SexyPrime, a blog by Susan Crain Bakos

DYING, THE END GAME, Part Seventeen--Coping Strategies

Art Image:  "Elegant Lady" by ximarah on Photobucket

 

Feeling the lumps beneath my skin grow and spread puts an entirely new spin on that phrase ticking biological clock—the cancer version.  When I began this journey, I could not understand why so many people choose radical treatment against all logic.  That still would never be my choice, but I have developed some insight into why many people beg, Do everything, when everything in the end signifies nothing.

Why do they not ask how much good time treatment will give them before they submit to the tortures? 

Railing against an intruder into the body is natural instinct.  Rip out the alien growth and feel better.  Or so one hopes.  “Fighting”, or the idea of it, is exhilarating.  But cast aside the knife, lie down with cancer, train yourself to grow still at the core—and hear the backbeat of the clock ticking off your hours.

Most people only know one behavior style for dealing with terminal illness:  Cry it out with family and friends.  Isn’t emotional sharing a big part of Oprah’s legacy?  This major emo style became popular in America because even idiots can blubber and talk in clichés while thinking themselves “sensitive.”  All that sharing drowns out the backbeat.  They don’t hear cancer’s clock

I refuse to submit to the will of the lowest common denominator, to sink into the false comfort of denial, where the pillows lump on contact.  Yes, I do have my coping strategies but they don’t include meltdowns.

People say, “You look so good.”  Roughly translated, that means I am neither bald nor wasted.  They apply lower standards for looking good to me now.  For some friends, seeing me in a rosy light is their form of denial.  They don’t want me to go, not yet, not so soon.  As long as I look “good,” they can secretly hope the cancer will go away like a bad cold.

Obviously I enjoy the compliments; and I never see anyone without make-up.  I credit Benefit products, Lemon Aide that evens the color of eye lids all the way up to the eyebrow, brightening as it does so—and  Erase Paste, a miracle cover-up that hides dark circles and softens lines.  Looking good is the first coping strategy.

Friends also say, “You have an amazing spirit” or “a great attitude” or “such strength and courage.”  No.  They imbue me with those qualities. 

From the beginning, I filtered out the tear mongers, the cancer curious, the judgmental, the people with poorly hidden agendas—i.e., Come stay with me and help me write my book, wouldn’t that be fun?—and later, the conniving relative and the simply boring.

I am left surrounded by positive people, who accept and respect my choices, are interesting conversationalists and can make me laugh.  Feeling connected to good people and laughing with them is the best coping strategy.

One night this past week, Lorraine’s and Mel's friend Sally joined us for dinner at their apartment.   Like Lorraine, Sally is a glamorous lady, smart and funny and open-hearted.  Mel brought the food to the coffee table.  We eat there now because I can’t sit on a dining chair, not even a nicely padded chair.  How I wish my bony white woman’s ass were padded for pain, the bone-deep cancer pain radiating in waves to that ill-prepared ass.  But sitting in the plush brown chair, ice bags—Lorraine’s idea— around my hips, talking and laughing with these wonderful people, I don’t feel pain.

Wrestling with some degree of pain every day in the waking part of my life.  I cope.  Blotting pain out entirely would cost me dearly in lost writing time, lost time with friends and the little grands—and you, dear reader.  How close we can come to people we have only “met” online!

Sometimes I curse the pain, my physical limitations, and, of course, the Republican presidential candidates, but Dying has given me many gifts—

 

IF YOU'VE MISSED THE PREVIOUS POSTS--

Dying, The End Game, Part One:  The First Day of the End of My Life

Dying, The End Game, Part Two:  I Gave Them Something To Talk About

Dying, The End Game, Part Three:  What About Sex?

Dying, The End Game, Part Four:  Secrets, Lies & The Relevance of Truth

Dying, The End Game, Part Five:  Money

Dying, The End Game, Part Six:  A Quickie on Questions People Ask

Dying, the End Game, Part Seven:  The Power and Glory of Breasts

 Dying, The End Game, Part Eight:  Ghosts, Spirits & Totems

 Dying, The End Game, Part Nine:  Why I Don't Want A Funeral?

