A boner confession

My boner doesn’t exactly work the best these days. Truth be told, it might have never done. I get a severe form of performance anxiety. Like Costanza, trying to get the condom on is enough to make me start going rubbery. Not a good look.

So Friday afternoon I finally asked my doctor sheepishly about boner pills and she was just like “sure thing” and whipped out a one-pill sampler for me. She told me to try it out and get back to her if it worked. The pill was huge but bro-doc told me that if performance anxiety is really the only issue, I’ll only need half of it or less to maintain the initial erection. Good deal bro doc, I’ve never been so glad that my doctor has been corrupted by Phizer.

I was due in at a conference in NYC on Monday morning so I decided to stay Sunday night, and I determined that this day would be Boner Fest.

I got up early and arrived in Manhattan around 9:30, went to a starbucks, and started swiping. Dozens of hits before I finish my coffee, lots of bored women on a Sunday morning. I indiscriminately copy/paste the same thing to each target: “Good morning beautiful, want to hang out today?” I’m only interested in women who want to meet and talk, none of this pen pal bullshit - I fucking hate texting! Let me save my material for in-person where it counts!

Failure 1: Not a Jim

I hang out in starbucks for about 45 minutes before I convince a cute girl to meet me there. We chat for a while. I learn quickly that she’s looking for the Jim to her whatever the fuck. I explain that I’m not looking for that at all. She claims to respect my honesty. We part ways.

In the meantime while wasting time with that babe, several more matches to paste to, and a couple fish on the line for a meeting. I love a gal who says, “Oh thank god, I hate the endless texting, just invite me out on a date already lol.” Because, really people. Fuck texting.

Success 1: Jamaican Jerk Sauce

I agree to meet another girl in Harlem. Driving through new york is insane even on a sunday. Pedestrians literally look at you like a douche bag because you aren’t brave enough to run them over. If you delay for a split second at a green light, everybody honks. I myself am looking for opportunities to honk at a New Yorker and assert my outlander dominance.

I had never actually visited Harlem before. It’s much closer to manhattan than you would think, and it’s not the 1980’s Josh Baskin shithole I had expected. I saw more hipsters than anything. The aromas of skunky weed and craft brew in the air.

It’s nearly noon now and I’m singing along to Billy Jean on the radio at a traffic light. I turn my head and see a very fine looking young woman with a glorious fro in the car next to me, glancing at me because I’m singing. I roll down the window and crank it to max, then I pour my soul out at her as I reach toward her car, lip syncing “PEOPLE ALWAYS TOLD ME, NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO, DON’T GO AROUND BREAKING YOUNG GIRLS HEARTS...” She was laughing at me, an old white dude in sunglasses. But she displayed her tongue and teeth, which is an opening to me.

I turn down the radio and as the light is turning green, I yell “Follow me!” out the window. And she actually does! Could this be the elusive, random, real life pickup that I thought didn’t exist anymore? I'm like fucking Sam Malone or Dan Fielding or that Larry guy!

I find a spot where you’re not supposed to park and I stop there. She stops behind me and stays in her car. I get out and approach like a reverse cop and remove my sunglasses. I say, “Holy smokes you’re hot!” She thanks me in a thick accent and giggles, turns out she’s Jamaican. I tell her, look, I know this is a weird way to meet and everything but when I saw you I just couldn’t resist. Everything I say to this girl elicits a giggle, I think I’m basically in.

We park near her apartment and then go to a nearby coffee shop. We talk for a while, she’s a yoga instructor, loves dogs, cooks well. I keep saying things that make her giggle, and I get several “White guys are so weird” comments while she shoves me. I keep slapping her back on the thigh. I’m definitely in, baby.

She invites me back to her apartment, so I excuse myself to the coffee shop bathroom and I bite off half the boner pill and swallow it with gross NYC sink water. We walk to her apartment.

She has the tiniest, dorm-sized apartment I’ve ever been in. The kitchen connects directly to the bedroom with no door. This makes it extra inconvenient that she has an energetic fucking dog that jumps all over the place. Oh well, I think, just pretend to like that fucking dog. This is the final boss.

I play with the dog while she pours out some wine. I hadn’t expected to be drinking at noon but this indicates she probably wants to get naughty.

We drink a glass and talk some more, then a I lean in to kiss her. She lets me, and we make out for a few minutes while the obnoxious dog keeps jumping up on our laps.

