Willin'** is a new series from an adventurous writer out of Charleston, South Carolina that begins with the painful tale of how she learned that size does matter—and too big can be a painful discovery.
I've been single a long time, a really loooooong time. And in my singleness, I've had long dry spells…loooong. When this particular event occurred, I was well into, but not through, menopause. I met this man online. He was hot, intelligent….and foreign...yum.
We had lunch, then he asked to see my house because he…ready?...restored historic homes in Charleston. He began that vocation by restoring historic homes in Europe. Listen, I’m an educated, progressive woman who lives in rural South Carolina. Any man who can use the English language correctly, with an accent no less, and form cohesive thoughts, turns the “you might want to think about this” part of my brain to mush. Long gray hair, olive skin, white teeth, hazel eyes…a dad bod (I love that)…great hands…hot.
When I unlocked my front door, the first thing he did was brush past me and walk straight into my home looking at the ceiling while explaining what the house looked like originally. He walked me around my house and showed me where the hallways were and where the parlor used to be. My day job is as a theatre historian…I’m all about it. He told me my house had good bones, “like you, dear…” (Holy shitballs). After much kissing, which was uh, freaking amazing (imagine a hot Jacques Clouseau from The Pink Panther, only Chilean, and hot) and then heavy petting, we moved upstairs to the bedroom. “(Kiss!) You know dat dese stairs (Kiss!) are no original? (Long kiss, shirt flies off…) Dis was merely de attick (Kiss!).” I thought, “thank you…finally…a hot, intelligent, Latin (bonus)…Oh MY GOD…Hooray….”
Spinning red lights. Alarms bells. Slap in the face. Full STOP!
He had THE BIGGEST DICK I HAVE/HAD/PROBABLY WILL EVER see EVER! It was otherworldly, alien, colossal, uncircumcised…and terrifying! What was I supposed to do with that? Let me digress for a moment, you know how you have that other person inside of you that we actors call the “observer” commenting on the action, but objective and distant? She totally kicked in. I had seen an uncircumcised penis before, but I had never handled one. And this one was…vast! I handed him a condom, which he had problems wrestling onto that massive thing...no shit… After more hot action, when he slid it in, it hurt like a mofo…a gigantic uncircumcised mofo! Then the whole thing turned…awkward. Again, that observer: Pain had never happened during sex. What. The. Fuck. Per my observer, as a side note, in my limited experience, it seems the bigger they are, the less they know about pleasure. It’s like a jack hammer…But this guy, thankfully, not so much… I really felt like he felt as uncomfortable as I did.
Regardless of the awkwardness, he stayed the night, held my hand while we slept, made me breakfast, then had to drive back to Charleston for work. After that he called daily, wanted to know when he could see me again. I left for an extended summer trip three days after our encounter. He continued to call.
Do you know that if you don’t use it, it closes up? I didn’t either. Vaginal Atrophy. I felt as confused and self-conscious as I did my first time. At my in-the-middle-of-menopausal age, he was my first one-night stand… See, I can count the number of men I've slept with on two hands. I'm a Scorpio sun/Cancer moon/sex has to be a spiritual experience. Plus, being raised in the rural South, it has taken me a long time to manage, and I say manage not conquer, that whole guilt about sex bullshit. For a split second, I thought maybe I deserved it because it was a one-night stand. I thought and thought and obsessed and then…I got angry. My various fucking GYNs never mentioned this possibility. It’s not like they don’t ask you at every appointment if you are sexually active. You would think vaginal atrophy would be something of interest to an aging, single, sexually active-in-spurts woman! So, I had to educate myself. I didn’t know about lube (never needed it). There are even dildos, for lack of a better word, to help expand what has contracted…didn’t know that. “Back in my day” we were worried about “stretching out.”
Oh, and hot Chilean, Jacques Clouseau? Never saw him again. Absence does not make the heart or the big dick grow…fonder…or more comfortable.
**The title for this series was inspired by one of Little Feat's greatest songs: "Well I've been kicked by the wind, robbed by the sleet / Had my head stoved in, but I'm still on my feet / And I'm still, willin'". (Willin' Little Feat)
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