Groovy Groove Groove

…well, maybe u can write abt how u got your groove back

That was the text message she had sent me earlier. Not groove as in the groovy stuff of the 60s and 70s, but groove as in screw. Not the literal screw, but the intimate one. So if you cringe at reading about sex, or is in the opinion that sex is a taboo, do not read any further. Click on this link to read about the ASEAN economy or something.

The previous few months have seen me having nocturnal (well, daytime too) bedtime activities more than the number of times I have had it since 1991 (when I first got married) until March 2008. Sex had become such a bore to me that I hardly saw the need to even have an erection. Seriously. It was so bad that I used to wonder waking up in the morning sans erection, whether I have lost 50% of what it is supposed to be used for, the other 50% being its use for peeing.

Then when I was admitted to the Coronary ICU of the DSH back in 2004, I was given Cordarone to regulate my heartbeat, and since it (generic name Amiodarone) shows beta-blocker-like actions, it slowed me down – EVERYWHERE! When I was diagnosed as being hypertensive last year, I was first prescribed with Atenolol, an ancient but well-proven beta-blocker, and that further cut down my ability to have normal sex (and, abnormal ones, in case you guys want to know).

I was thus reduced from being a Tiger to a Kitten; ironically can’t even get into a Pussy. I look at a sexy woman, I felt nothing. I watch porn, I felt nothing. I whacked the fella, I felt nothing. I was flogging a dead horse. The Stallion had been reduced to an Ass – without the lethal kick the latter gives. It was not totally dead; there were times when I could have an erection. An ex-girlfriend had my erection poking half heartedly at her ass while she was on all fours and I thought, “There is a God in Heaven!”. Alas, it was during the fasting month and it could have been an MCKK-trait I somehow earned despite not playing rugby after Form Three that decided to rear itself at that awkward moment. It was frustrating not being able to will an erection.

“It could be the company,” I thought to myself. It just had to be. Maybe there was no chemistry there to make a big thing out of something small. It wasn’t totally dead. Not Micro but Soft nevertheless. I even sought the help of my GP, and he recommended me the best tablet for my trouble – but at more than RM50 a tablet, I thought maybe not, since I was not interested in having anyone again.

Then I met Yummy Baby. There has never been any physical attraction whatsoever during the 6 months that I knew her prior to dating her. I never thought I would have made it onto her list of hot studs that she had dated, or were dating then. Even my college classmate she dated before she was married, and after her divorce, was a lot hotter than I, and classier to add insult to an already injured ego. What more (with the exception of the guy who had muscles but had none down there to control premature ejaculation – it could have been the food they served him at a certain boarding school in Melaka) they were driving Beemers, and wined and dined her in classy places; places I would not normally go to on a daily basis to wine and dine a lovely person such as she.

Twice we checked into a hotel with no intention of having sex (oh yeah, I prayed hard for sex not to be on her mind because it definitely was not on mine) – more to spend time alone together, cuddle up in comfort and so on. Then, the inevitable happened. We both got aroused. She was afire, my hose didn’t have enough water pressure! I cursed myself all night, and morning when she left for work. On the second occassion, the same thing happened and I thought I was doomed – she was going to leave me for being a dud.

It had to be psychological. It just had to be. I went for work in Tioman and was diving a lot, and I was relaxed then despite the hectic schedule and the pressure of training people underwater. She was away overseas, helping the economy of a certain country, adhering to Tun Dr M’s call to ‘prosper thy neighbour’. And I missed her a lot. When she got back, we spent some time together in a hotel, and suddenly, in the words of the famous Dr. Frankenstein, “IT’S ALIVEEEE!!!.

Or was that Igor who said that?

Anyway, we average at twice a night, peaking at six. And for each time, I’d make sure she achieves orgasm at least twice before I can rest. I am happy now that I have broken that mental barrier that rendered me useless before I met her. Now, I know she can sleep soundly at night, with sound of course, signaling how spent, sated and satiated she is everytime after an extended performance.

And she sent me this text just now:

“Love you, sayang. You’re such a stud, honey.”

She loves me and the way I do her.

Note: after this entry was posted the frequency peaked at nine TEN. I need a back massage.