I start fingering her (very wet) pussy and she then suddenly announces, “Let’s walk Charlie!” FUCK! I’m starting to wonder how long these boner pills will last. She’s getting nervous I can see. And who wouldn’t be? I’m a fucking boner pill eating old white weirdo.

I walk the dog with her, she has cute little dog coat for him. It’s cold but I keep on doing the dance, churning out the giggles, learning about life in Jamaica and her psychic grandmother, acting interested. Well actually, I was pretty fucking interested about the grandma thing to be honest. Her accent is damn adorable, too.

We finally return to her apartment, cold AF, and we have one more glass of wine. I’m getting tipsy because I’m really not much of a day drinker and I haven't eaten. But when in Jamaica do as Jamaicans do.

The second glass down and we start making out again and she puts on some music and we dance and grind. She laughs at how shittily I dance, makes fun of me one more time for being white, then I finally had enough and I throw her onto the bed and strip her down.

This gal was so wet that her panties were clinging to her and it looked like she pissed herself. I think this scenario really appealed to her in some way. Older white guy, clandestine meeting, etc. Her clit was very swollen. I started to rub it and she moaned loudly and came immediately and now juices are pouring out of her. She’s either a nympho or way into me specifically.

She tells me she wants me inside her and she’s pleading like she’s desperate. And the fucking dog is sitting there watching all this.

I’m hard as fuck, so now the moment of truth. I roll a condom onto my hard cock and SUCCESS! This boner ain’t going nowhere buddy. Rock hard, and looking bigger than usual, and every inch counts for my ridiculous dick, trust me. Swollen, stiff, fucking rigid. I loved my boner at this moment and it filled me with a sense of masculinity, which is rare for a limp-dicked beta such as myself.

I start fucking her in every configuration possible. Legs up, legs down, her on top, me on top, doggy style with spanking. She was moaning loudly and nearly out of breath, doing these stilted little squeaks as though she was breathing her last. Meanwhile the dog is barking and she keeps having to say in stilted, staccato breaths, “Charlie… shut… the… fuck…. up”

She must have cum at least ten times or more. Again, I’m no stud over here and I’ve never seen a woman respond to me like this. Lightning struck her that day I think, and my proposition was pinpoint accurate on her fantasies. At least I’ve been telling myself that ever since.

I cum with her on top while squeezing her firm breasts. By the end of it the bed was soaked through and her legs were shivering. My balls were soaked in her juices. I raked my fingernails over her thighs and her body quaked and she moaned loudly, like someone being tortured with hot irons. Her entire body was sensitive and she was fucking mindless and legless.

I put this girl into the mother fucking sunken place.

I’m feeling pretty good about myself at that point! The dog must have thought I fucking murdered her, it was whining loudly at this point and spinning in circles. It was a very weird combo of sounds and experiences. I promise you, my boner would not have survived that dog chaos without the pill!

She wants me to nap with her but I tell her I’m not tired and I have to meet friends for lunch. I suddenly remember the Tinder girl I was supposed to be meeting RIGHT NOW. FUCK.

We agree to see each other again soon. And with this wet little jamaican sex pot, I really mean it this time.

Failure 2: You're late, mother fucker!

It’s nearing 2 pm at this point, and I turn tinder back on to find a VERY annoyed harlem lady who I was supposed to meet. She’s been waiting at the coffee shop for nearly an hour now. Fuck. I mistakenly agree to meet her anyway.

I arrive at the harlem coffee shop and there she is, looking pretty glum, but hot as fuck. Very hot in fact. She looks like Seven of Nine from star trek (damn my references are old). Tight blonde woman in her early 30s, dressed like a lawyer on a Sunday afternoon. High quality alpha female type.

She did not respond at all to my lies and excuses about being late. She just acted super annoyed and disappointed, kept glancing off in the distance and looking over her shoulder. She was steaming worse than a bucket of clams, not laughing at my jokes. Probably not impressed that I look like a mess and smell like wine! But like, why the fuck did she agree to still meeting me anyway, just so I could see how pissed she was? wtf

Since the situation was looking dire, I took a shot and asked her if she wanted to go somewhere to get spanked. She said nope, so I apologized for my tardiness and bounced. I guess I didn’t impress enough to excuse being horrendously late. I blocked her so I wouldn’t have to cringe when I saw her thumbnail again.

I bounced to the next shop over and watched her walk down the street while I fired up the phone again, my ultimate sidekick instrument of evil.

