If there’s one thing men think defines their masculinity, it’s the idea that they’re stallions in bed. That, and knowing the inner workings of a combustion engine.
We’ve all had times when we weren’t at the top of our game, and there’s always an excuse. Maybe you were bummed that you blew that biology test. Maybe you ate a bad peach at lunch.
Whatever the cause, it’s no biggie. It even happened to me once. I had an excuse, of course. I was pretty stressed out at work and I wasn’t sleeping. It was humiliating. What made me even crazier was knowing she was thinking, “Uh huh, sure it hasn’t,” when I said, “I swear this never happened to me before.”
After that incident, whenever I saw a Cialis commercial, I wanted to kick the
TV and yell, “What do you mean I’m not a man?!”
Men get so freaked out about impressing women in bed that they develop performance anxiety. It can really mess with your head. It can mess with your body too. Before you know it, you’re naked in bed with a frustrated woman, breathing into a paper bag to stop your panic attack.
If you’re lucky enough to get another shot with her, don’t let it mess with your head. Stressing over it could cause it to happen again. Instead of curling up into the fetal position and sobbing like a baby, charge in there like you’re going after World Series tickets.
Think positively, and you’ll get positive results.
After my disappointing outing, the next time I had sex was with that same woman. I could have flinched, but instead I kept cheering myself on. Have you seen those Starbucks Doubleshot espresso commercials, where “Hank” is off to a job interview, and his friends, family, strangers are lined up chanting “Hank, Hank, Hank” while Gary Glitter’s “Rock ‘n’ Roll, Pt. 2” plays? That’s what you need to do, but not aloud.
Keep yourself psyched up. Don’t think about your former problem or a repeat of it; think about how you’ll be pleasing her.
Another cause of performance anxiety is poor sexual stamina. Some poor guys out there just can’t last very long. But before you write yourself off as a minute-man, you’ll be happy to know that, according to queendom.com, an online testing site, the average time of actual intercourse is three to four minutes. If you’re lasting 10 minutes, you’re well ahead of the game.
Unfortunately, it’s not my opinion–or yours–that counts. It’s the woman’s. And if she thinks you suck in bed, then, sorry fella, you do.
Some women want their men to last at least an hour. An hour? That’s an entire episode of “Law & Order.” That’s three innings of baseball, a nap after Thanksgiving dinner and even longer than it takes Giordano’s to make a deep-dish pizza.
If you’re going to meet that goal, you’re going to have to work at it. Thinking about baseball to distract yourself won’t cut it.
You need something more practical.
I’m not sure what Dr. Ruth would say to conquer this problem, but I’ve had success with a trick to keep going. And it’s pretty simple.
When you get that feeling, stop what you’re doing. Kiss her neck, whisper in her ear, distract her. This will give you time to settle down and regroup, and she’ll be none the wiser.
So stop whining about being bad in bed, guys. Take action. Make some changes. You’re in charge of your own sexual destiny. The choice is yours: You can either go down in the annals of sexual history or you can listen to her friends giggle as you walk by.
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sexplaybook@tribune.com