Dying, The End Game, Part Ten:  In The Wee Small Hours of the Morning 

Dying, The End Game, Part Eleven:  Are You Partnered?  Are You Happy?

Dying, The End Game, Part Twelve:  Random Chance & Planned Exits

Dying, The End Game, Part Thirteen:  Regrets & The Movies

Dying, The End Game, Quality of Life

Dying, The End Game, Part Fifteen:  "How are you?"

 Dying, The End Game, Part Sixteen:  The Misanthrope, The Stone Frog, The Poisonous Toad and The Christmas Soldiers 

 

copyright 2008-2012, www.sexyprime.typepad.com; PARTIAL reposts only permitted with link back to original article on SexyPrime.

 

ASK AUNTIE SUE--A Greatest Hit & "Is my wife dysfunctional?"

Auntie Sue's legs, photo by Trent

 

I am still getting responses from my Christmas parable, "The Misanthrope, The Stone Frog. The Poisonous Toad and The Christmas Soldiers."

Apparently there is a plague of poisonous toads across the land.  Maybe every family has one. 

This reader’s comment made me giggle:

 “My brother married a poisonous toad.  When we met her, we thought she was loud, crude and bordering on white trash.  Now that we know her better, we know she is a chain-smoking, cursing, pill-popping, manipulative narcissist who cannot talk about anything but herself and how people have wronged her, unless, of course, she is taking the inventory of others in the most vulgar terms.  I’ve never heard her engaged in a discussion of ideas.  But I wouldn’t insult the white trash nation by sticking their label on her.

“Thanks for the reminder not to let the toads ruin the holidays.  Remember the Christmas soldiers!”

 

One of Auntie Sue’s greatest hits—

Q. “You seem to be telling women that they have to come during intercourse.  Doesn’t that go against the precepts of a pro-sex feminist such as yourself?  I don’t come during intercourse.  We tried using pillows, but nothing helps.  My husband gives me an oral orgasm and then we have intercourse for him.  What’s wrong with that?”  Becca, Melbourne, Australia.

A.  Nothing is “wrong” with what has become the standard lovemaking pattern of Western couples:  She comes first, he comes next.  Dr. Ian Kerner wrote two books based on that principle:  She Comes First; He Comes Next.  Catchy titles, no?  A suggested title for his next book:  He and She Are Really Bored With All That.

Let’s re-think intercourse.  It is not for men’s pleasure only.  Generally speaking, women love to be penetrated.  Even lesbians seek penetration through sex toys.  Who do you think founded those wonderful national sex toy stores, Babeland and Good Vibrations? 

So you love having him (or a reasonable facsimile of a penis) inside you.  Why not figure out how to have an orgasm in that position?  If you missed it yesterday, check out The O Man’s intercourse tips.  (And learn The Orgasm Loop.

As a pro-sex feminist unafraid to surrender to a man who knows what he is doing with my body, I say:  Intercourse can be wildly exciting and deeply satisfying for her as well as him.  Help him take you there.

 

A new question—

Q:  “My wife of ten years says she no longer desires me.  Though she is never ‘ready’ for sex, we do have it once a week.  Sometimes she gets very aroused, but she only comes if I finish her off.  Is she dysfunctional?  Is there a pill for that?”  Michael, St. Louis, MO.

A.  Michael, you may have seen that big Chicago study of several years ago concluding that 43% of women are dysfunctional.  I don’t think so.  Few women are truly dysfunctional but many are sexually dissatisfied.  They are ill-informed about male and female sexuality, uncomfortable in expressing their own desires, unable to communicate during sex, and may have poor sexual skills—as may their partner.  Also they likely believe that desire comes before arousal—as did most therapists a few decades ago—when, in fact, arousal most often precedes desire in women, especially in established relationships.

Is there a pill to fix this?  No.  Read my posts on the elusive pink pill.

What can “fix” the situation?  Engage her in more lively sex talk, for example, talking about fantasies or what you find sexy in movies.  Spend more time on her arousal. 

Erotic lovemaking begins outside the bedroom.  It’s a state of mind that you both create and sustain.  You should have Daily Sex Bible on hand.  It has 365 new ideas for everything from creating an erotic mood to kinky sex.

