’re just a lame second.  Oh yes, you’re an asshole too.

We do our own thing, but I don’t feel any better.  I tell a friend about it, and he hates the guy with me.  Calls her a bitch too.  Haha.  It’s the little things, I guess.  RBG and I try and play is cool, but that doesn’t seem to be working, and we found ourselves in her room again.  We kiss again.  All over each other, but someone breaks the kiss.  She looks upset, and starts to cry.  I don’t quite know what to do, but we talk it out for a little bit, before she looks deeply into my eyes and tells me that she’s fallen in love with me.  I’m pretty much speechless at this stage, and I don’t really know what do do or say.  I remember kissing her again.  We talk for a little bit more about how much of an idiot I have been and how things may have been different.  She again leaves, saying that she can’t do this, even thought she so desperately wants to as she has spent he last few weeks trying to repair herself.  She tells me that I crushed her.  She leaves to go back to The Host, and I avoid her.  I get really angry.  Frustrated.  Lost. Mad. You name it.  And this cocky, womanising fuck with his condescending smirk, just being there.

So the friend and I got high.  It was quite possibly the best thing I could do.  I tried to stay away and pretend.  But I knew I couldn’t.  And so did she.  We didn’t speak again that night.  When sleep finally called me, I found myself a couch and closed my eyes, hoping for it to come soon.  Instead, all I could hear were sounds.  Not sounds you ever want to hear.  Sounds of her with him.  Sounds that make you want to be sick.  Even a year later, they still make me sick.  It’s something I will never forget.

The next day went quickly.  I left the instant I could, and that was that.  We didn’t speak for a long time.  But when we finally did, she wanted to know why I was so upset.  So I told her.  She had no idea what had happened.  Didn’t help the fact that it hurt so much.  Didn’t change anything.  She left a few weeks later to the UK, and I wanted nothing to do with her.  But I forgive people too easily.  Never forgetting.  I will never forget.  This year has been hard, but it’s another thing that has helped me grow.  I forgave her and a few months later we were talking again.  Things were okay.  I was over it. Mostly.  Yet, ironically, I missed her a lot.  Can’t explain why, but it just is.  I don’t know if I ever loved her, but she’s a really lovely person that just helped in the whole process.   I know I hurt her.  But she hurt me too. In saying that, I think she and I will be really good friends one day, if not already.

So, there I sat, months later, missing RBG.  A lot. I tried to tell her too.  In fact, I did tell her.  I used those exact words, but whether it was the wall she had put up to protect herself, or she just didn’t care anymore, but I didn’t get the response I was looking for.  Using another cliché, you never know what you have until it’s gone. And the cherry on top, the grass is always greener on the other side. Always.

Related Posts:

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• A Little Bit About Being Single
• A Little Something About The Last Few Months
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A friend recently told me that nice guys finish last.  Ah yes, the old adage that every nice guy clings to to give himself an excuse.  But, we’re all grown up now, we’re not 16.  The girls have also grown up now and make better decisions and realise how silly they were in their youth. Ha ha, if only.  The thing is, though, nice guys do finish last. But that’s if you’ve been looking at it the wrong way.  You’re seeing it as the 100m sprint, or more appropriately, a T20 cricket match.  No people, this is the Test match arena. The ultra marathon time.  If you are a nice guy, and I mean, a sincere and honest nice guy, the chances are pretty damn good that you finish that marathon with the gold.  And if you pick up a few trophies along the way, then well done.  You see, even my friend was wrong.  He got the girl.  The girl that was seeing him.  While she was dating her boyfriend of two years.  Hmmmm, he is my friend, but doesn’t that situation stop him being a nice guy?

I was officially bootie called tonight. I had turned off my lights, was quite ready for sleep, until the overly loud cell phone said otherwise.  I went there because I thought I needed to snap out of this trance I’ve been in lately where I’m expecting things to just drop into my lap, but maybe it had?

[I think I should interject and give you a brief background of Jessica* and I.  We hooked up a few years ago while I was in and out of a relationship, and it sort of continued around like that.  But you know how girls are, [*snigger*], and she soon wanted more where I was not in a position to give it to her. So things ended, and ever since then, she has always attempted to hook up, but as I had a girlfriend, that was never going to happen.]

Cue single life. And it was time to start being single.  Off I went to Jess’ house, where she still stays with her parents, mind you, at the age of 22. Now, being a nice guy, I make chitchat, and wait for her to make the first move, which she does.  After some heavy petting, and a few fingers being misplaced, she was quite content with the decision she had made.  But that’s when things got weird. You know how you just know. Well I knew. She was right back to wanting more again.  Now, because I am a nice guy, I chose to leave it at that, and not try to do anything else.  Maybe this was more of a self preservation thing.

I didn’t go over there to be a dick, fuck and run. I enjoy what I do, so I do it well, but I don’t expect the girl to fall in love with me because of it. And don’t get me wrong, there was no sex, but then why was she like this?  Yes, I am a genuinely nice guy.  No, I really don’t have any ulterior motives.  But please stop and think.  I do not want anything serious. Full stop. The thing is though, I wasn’t freaked out, surprised, or anything.  I simply handled the situation, let her feel whatever she had to feel, made more non-sensical chitchat, and when she was ready for sleep, I left.

I had a bit of time to think on the drive home, and I’m not feeling shit about it, or bad in anyway.  I think I really needed to do it for myself, and even though nothing came out of it, I think it’ll help with me learning how to do this whole single life thing.  Is that selfish?  I don’t care anymore.  This time is my time, I do what I have to do.  So, despite the convenience of having a bootie call when you need it, your selection needs to be right first time.  I mean, what’s the point of a bootie call if you’re not getting anything out of it. It should be hot, and sweaty and full of moans and you leave with a smile.   I don’t feel like an ass, and I hope she realises that if she calls again, I will have to tell her ‘no’ because there are feelings involved.  That is the sensible thing to do, ’cause I’m a nice guy…

* No names were changed in this post to protect the privacy of those above-mentioned subjects.   Jessica is actually her real name

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