Should it be that? A memoir of fucking?
I mean, that's one of the more interesting things about me -- my busy sexual history and its prompts and fall out.
If I can even remember what sex with other people was like -- seeing I haven't enjoyed it since 2014 -- the last year I had sex with Will or anyone else. In fact, I think the last time I had sex was in the summer of that year when I went to Pocatello to pick up all the rest of my Dad's paintings and papers, from almost all of which I have since been freed. And the last time was like the first time (1969) in that I had an orgasm and the male involved didn't. And and I didn't care.
Oh, I did the work I was supposed to do but he was my age sans the blue pill ...
And I found that I had little interest in what he wanted to do -- which was play his guitar as foreplay and sing one of his songs. And the setting was off -- he was sleeping on the floor in the back of his shop due to spousal separation (I guess she was in the house?).
Around that time was also my last sex with Will. By 2014 he had forgotten how to kiss and he had developed phimosis which made giving head unpleasant for me. So after that I told him, "I'm not doing sex anymore." That didn't stop him from masturbating every morning.
Well, I can't say for sure every morning. Let's just say that any morning before the last few months of his life, when I would look into the bedroom around the time he would be waking, I could see the blankets moving in a rhythmic action. I'm glad he had that pleasure and I was sorry we weren't able to share the experience anymore.
I had a therapist at the time who thought of me as "good" in the way he wanted me to be "good." He assumed that Will and I weren't having sex because Will was like a child in his dementia. Nope. It was the dick with a hat. This therapist also assumed that I had quit a Friends With Benefits relationship in 2012 because I was growing up emotionally and feeling remorse. Nope. I quit it because my "lover" got fat and that wasn't part of the bargain. (When one is having a sexual affair, it behooves one to remain sexy looking.)
A sad thing for me is that Will remained sexy-looking to me until his death -- even with all his seborrheic keratosis that made him look rather leopardy.
And I'm still attracted to tall, thin men with beards.
Oh, and handsome guys. And beautiful women. Well, pretty much any slender person with even facial features and a friendly smile.
But the thought of all the work that sex at my age would require just makes me tired.
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