 

copyright 2008-2012, www.sexyprime.typepad.com; PARTIAL reposts only permitted with link back to original article on SexyPrime.

 

IS MONOGAMY HARDER ON MEN THAN WOMEN?

Photo Credit:  "Woman in Red" on Photobucket

 

"Monogamy is failing men.

"Not only is it failing them, but it's a 'socially compelled sexual incarceration' that can lead to a life of anger and contempt, or so says Eric Anderson, an American sociologist at England's University of Winchester,"  from "Why Men Cheat" by Vicki Larson on The Huffington Post.

My pal Steven Otero sent me the link to this article examining Anderson's book, The Monogamy Gap: Men, Love, and the Reality of Cheating (Oxford University Press.)  I'd scanned the book and found his conclusions reached in a study of 120 undergraduate men alternately disappointing and annoying. What do young men know about long-term monogamy?  But his analysis of monogamism, as reported by Larson, is compelling.  Too bad he includes women late in the story. 

I posit that monogamy is just as hard, if not more so, on women than men

People have been wrestling with the monogamy questions since society first decreed, Thou shalt not cheat on thy spouse.  Men can still have extramarital affairs with less consequences than women can.  We are still judged more harsly for our sexual behavior.  Larson notes that monogamy may be bad for men, but cheating has been good for them.  If the affair is undetected, they have exciting, illicit sex with the lover and stability and loving commitment with the wife.  (Can't the cheating wife enjoy the same benefits?)

Numerous studies have found women tire of monogamy faster than men do.  Women shut down when the sex becomes too routine and boring; men complain about it but they still want to get laid.  Generally women under-report extramarital affairs.  But studies and surveys are beginning to show cheating parity developing between the genders--with a British study last year suggesting women may cheat more.  Read my 2009 post:  "Do women cheat more than men?"

Monogamy is failing women too.

 

copyright 2008-2012, www.sexyprime.typepad.com; PARTIAL reposts only permitted with link back to original article on SexyPrime.

 

ASK AUNTIE SUE: A Greatest Hit Question & A Reader Reveals His Sexless Marriage Theory

Auntie Sue's legs, photo by Trent

 

 

My holiday parable, “The Misanthrope, The Stone Frog, The Poisonous Toad & The Christmas Soldiers”, struck a chord with readers. 

One reader wrote.  “I laughed at your Poisonous Toad, so like my aunt who has two subjects:  her acts of ‘mercy’ and her stories of people who have betrayed her.  She is Never Wrong; and the corollary holds true, nobody else is ever right.  What a pall she casts over holiday dinner.”

Next year, invite a few soldiers to the celebration. 

 

This Greatest Hit, Penis Slapping from the July 18, 2011 Ask Auntie Sue, generated a surprising volume of mail from men reporting penis abuse.

 

Q. “I still don’t know how it happened, but I have a wife.  One year.  She slaps my penis during sex if I do something she doesn’t like—and she doesn’t like a lot.  She’s a very religious woman.  Last night I was eating her out when I put my hand around my penis and started working the shaft.  She pulled my hand away, slapped my penis and said, ‘God doesn’t like that!’

“Can slapping cause injury to my manhood?  Sometimes she slaps hard.”  Carlos, 27, Mexico City.

A.  Yes, penis slapping can cause injury to your manhood and your penis.  Assert yourself.  Tell her she cannot touch your penis with any emotion other than love.  No more slapping.

As to the big question hanging over your letter, the one that you didn’t ask—What can you do about this marriage?—I see two options.   Pray daily for her sexual conversion or investigate a Catholic annulment.  Oh, I forgot:  I don’t believe in prayer.  Penis slapping might render you impotent and unable to have conception sex.  Isn’t that grounds for annulment?  How about spousal abuse?

I have a lawyer friend in Mexico City.  Do you want his number?

 

A psychologist from Switzerland, Jon, says he developed his theory of why some marriages are sexless while reading Ask Auntie Sue.

“I noted how often people who complain of ‘no sex’ or ‘not enough sex’ also mention that a spouse’s weight gain is an issue—or they cite the domineering wife or passive husband as a turn-off.  I theorize that the deadly combo of fat, demanding wife and passive/aggressive husband kills sexual desire in both spouses.

