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My best guy friend and I recently acknowledged that there is a sexual attraction between us, and have transitioned from flirting to making out. We were on the way to officially consummating the relationship the other day when hormones and nerves caused my rational thought process to shut down and I made a joke that backfired and killed the mood. As a result, he was unable to perform.
I know that he is embarrassed, even though when we talk thing seem normal. I am struggling with how to address this, if I should address this, or just let it go? The last thing I want to do is to make it worse. I am embarrassed by my inability to think before I speak, but I don’t want to make it about me, so not to cast myself as the damsel in distress, but “Help me dude, you are my only hope.”
— Red in the Face
Dear Red in the Face,
Skip the health class on “penis sensitivity training” day? Here’s a recap of what you’ve learned the, well, the soft way (oh, behave!): The libido can be influenced by the power of suggestion. The force can sway a man’s sexual confidence toward the light or the dark side. Unfortunately, you scared the one-eyed monster back into his fleshy cage. Don’t worry though, and don’t think less of his coital skills because of this incident. The cliché says it all: it happens to every guy on occasion. Unfortunately, that fact doesn’t penetrate (wah, wah) until it happens.
No one is beyond a little performance anxiety if you mix the right embarrassing circumstances in the proper sexual cauldron. Is there the occasional fellow with testes of steel in tune with his sexual prowess to the point of psychoses that never fails to rise to the occasion despite alcohol poisoning, food poisoning, mercury poisoning, or chronic fatigue syndrome? I never say never as a rule of thumb because I hate admitting the impossible. Let’s call such a specimen the Holy Grail of the bump-and-grind. You, lucky frau who found him, “chose…wisely.” Fortunately, momentary fear of f*cking can be easily rectified (…I’m not necessarily suggesting ass play).
Step 1: STOP TALKING ABOUT IT! Yeah, I know, this is the modern age. We should all talk about everything to death. Well, look, if you’re thrust into the life of a government spy because your former best friend accidentally set you up to download the combined NSA/CIA database then, sure, find a shrink. For something like this, the more you talk about it the more you get him thinking about it. The more he thinks about it, the more he’ll over think about it, which will cause his brain to out think his d*ck to the point of penile paralysis. Thus, you have prolonged the problem.
Despite the stereotype, there actually is one brain, in his big head, not his little head (proportionally speaking). You upset the big giant head and the little giant head is going to keep hiding from you. With me so far? Good! Go for Barney!
Step 2: Molestation. Yeah, it sounds dirtier than it actually is (unless you’re doing it right). You have to, er, pump his sexual confidence. This means one thing: make him feel like the sexiest man alive (that’s right, call him George Clooney and take him to Vegas to rob 160 million dollars one weekend). Sext him, fondle him, tell him you’re getting turned on just imagining him naked, or literally just jump him when he walks into a room. For we all know the greatest element of attack is the element of surprise! Hey, men spend most of their brain power trying to come up with ways to stroke your ego, time to rub his the right way. Just, you know, return the favor. ‘Nuff said.
Finally, an even more practical solution: initiate when he’s asleep. Why? Because HIS BRAIN WILL BE SHUT OFF. The body will react before his neuroses. This is often an easy and effective way to alleviate the problem. Next time he’s unconscious, start working your way south. He’ll be hard before he can adjust his eyes to the dark. The moment he’s ready for take-off, you launch on top of him, and no matter how long it lasts (30 seconds or 525,600 minutes) you let him know you were satisfied. Then, repeat this for a few more nights. His confidence will be refilled faster than a Parsons student’s Adderall prescription during finals week.
Just take this advice and call me in the morning. Unless, you know, he’s got morning wood. Which he probably will. Because he’s a guy. And that always happens. Just saying.
Helping love spring eternal,