Me

My Shame

This is my secret shame for 54 years…No Penis!

My Penis

Apparently, due to obesity, which has been my companion for 54 years. Seriously, it looks like a vagina with testicles! Doesn’t matter much cause I can barely reach it to pleasure even myself, as much as anyone else. So no matter what I am male? Female? Hermaphrodite? it doesn’t even matter now.

Because of this non-existent penis, I have always been ashamed of my own body, preferring to have sex only in the dark, remaining clothed while I serviced other men/boys. And to make matters worse, I can’t even get an erection anymore – due to diabetes? High blood pressure? Low blood pressure? Weight? I am trying to find out now through my doctor(s).

So more history on how I got so fucked up in the head…

As a school youth, I avoided showering after gym to avoid unnecessary ridicule; I was already being called “gay” and “faggot.” When I started having sex, it was mostly anonymous as a result of being high/drunk – on the beach, cruising; guys I picked up in the bar for one night stands, etc. – so there was not much concern back then, plus I had the advantage of once being aroused, able to get an erection. The detriment I carried forward was the anonymity and the addiction.

I was fortunate once, to encounter Charlie, who taught me there were people that enjoyed big guys and taught me to appreciate and probably even love myself for a short time. Once Charlie and I separated, I returned to what I knew, two-fold.

Today, unable to get an erection, I can’t even act out sexually, when the pressure gets too much, as it must involve drugs. I know because I tried at great risk to myself. I hired a prostitute, who supplied crystal meth and GHB. While he went out to secure a second guy, I was on the phone with a fourth guy. Guy four came while guy two was gone, but I could not go through with it. WTF!? Guy two returned solo, which was probably best, but still the night cost me about $500 and I still was unsatisfied.

I am honest and open about my thoughts and actions with my psychologist and psychiatrist, who have taught me one thing that has really rocked my world. When I introduced the idea that I feel female/male it was suggested that my male persona/half allowed my female persona/half to be abused sexually…Hunger/Fury. Even during my last escapade, I was oblivious to what I was doing and feel that it was grace that prevented me from going further.

Once I get the erection thing solved, I plan on advertising my fat old self to chasers who will appreciate a big guy.

Google Search: “shut in dating”

I love my wit, yet I despair it is dying with my wildest dream of finding someone to love me – or of ever finding myself worthy of love from someone else.

Having had yet another spiritual awakening as a result of the steps, I have a new perspective: I should be looking for the type of guy that likes me the way I am rather than me looking for someone I like to like me as much as I like them: a chubby chaser.

I post a very direct Craig’s list ad for sex, due to “The Green-Horny Parallax Syndrome.” As the syndrome subsides, in the background, Tired by Adele playing…

QuoteI’m tired of trying; Your teasing ain’t enough
Fed up of biding your time when I don’t get nothing back
And for what, and for what, and for what when I don’t get nothing back
Oy, I’m tired…”

I return to the computer to delete my ad out of despair and the realization: my room is unkempt – to be kind; the floor covered with dog hair; and at the suggestion of my psychologist, start typing my drama out. All of a sudden there a tug on the line. This fish is instant lusting that chocolate worm. I remember my new perspective and IT’S ON!

What the fuck am I thinking? I am thinking since my parents are gone, I can use my nephew’s old room. I am taking such a big risk, having been caught in my parent’s bed once before with my second boyfriend. They have only once before made this trip round in one day, so what are my odds?

As a safety measure I call my cousin and we agree she is going to call in half an hour as a safety check. Then she asks “What’s his name?” I don’t know. I am way too excited. He calls: “Did I get his text?” I HATE TEXTING! He asks for face pic. LIGHTBULB! I ask for one in return.

He gets here; I go out to greet him. He is a muscular jock type! WTF! I am so fuckin’ attracted, I can barely contain myself. Of course, cotton-mouth is my enemy. But I finally get him in the room, ask him how he wants to do this, and then immediately take over. Mistake 2: Better customer service would’ve been to let him take over the situation, but again due to the extra self-imposed pressure, I was rushed. If you are paying attention, you might think I forgot something, but I didn’t: Mistake 1: I should have not caused myself undue pressure by using my parent’s house for a hook up.

I was able to do the deed, but not to my own satisfaction. Let me tell you this, though, that boy had me in heaven! He had been asking what else I might be in to? Would I answer the door naked? I did inform him of my safety measure to be up front. If I had been honest and brought him to my room, this post might not have been edited so soon.

I finally call my cousin and I am still giddy. We come to the realization that she has seen my “addictive” personality, which leads me to believe I might be addicted to sex also. It certainly has always played a role in my drug use. Despite old behavior, which we both laugh at, I am being 100% honest. Perhaps that makes me believe that good can win without being evil.

I am still going to research shut-in dating; who knows, I could find a shut-in chub chasers group! 😀 😀 😀