“I am developing the research protocol now and hope to have a book on the subject in three or four years.”

If you want to participate in Jon’s research, send me a note.  I will forward to him.

 

 

copyright 2008-2012, www.sexyprime.typepad.com; PARTIAL reposts only permitted with link back to original article on SexyPrime.

 

 

THE #1 HOLIDAY (OR DATE NIGHT) SEX TRICK--A Favorite Sex Wardrobe Basic

Photo Credit:  "Bandage Dress"

 

I love this Sex Wardrobe Basic:  The Tight Dress Quickie.  If you've ever hiked up a short fitted dress for a Quickie, you've experienced the uncomfortable feeling of dress turning into body bandage.  And that's not the good kind of bandage dress.  I found a way to take the hot road around the limitations of both fabric and time.

Holiday or date night sex often suffers from excess--of food and drink and expectations.  Have the sex before you go out, while you're still dressing for the evening.  Who knows?  You may be ready for more at the end of the celebratory night.

OTHER SEX WARDROBE BASICS

The Black Lace Boy Shorts Spank & Stroke

The Push-Up Bra Sex Tricks

The French Teddy Buttocks Play

The Black Silk Blouse Cleavage Game

The Flippy Skirt Quickie

THE BLACK LACE-TOPPED THIGH HIGHS INTERCOURSE TRICKS

 The Boyfriend Jeans Mutual Hand Jobs

The String-of-Pearls Seduction Kit

The Pencil Skirt Quickie

The Boyfriend Shirt Quickie

The Basic Black Dress of Blow Jobs

The "Skinny Jeans" BJ Orgasm

The Red Heels Kiss

The Red Heels Quickie

 

Lindsey and Mary at SexyPrime, my wonderful friends Mel and Lorraine, Carolyn, Marilyn, Joey, Michael and Dan--and I, your grateful Auntie Sue--wish you the happiest of New Years.  Thank you for your commentary and hundreds of supportive emails.  My readers are the best!

 

copyright 2008-2012, www.sexyprime.typepad.com; PARTIAL reposts only permitted with link back to original article on SexyPrime.

 

DYING, THE END GAME, Part Sixteen: The Misanthrope, The Stone Frog, The Poisonous Toad & The Christmas Soldiers

 Photo Credit:  "Strawberry Poison Dart Frog" on Photobucket

 

 

“I’m a people pleaser.”

“I love people.”

‘I’m a people person.”--Oft' heard comments

 

Oh, bah, humbug, People Person.  You are such a phony.  Have you paid attention to people and their various nefarious activities lately?  If you encountered one of them, you would be like the liberal who turned conservative after he got mugged. Never mind the obvious suspects like dictators, war lords, terrorists, rapists and billionaire bankers.  Athletic coaches and teachers rape young boys.  Men beat women.  Women sabotage each other.  Internet trolls rise from the security of their anonymous muck to fling their curse words and pithy observations, like “You’re stupid,” at those who hold opinions different from theirs.  

You love these people?

Yes, I am the misanthrope in this little tale.  I do not like most people; and I would know within five minutes of meeting you if you are one to be liked. 

 

Every family has their holiday symbols and sacred totems.  A distant relative back in St. Louis decks and trims from rooftop to basement with the red-and-green themed kitsch inside and out—too much is never enough—but the true heart of her collection is The Stone Frog, cherished because she stole it from her mother on Christmas Eve. 

The stone frog is a symbol of family disunity, but you knew that, and also an icon of bad taste.

Relative A once loved her mother so much it was creepy.  They talked on the phone several times a day, their conversations ranging from dirty jokes to taking inventory of A’s two sisters.  A, a married woman, could not go to sleep without the final Mom call.  Sloppy kisses were exchanged in person, on the phone.  The grandchildren revered her except when they were taught to revile her. Occasionally A and her mother had big arguments and didn’t speak for weeks, even months, replacing their chats with calls to relatives, each warrior claiming “I’m the victim!”  But they always came back together in an over-the-top emotional scene I suspect was scripted by a former Jerry Springer production assistant.