Success 2: Swamp Balls Folly

Huge amount of matches now. This is what happens in a city. Now I can be very selective. I select a very cute 19 year old Asian NYU student whose profile leans toward the risque. I ask her out for a drink, she reminds me she’s not old enough to drink and doesn’t have a fake ID. I ask her to smoke weed with me since then we will both be criminals. She agrees.

We meet in the part of Central Park that has a lot of rocks and horse shit smells. I don’t know how these fucking New Yorkers can stand hanging outside so much. I’m shivering out there. This girl is wearing sheer leggings with exposed ankles and acting like it’s no big deal.

We sit on a bench and toke on a nice strawberry TCH vape pen I got from DC. We talk about NYU and her home town in Jersey. I’ve also lived in Jersey in the past so we bond over that. She’s planning to go into medicine and suddenly I’m thinking, oh shit. I could marry a young doctor. These thoughts don’t normally go through my head, but damn if I don’t recognize a golden opportunity when I see one! A doctor less than half my age would have a long shelf life. But anyway, digress mother fucker, back to the mission at hand.

The vape pen is particularly impressing her because she doesn’t like to smoke. I offer her a THC lollipop that I also got in DC, but I warn her that she better be somewhere safe before eating those cuz they will put you in the twilight zone. She doesn’t know what the fuck the twilight zone is but she invites me back to her NYU apartment/dorm/residence hall or whatever. I laugh at her for literally taking drug candy from an old stranger, and something about that joke makes her blush and giggle a lot. She knows she's being bad.

We arrive at her residence hall and it’s extremely awkward to pass the procession of young people in the halls. I’m older than a lot of their professors and here I am walking some young girl back to her fucking dorm. I have gray hair in my beard FFS.

We finally negotiate into her pod area or whatever and luckily nobody else is there. I break out the pops and she selects a green one. I realize what a child she is when she starts chewing and biting on it. I was wincing inside with each loud crunch.

We continued talking but as the minutes dragged on she started to get that, “what was I just talking about?” super stoned thing going on, and lots of giggles. And she’s now pounding a bag of cheetos.

She says, “So… what do you like in a girl?”

I set down my pop and tell her, “Whatever you got baby” and I lean in and start kissing her. She tastes like cheetos. I kiss her neck and she’s very responsive so I peel off her yoga pants and examine her pussy. So smooth and cute. I don’t normally do this with girls I just met but she’s very young and also looks clean and put together, so I just say fuck it and I start sucking her clit real good and fingering her. Herpes be damned! I’m rolling those dice, baby.

She moans and cums pretty quickly (not nearly as quickly as my Jamaican queen). Then she goes to take off my pants and return the favor. I suddenly realize, OH SHIT, I still have the Jamaican stank on my balls, I can’t let her do this. It probably smells like a goddamn garbage barge after stewing down there for hours.

I ask her if she has a condom and she says no, but she can give me a blowjob to return the favor. Fuck. I did not plan this one good enough. And my dick is rock solid, I’m fairly certain the boner pills are still working because it’s not going anywhere. And my balls hurt. Here’s my fantasy, a 19 year old wants to suck me off and I didn’t think to wash my fucking dick.

So I told her I feel uncomfortable because I haven’t showered so I don’t want her to have to experience that. She laughs and says “well what do you want?”

So I settled on getting jerked off while I rubbed her smooth legs and firm, small boobies. She jerked me until I came all over myself basically. I forgot how bad young women are at cum management. She laughed and gave me a towel to wipe off my shirt and pants leg. But facts are facts, I was going to have to do the walk of shame out of this place with cum stains.

I asked her if she wanted to hang out again later, she said yes, and I told her the same lie about meeting people and I got the fuck out of there as fast as I could, hoping nobody would notice the wet spot on my pant leg. But I'm also stoned so in my mind everybody saw it. Awful walk back to the car.

Success (?) 3: A fuck too far

I needed to remedy my ball stank and cum stain issue so I decided to check into my hotel at that point and take a breather. I slipped the valet 10 bucks to just watch my illegally parked car and move it if a cop came because I didn’t want to walk for blocks in this cold ass fucking city.

I took a hot shower, got changed, and laid down for a minute to reflect and plan. I was feeling pretty woozie at this point because it’s not even 5 o’clock yet and I’ve already had wine and weed. I brewed a pot of coffee in the room and slugged back a few cups while tindering.

To be frank, I was not horny at all at this point. I had those post-porn PTSD feelings where I didn’t even want to do anything anymore. But I decided to push this as far as it could go. I had never been with two girls in one day, so let’s see if we can set a same day record.

