Major Malfunction
We all know that men are born with two heads and whichever one is getting more blood flow at the time is often responsible for the decision making. We've also learned that if one head is unhappy, it will often make life miserable for its counterpart. Unfortunately, I was reminded of this fact first hand, on Sunday.
With Giggles out of town for the weekend, I made the mistake of starting to over think my situation with her in my free time. Additionally, both Friday and Saturday nights were very late nights for me and I was unable to sleep in on the following mornings. So, by the time she got back into town, I was a mental and physical mess. My body was completely exhausted and I'd worried myself into oblivion about what our current status was and where things were going and if they were going there too fast, what she was thinking, what she wanted versus what I wanted, etc.
Fast-forward to Sunday night when I go over to her apartment to see her and welcome her back into town. I barely make it through the front door before she and I are lip-locked and clothes start flying off. I put my hands on her ass and pick her up. She responds by locking her legs around my waist and I carry her that way into the bedroom. I set her down on the bed and I'm immediately on top of her, alternating between passionate kisses and removing her clothing. For some unfortunate reason, all of the thinking I'd been doing over the last couple of days starts to infiltrate its way into my current thoughts. By the time we're both topless, I'm doing everything I can to concentrate on the task at hand. And, when we're down to our underwear, my focus has been completely consumed by this mental virus and I suddenly become aware that things below the belt aren't quite functioning as they should be.
Oh, shit, I think to myself,
this is really, really not good.
To further complicate things, she's totally ready to mount up and is not being shy about letting me know.
Oh god, more pressure! Maybe if I go down on her I can buy some time and clear my head a bit. I work my way down her body until I'm nestled between her thighs and start to go to work. Of course, this does nothing to clear my head, and I quickly start adding performance anxiety to the list of worries that are spinning around in my brain. Naively, I assumed things couldn't get any worse, but something felt the need to prove me wrong. That something turned out to be the damn cat.
If this cat and I ever form a friendly relationship, it will be a freaking miracle. She really has something against people having a good time, or at least picks the worst time to seek attention. There we are, Giggles on her back with her legs up in the air and her hands on my head. I'm face down between her legs and very preoccupied with a multitude of thoughts. Out of nowhere, the cat comes flying into the room, jumps up on the bed and makes a b-line for my back. Did I mention that she hasn't been declawed? Between the pain and having the bejesus scared out of me, I'm surprised I didn't jump high enough to hit the ceiling. I did, however, rise fast enough to send the cat flying behind me a good four to five feet and well clear of the bed. She streaked out of the room as fast as she'd entered, leaving me completely shell-shocked.
At that point, I was in no condition to continue and no matter how much I concentrated and how much effort Giggles put into getting my loins to come to life, I could not get close to becoming hard. We eventually gave up and I left, stressed, tired and with a serious case of blue balls.