This time may be different.  The feud has lasted a year.   The sisters were at the final loud show-down on Christmas Eve a year ago.  The neighbors called the police, but A managed to steal The Stone Frog and drive away, spinning gravel.  She saved the angry message from her mother demanding its return.

But alas the frog has not taken its place among the garden gnomes or in the Nativity crèche.  You remember the frog beside the baby Jesus wrapped in swaddling, yes?  Imagine, no frog!  It’s under tight security in the garage.

 

A, The Stone Frog thief is The Poisonous Toad, puffy with “water weight.  There is so much damned water in cans of Pepsi.  At first glance, she is merely one half of that stereotypical married couple:  Angry, Controlling Wife, Passive-Aggressive Husband.   She fancies herself a Do-Gooder, adopting wives of abusive alcoholics as BFFs, handling the final care (and bankbooks) of dying relatives.  Her house is filled with their personal treasures—and the cats, birds and dogs she has adopted. 

Underneath the façade of the chain-smoking sentimentalist with a big heart and rough edges, she is a seething witches’ cauldron, jealous, hateful, spiteful, envious, foul-mouthed.  She and her Stone Frog are the underbelly of Christmas, kin to the pepper-spraying Walmart shopper.  They lurk in the corners of the decked halls.

 

Like many a Scrooge, I enter the Christmas season ferreting out the toads, fearful of opening a Stone Frog in a gaily-wrapped box.  Cancer has made me somewhat kinder but also given me x-ray visions.  I can spot a Poisonous Toad in a crowded room.  I didn’t say Bah Humbug once—until now—but felt it tickling the back of my tongue.

Enter The Christmas Soldiers.  Two SexyPrime readers, home from Iraq and scheduled for release from service came to visit.  They brought food cooked by the grandmothers who raised them and their sex questions written down so they wouldn’t forget.  While never discussing combat, they shared warm and funny stories about buddies who didn’t make it home alive. 

Did they ever feel used by the system because our volunteer Army depends on men and women with limited economic choices?  No. 

“The Army saved my life,” one said.  “I will always be grateful to the U.S. Army for getting me out of the ‘hood,’ making a man of me and giving me some skills.”

“Of the guys I knew in childhood, probably more than half of them are dead, in jail or addicts who will die from their addictions,” the other added.

They walked the streets, glancing back over their shoulders, keeping an eye out for Death long before they went to Iraq.  Each in our own way, we have made peace with darkness.  Christmas Soldiers are better than Marley’s ghosts for chasing the Bah-Humbugs and toads away.

“Remember—call us if anybody gives you trouble about anything.  Nobody messes with our Auntie Sue.”

 

 

IF YOU'VE MISSED THE PREVIOUS POSTS--

Dying, The End Game, Part One:  The First Day of the End of My Life

Dying, The End Game, Part Two:  I Gave Them Something To Talk About

Dying, The End Game, Part Three:  What About Sex?

Dying, The End Game, Part Four:  Secrets, Lies & The Relevance of Truth

Dying, The End Game, Part Five:  Money

Dying, The End Game, Part Six:  A Quickie on Questions People Ask

Dying, the End Game, Part Seven:  The Power and Glory of Breasts

 Dying, The End Game, Part Eight:  Ghosts, Spirits & Totems

 Dying, The End Game, Part Nine:  Why I Don't Want A Funeral?

Dying, The End Game, Part Ten:  In The Wee Small Hours of the Morning 

Dying, The End Game, Part Eleven:  Are You Partnered?  Are You Happy?

Dying, The End Game, Part Twelve:  Random Chance & Planned Exits

Dying, The End Game, Part Thirteen:  Regrets & The Movies

Dying, The End Game, Quality of Life

Dying, The End Game, Part Fifteen:  "How are you?"

 

copyright 2008-2011, www.sexyprime.typepad.com; PARTIAL reposts only permitted with link back to original article on SexyPrime.

  

 

 

DO YOU FAKE TO HOLD ONTO YOUR MAN?--New Orgasm Research

Photo Credit:  "Orgasm" on Photobucket

 

 

 

The schedule is hereby abandoned.  Regular readers know that I am focusing on finishing my last book and spending as much time as possible with family and closest friends.  I will blog sporadically when I can’t resist sharing something—like this new orgasm study—with you. 

