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  • Writer's pictureBDSAIME

Penis peril

September or October 2018, I can't really recall. I am naked, in the comfortable bed of a woman I met a few weeks before. First discovered as a pro-domme with whom I was discussing business, it quickly went into a more personal sphere.

Things had gone very quickly for me at that time; so much so that I naively thought I was getting out of my depression. A few months earlier, I had almost been run over by a bus - I crossed the street not seeing that the little guy was red, my eyes clouded with tears that I was trying to hold back. I thank the driver's attention and the good braking. Though I consider myself as a born-tired, I must admit that this tiredness was of a new kind to me. Still, that depression, at that time of my life, is one of the best things that could have happened to me; however, I am glad to be able to talk about it in the past tense.

Anyway - I am in the bed of this woman who seemed to like me a lot, to my entire surprise. I couldn't say if I woke up very often during the night, or if I didn't really fell asleep. I had a very bad night, like almost every time I had to sleep in the same bed as someone else. I can feel her pulse echoing through the mattress, it drives me crazy. I'm despairing, staring at her fridge. Very quickly, I find myself enjoying an improvised cheese sandwich, just under the closed eyes of my partner.

Earlier in the evening, it was with my eyes wide open that I had penetrated her, trying to respond to her enthusiasm. My concern to please someone else being stronger than my concern for myself, I had accepted this tense mission, certainly backwards. I don't know how to explain being a male who is not attracted by penetration, not more than by a woman's naked body and her sexual organ. This is also true for men. My attractions and my desires of physical pleasure are to be found elsewhere. I don't know how to deal with it, even if only towards myself; so trying to explain it to a newly met woman seems very, very ambitious to me. Crushed by the preponderance of female sexual issues - which is rightful, I don't feel legitimate to complain about these personal male issues, nor to talk about it.

Sometimes I even find myself wishing I had a micropenis, then things would be much clearer for everyone. Engaging in "conventional" sex physical relation with this woman was the last thing I wanted, but I'd been tricked on our first time, a few days before that cheese sandwich. She had climbed on my machine before I saw her coming. Stopping at the stage of physical embraces, scratches and hands on my face was fine with me, it satisfied me physically as much as it freed me mentally. The game of the little penetrating train is so far from my universe that I had not imagined for one second that it could be a logical and expected continuation of our body games. That's why I couldn't blame her - the anomaly, in an objective sense, was me. Once I entered her, I didn't feel much more than a feeling of embarrassment, even of measured disgust. But the harm was done, I had fallen into the trap of the one who has to live up to expectations, especially when you're 25, especially when you don't have a micropenis at all.

Knowing that she could obviously not be satisfied with my performance, I had then entered into a logic of performance, I had to do it again the following days. No desire to do it, no pleasure in doing it, not even that of a curiosity already satisfied a few years before. Nothing pushed me to this, if not the eternal image of the conquering and penetrating man, if not the fear of being rejected if I did not answer the firm and ribbed expectations projected on me.

Fortunately, she quickly understood that it wasn't my thing, but I was then considered as the one who couldn't do it, before being just a man who didn't want to, who didn't like it. The male always wants and asks for penetration: it is difficult for me to escape this cliché, even more difficult that I am not the "effeminate" type, another cliché often opposed to the first one, as if to clear the anomalies. Is a male who is interested in the female gender but does not want to penetrate it, truly a male?

My cheese sandwich finished, I wonder whether she will be mad at me when she finds out that I have assaulted her bread and killed her french cheese. Then, finally won over by a desire for comfort overcoming my desire for normality, I take a pillow, a blanket and fall asleep on the floor, far from any pulse, except mine. How good it feels. Finally, a little rest.

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