I aggressively message at least 50 people, “Hey, want to hang out in my hotel room tonight?” To an almost unanimous chorus of “I’m not that kind of girl.” I felt kind of bad about doing it. It’s pretty gross and women hate it, but what can I do? I was getting tired and I’m sick of talking to other humans at this point. I think I was going slightly insane at that moment from over-stimulation. Everything felt ethereal and jet-laggy.

Finally somebody takes me up on it, but wants to meet at her place. She’s 45, recently divorced, and sowing wild oats. She thinks of me as “a baby” she keeps saying, even though I’m nearly 40 myself. Apparently she’s fairly rich, having just divorced a famous executive I had never heard of. The fact that I had never heard of him seemed to annoy her in some way, like she was flexing about once being married to a very rich guy? It came off bad to me, but whatever.

I swallow the other half of the boner pill then go to her apartment in Manhattan, and the place is fucking amazing. I don’t know shit about NYC but this seems like the nice part of town. Totally opposite of my other encounters. It’s huge for one thing, immaculately kept except that there were tons of unopened boxes and plastic wrapped furnishings everywhere. She must really be freshly divorced.

What I liked about this encounter is that clearly this lady was trying to impress me, a younger man. I was for once in my life on opposite footing where she was showing me all the cool features of her apartment, how she can control the lights with her ipad, etc. and trying to really impress me with who she knows and where she’s been. Kept saying, “So trust me, I’m not a bad person to know” or “Trust me, you could do a lot worse.” It was kind of endearing and desperate at the same time. This lady was making sure she still had the goods!

We sit for a while and chat over wine. She whines about Trump and how the country is doomed and shit. I pretend to agree even though I don’t actually care about politics at all. I’ve been on reddit long enough to know all the talking points so I was impressing her with all my deep cut political knowledge. I would just have to say something like, “How about this AOC character” and that would get her going on a diatribe for 5 minutes, leaving her with the impression that I know something and that I'm in her political tribe. When in actuality I don’t care nor vote and I’m just a weirdo nihilist creepazoid type figure with a bad boner.

I’m feeling sick to my stomach at the idea of kissing her at this point and I just want to leave. I’ve genuinely had my fill, and I haven’t eaten and I’m starting to feel sick. Every joke I make is at great pains now. I’m listening carefully to her and responding, but it is taking all my effort. Each additional morsel is emotional torture and I want badly to bail and just go to sleep.

But fuck it, in for a penny, in for a pound. I take out some tic tacs because i’m detecting a stank on my breath, and I tell her, “I’m just going to shake out some tic tacs because I’m going to kiss you. Want any?”

She says, “Oh, you are??” in a seductive manner and takes some.

I chew my tictacs up like the college girl from earlier so that some of minty freshness stays stuck in my teeth, then I lean in and kiss her. She’s a very aggressive, tonguey, slobbery kisser. I think she’s been married for a long time because she doesn’t have a very chill kissing technique. Too much tongue baby! The tongue should just brush against each other a little every now and then, it’s not supposed to be teenage spin-the-bottle style tongue-in-throat. The volume of her saliva was making my nausea worse and at one point I nearly gagged.

Nevertheless, she was stroking my penis over my pants so I was getting very hard. She pulls out my cock and starts sucking it. Once again, bad technique. Teethy and fast. No teasing, no swirling, no ball play, in fact no hands of any kind. Just up and down like somebody with no experience. Very strange. I thought older women were supposed to be very good at this. But she is moaning while sucking me so I think it’s all making her pretty horny.

I finger her a little and then I put on a condom which I remembered to bring this time. I fucked her in a tired, bored fashion with our sweaters and socks still on. None of the positioning and pizzazz of my Jamaican sweetie who by this point seemed like a distant memory.

I cummed out what must have been dust particles at that point. The condom didn’t even seem very full at all and the orgasm was lackluster. I don’t even know if she came, I didn’t even wait to find out. I was getting a very uncomfortable feeling at that point. Ladies and gentleman, this reporter has officially had his fill. I am no ancient roman, that’s for sure.

So I made excuses and left, vaguely agreeing to a future encounter.

Arriving back in my hotel, I hit that bed harder than you’ve ever seen. My penis felt sore and worn out, the thought of sex or human interaction was horrendous at this point. Like porn PTSD times a million. I turned tinder on for a minute, read one “sure, let’s meet” comment, then shut it right the fuck down. Too much.

So short story long, the pills worked.