I hope you are enjoying the holiday season—and know that I miss blogging for you.

 

Research conducted at the HIV Centre for Clinical and Behavioral Studies at Columbia University found a quantitative link between suspicions of infidelity to the likelihood of faking orgasm. Lead researcher Farnaz Kaighobadi said women often use The Fake to hold onto the relationship, not necessarily to protect his ego, the common explanation/excuse. She and her colleagues focused on that link in their work while it was ancillary in other studies.

According to science writer Stephanie Pappas in “Women fake orgasm to hold onto their men,” 23 November 2011, Live Science, Kaighobadi said, “One particular reason that emerges from a lot of studies is 'to keep my partner interested in this relationship,' or to prevent him from defecting [from] the relationship or 'leaving the relationship for another woman.’"

Of the woman surveyed, 54%  said they had faked an orgasm at some point in their lives.  That number is on the low end of the faking scale.  Many report up to 80% of women have faked; and I would guess 90%.   

To get her statistics, Kaighobadi distributed surveys to 453 women, ranging in age from 18 to 46, who had been in relationships for at least six months. The reported fakers were also more suspicious about their partners' fidelity than the women who said they hadn't faked. These women, the researchers concluded, were was also actively "mate-guarding”, a set of behaviors ranging from simply dressing up to keeping tabs on him by checking his email, text messages and social network accounts.

The researchers didn't ask how satisfied the women were with their sexual relationships Kaighobadi said, so the study concluded that it was ‘unknown whether faking orgasm is related to lower levels of satisfaction in bed.”

Isn’t it obvious that women who fake on a regular basis aren’t as satisfied as women who have orgasms? 

That some women fake to hold their man’s gaze seems likely—but how effective is the ploy?  Even if he believed in her orgasm, surely he must have found her lovemaking less than passionate. 

So tell me, Babes, did you ever fake orgasm to hold onto your man?  Did it work?

 

copyright 2008-2011, www.sexyprime.typepad.com; PARTIAL reposts only permitted with link back to original article on SexyPrime.

 

 

 

DYING, THE END GAME, Part Fifteen: "How Are You?"

Photo Credit:  "Wonder Woman Bound and Gagged" on Photobucket

 

 

“How are you?”—the quintessential American greeting to friend or stranger (or customer in a mall shop), sometimes following “Hello”, sometimes in place of it.

 

I am walking with a cane now—new this past week—and people respond to it.  This borrowed genuine Irish shillelagh cane—used by Lorraine’s late father—is an accessory that says, Disabled.  A cab driver offered to walk me to the door of my destination.  The building super said, “Let me know if there is anything I can do for you.”  One of the adorable little guys who call me Grammy said, “Do you want something?  I will ask Daddy to reach it for you.”

“How are you?” is spoken in a solicitous tone.

Last week, just before the cane and the last time I felt comfortable walking alone on the street, I saw a young woman paused on the corner waiting for the light, jogging in place, touching knees to elbows waiting for the light to change.  I flashed back to kick boxing classes in my 50s, jumps from planes, death marches with Carolyn in heels and carrying shopping bags.  Six months ago I could walk for miles.

That was then, the historic then.  This cancer is moving so fast that even a week ago was “then.”

The young woman waiting for the light brought a smile to my face.  Life goes on even though we don’t.  She smiled back at me, a big, wide smile of perfect understanding.

I am working on Dying, the book, so the posts will be brief.  You will have to buy the book after I’m gone to get the rest of the story.  Humbly, I tell you that I have given away more writing than most writers do. (That’s not counting the work done for deadbeat clients.)  There’s a wealth of information on SexyPrime, all of it free.  Peruse the categories on the right.  Enjoy.

 

IF YOU'VE MISSED THE PREVIOUS POSTS--

Dying, The End Game, Part One:  The First Day of the End of My Life

Dying, The End Game, Part Two:  I Gave Them Something To Talk About

Dying, The End Game, Part Three:  What About Sex?

