Today was a classic British Bank Holiday Monday for the simple reason it rained all day and felt like everyone was waiting for tomorrow.
It's an annual British cliche that it rains on Bank Holiday Mondays. Mind you it usually does. Today was no different. It felt like a Sunday from the 70's. For those of you old enough to remember what one of those was like.
If you're not old enough let me explain. Have you ever sat in a Doctors waiting room waiting to be seen? That's what Sunday's used to be like back then. It was a long slow painful day where nothing was open, apart from a corner shop. Pubs closed at lunchtime until the evening. There was no Internet, computer games, mobile phones, what's App, texting, digital TV. You had 3 channels and a video recorder you just knew your Mum had recorded Coronation Street over something you wanted to watch. There wasn't even live sport or football. You'd get the Big Match highlights, if you were lucky, followed by Police 5.
It was a day to spend with your family, even though everyone was bored. The streets were deserted, there was hardly anything to do and it felt like everyone was just counting down the hours until they had to go back to work/school the next day. Once the theme tune to All Creatures Great and Small or 'Last of The Summer Wine' came one the misery was complete.
That's been the feeling in the camp today. Like an old school Sunday. Luckily we now have 100 channels, Internet, phones, apps, messaging to while away the hours of boredom whilst it rains until we have to go back to normality tomorrow. It's the same thing, we just have more 'stuff' now.
Luckily I've felt completely lazy today and done bugger all. I've been in my pants at home since 4pm and the incessant rain has enabled me to indulge in doing nothing guilt free. There is nothing I'd rather be doing today than laying horizontally idly reading a book, grazing on grub and watching an occasional movie. Even blinking was an effort today.
The two most strenuous things I have done was to make love to my girlfriend and go to an AA meeting. Now for the integrity of this blog, my relationship and you reading. I wont go into too much detail about either. After all reading about someone else's sex life is like hearing your parents at it when you were a kid. It's wrong, embarrassing and well, just wrong, again.
However, I'm not sure if it's the same for other blokes but after a bit if rumpy In the morning I always catch the incurable knackered disease and feel like sleeping for 12 days. I seem to have a 10 Min's kip zone. If I can keep my eyes open for 10 minutes then I'm OK, I perk up and I'm ready to face the day. However if those eyes shut. Boom. I'm gone for a good hour or two in the deepest sleep. Never to truly recover my energy.
Women don't seem to have the same affliction. They seem pretty sprightly after nuptials. But us guys. Jesus Christ, it's like we've just had 15 rounds with Carl Froch and George Groves. We're a wreck. Totally useless. Well, I am anyway.
Why do we get so knackered after? Scientifically there must be an answer. It can't be just bone idleness. If you've only lasted for 5 minutes and fall asleep after you're a disgrace to manhood. That's not on. Those sort of men are the ones who have trouble reverse parking. They're a fucking menace girls and best to be avoided.
No, if like me you put you're heart and soul into it and give it a good hour or so, then I think you've earned your kip afterwards. Not just that but a pat on the back and a bacon sandwich.
It's like you've just been shooting up testosterone for an hour. All that surge of adrenaline, lust and testosterone culminating in a spunk bomb renders you useless. Kip is not only welcome. It's inevitable.
God forbid boys if you've bagged a woman who likes to do it 4 or 5 times. Christ you're in for a rough time then. That's something guys just cant open up about. People just don't want to hear you moaning about getting too much. That you are deprived of sleep because of you're girlfriends insatiable horn.
You can get away with it if you have young kids and you haven't had sleep for months. Then you will get bucket loads of sympathy. But if you start blathering on about sleep deprivation because your woman goes more than the shit house door when the plagues in town. Well you better steel yourself for some abuse. Quite right too.
The simple fact is that blokes need kip after sex. It's a medical fact. The trick though boys is to make sure you've given her a hug, kiss, told her she's amazing, asked if her orgasm was real and then you are clear to kip peacefully.
The problem is if you've shot your load and she hasn't reached orgasm. That's a dilemma. Your eyes are drooping, you're yawning like parent with a new born and she needs to orgasm. That is hell on earth right there. You are faced with a huge dilemma.
Fail to complete the job and you have to suffer the consequences. Not only will you be indebted to her in some way but probably on the receiving end of some kind of silent scorn. A woman won't actually tell her she's resentful or indeed may say "It's no big deal." But believe me it is. That kind of resentment gets buried for years.
Not only that but your male pride will be affected. If your cant make you're woman orgasm then it gnaws away at your manhood. Clawing away at your psyche. Forget not being able to reverse park, explain the offside law or work a power tool. If you fail in that department you're cock will literally shrivel overnight. Unless of course you're a man who doesn't give a shit or indeed are gay. In which case this probably isn't the blog for you.
At that stage there is only one thing to do chaps. Emergency measures are required. After all it helps not to be selfish in sex with your loved one. It pays to think of your partner. Of her needs. Of her desires. Of her sexual energy. That is what relationships are all about. Giving. Making each other happy. Going the extra mile.
So don't be selfish boys. If you find yourself drifting off after you've reached orgasm. Don't leave her waiting on hers. It's simple. Just pull out the emergency vibrator from the bedside cabinet, leave it on her side of the bed, place a picture of Zac Effron on her pillow, whisper, 'I love you darling, see you in a couple of hours' and roll over to sleep safe in the knowledge you have selflessly thought of everything.
Of course you may wake up alone in an empty house. But that's the chance you have to take.
It's either that or fight off the inevitable sleep and go down on her for what seems like an eternity until your tongue goes numb, you hallucinate through tiredness and jaw locks. No matter it's not about enjoyment at that stage chaps. It's all about grim determination. You have to get the job done.
Your whole relationship is on the line here. You have to hang in there boys. You can even part sleep if you're experienced enough. Get yourself in that state of REM where you are neither awake or asleep. That way you wont get frustrated after 20 Min's of oral and snap, "when the fuck are you going to come?" That will kill the mood boys. No, keep your trap shut, well a little shut anyway, concentrate on that erogenous zone and keep at it until you get a result. Once she achieves orgasm you can sleep then. Not only that but she will be far more amenable to cook you breakfast and dinner and if you deliver a real belter of an O, she may even give your gaff a quick hoover. Not that we're in it just for a pay off girls. Promise.
Hope you enjoyed your Bank Holiday. I did. Weird blog today but my mind was mush.
Together We Are Stronger
Nicholas E Evans
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