Dying, The End Game, Part Four:  Secrets, Lies & The Relevance of Truth

Dying, The End Game, Part Five:  Money

Dying, The End Game, Part Six:  A Quickie on Questions People Ask

Dying, the End Game, Part Seven:  The Power and Glory of Breasts

 Dying, The End Game, Part Eight:  Ghosts, Spirits & Totems

 Dying, The End Game, Part Nine:  Why I Don't Want A Funeral?

Dying, The End Game, Part Ten:  In The Wee Small Hours of the Morning 

Dying, The End Game, Part Eleven:  Are You Partnered?  Are You Happy?

Dying, The End Game, Part Twelve:  Random Chance & Planned Exits

Dying, The End Game, Part Thirteen:  Regrets & The Movies

Dying, The End Game, Quality of Life

Dying, The End Game, Quality of Life

Dying, The End Game, Part Fifteen:  "How are you?"

Dying, The End Game, Part Sixteen:  The Misanthrope, The Stone Frog, The Poisonous Toad & The Christmas Soldiers 

 

copyright 2008-2011, www.sexyprime.typepad.com; PARTIAL reposts only permitted with link back to original article on SexyPrime.

 

ASK AUNTIE SUE--Beginning The Greatest Hits with "How to handle a depressed penis?"

Auntie Sue's legs, photo by Tyr Throne

 

I apologize for neglecting SexyPime this past week.  I've been working on projects that I want to finish while I can.  One of them--an ebook of Auntie Sue's best advice, with expanded answers.  Ask Auntie Sue is the most popular feature on SP; and its fans deserve a collection.

This question from the September 12, 2011 column was a reader favorite.

How to handle a depressed penis?

Q. “I met this great guy, handsome, sexy, smart, funny.  He’s 45 but in good shape so I wasn’t expecting a depressed penis.  He rarely gets a decent erection and has trouble ejaculating.  While he says he doesn’t mind not coming, I mind that he doesn’t.  He takes medication for high cholesterol and for depression.  I think the meds have depressed his penis.  He won’t take Viagra.  Do you know any magic to make a penis happy again?”  Leanne, the Jersey shore.

A.  Viagra and similar drugs are often contraindicated in patients taking medication for high blood pressure, high cholesterol and depression.  That comes as a surprise to women who think all problems of the penis can be cured by a little pill.  Your lover should seek out a doctor who can listen to his sexual concerns and help him find the medications or dosages that have the least impact on his poor depressed penis.  But here is what you can do:

First, stop “minding” when he doesn’t ejaculate.  Take the pressure off.  Let him focus on pleasing you.

Second a savvy lover can often help her man get a firmer erection these two ways.   

• Become very skilled at fellatio.  (See my signature sex technique, The Basic Black Dress of Blow Jobs.) 
• Perfect the art of the hand job.  (See "Two Hand Jobs.")

Third, have you tried a vibrating cock ring on him?  (Go to Babeland, type in "vibrating cock ring" in the search window.)  The ring helps him maintain an erection while the vibrations increase his arousal and bring him closer to ejaculation. 

Fourth, he might be able to reach orgasm during anal intercourse because the fit around his penis is so snug.  (See M’s primer on anal intercourse.) 

Fifth, some men respond to this simple trick: 

• Press your thumb into his perineum (space between base of testicles and anus) when he is highly aroused. 

Finally, explore your fantasies together.  A little kink can be better than a little blue pill.

 

copyright 2008-2011, www.sexyprime.typepad.com; PARTIAL reposts only permitted with link back to original article on SexyPrime.

DYING, THE END GAME, Part Fourteen: The Quality of Life

 

Image credit:  "High Flying Bird" by Walter ver Meulen

 

 

“So, what can I say ? Most of the people who are close to death (and I was) know how speaking or writing about this subject is hard, quite hard for others to understand.

“Speaking about death is considered in our modern society as very anti-conformist, almost provocative, subversive action.  Often, it can provoque very bad and violent reactions.

“When we are all made to believe we can live longer, better, younger—writing such words is a real challenge!

“Susan, I really did appreciate what I've read. It's like ‘a force tranquille’, a sweet and powerful strength,” Oliver, a French reader.

 

Thank you, Oliver.  What a beautiful compliment.  I love having my writing described as a “force tranquille.” 

Another reader sent a warm note with a link to "How Doctors Die", by Ken Murray on LiveScience.

What an eye-opening piece of writing.  It should be a call to action for everyone.  In Part Five, Money, I wrote about the unconscionable waste inherent in our current way of dying.  Millions are poured into end-of-life treatments that add nothing to the patient’s quality of life—in fact, the opposite:  Treatment when the odds of remission, let alone cure, range from little to none all but guarantees the patient will die a painful, lingering death. 

Dr Murray writes,

“…doctors die, too. And they don’t die like the rest of us. What’s unusual about them is not how much treatment they get compared to most Americans, but how little. For all the time they spend fending off the deaths of others, they tend to be fairly serene when faced with death themselves. They know exactly what is going to happen, they know the choices, and they generally have access to any sort of medical care they could want. But they go gently.

"Of course, doctors don’t want to die; they want to live. But they know enough about modern medicine to know its limits…”

Murray writes about “futile care” and the “anguish” of administering treatments that will cause suffering because the patient requests “everything be done” or family members demand it—none of them with any real understanding of what “everything” entails.  He acknowledges that doctors are rarely good at explaining all the options, including the option of refusing all treatment but palliative care—and patients and family members are just as bad at asking the right questions.  Given the high cost of health care in this country and the real possibility of medical rationing one day, doctors and patients must develop these skills.

The two big questions:

• What will this treatment cost me in terms of pain and suffering?
• What will it gain me in quality of life?

When you have the answers to those questions, you can realistically weigh your options.  I hope and believe that the readers accompanying me on my journey will know the questions to ask for self and family members.  Death comes to all of us, often sooner than we think it will.  We are hostage to a brutal medical system because we are in cultural denial about death.  That system denies us the spiritual and emotional journey that is dying.

I am grateful that I've had the quality time to savor experiences like walking in New York City on an early fall day or having lunch with an old friend in a familiar place like Punch, to say my good-byes, be nurtured by loving friends--and reach out to so many people around the world.

But if you want to keep the blinders on:  Focus solely on positive articles about aging; don’t think, read or talk about dying; refuse to contemplate living with some form of senility as half who pass their 80^th birthday  will do—and spout slogans like, “Age is just a number (or state of mind)” and “60 is the new 40.” 

Dying is one of the three big taboos, subjects we don’t discuss in polite company, along with sex (honestly) and non-socially-acceptable mental illness—the sorts of problems that can’t be “treated” by anti-depressants and mood elevators.  Depression is trendy; personality disorders, not.  I’m weary of the language of cancer—“fight,” “battle,” “wage war on”—wherein quality of the cancer victim’s life is simply collateral damage. 

But I do love kicking taboos in the ass with a fine stiletto-shod foot. 

 

 

IF YOU'VE MISSED THE PREVIOUS POSTS--

Dying, The End Game, Part One:  The First Day of the End of My Life

Dying, The End Game, Part Two:  I Gave Them Something To Talk About

Dying, The End Game, Part Three:  What About Sex?

Dying, The End Game, Part Four:  Secrets, Lies & The Relevance of Truth

Dying, The End Game, Part Five:  Money

Dying, The End Game, Part Six:  A Quickie on Questions People Ask

Dying, the End Game, Part Seven:  The Power and Glory of Breasts

 Dying, The End Game, Part Eight:  Ghosts, Spirits & Totems

 Dying, The End Game, Part Nine:  Why I Don't Want A Funeral?

Dying, The End Game, Part Ten:  In The Wee Small Hours of the Morning 

Dying, The End Game, Part Eleven:  Are You Partnered?  Are You Happy?

Dying, The End Game, Part Twelve:  Random Chance & Planned Exits

Dying, The End Game, Part Thirteen:  Regrets & The Movies

 

Dying, The End Game, Quality of Life

Dying, The End Game, Part Fifteen:  "How are you?"

Dying, The End Game, Part Sixteen:  The Misanthrope, The Stone Frog, The Poisonous Toad & The Christmas Soldiers 

 

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