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Not freezing.Which meant there was still a glimmer of hope.
On Sunday morning he’d tried to call Aaron in England, then realised it was the middle of the night in Cambridge.He thought about Aaron tucked up in bed next to Alice and the envy he’d thought all gone hit his gut, hard and sour.Yet again he’d found himself in a game he didn’t understand the rules to, flailing around trying to work out what the hell to do next.Looking in from the outside, like some ragged, grimy-faced kid in a Dickens novel.
By Sunday afternoon his grumpiness had reached new heights.A fat lot of use his year off women had been.He should never have taken Polly’s advice on that.He was now so out of practice he’d almost made an abject fool of himself.
Finally, desperate for a solution, he’d sat down at his laptop and googled premature ejaculation.Because while he knew he hadn’t exactly been Casanova before, he’d never been at risk ofthis.Her kiss, her touch, the way she’d pulled him close and pressed her beautiful body into him, had fundamentally done him in.
And then he’d blown it, by intimating he wanted to take it slow.He hadn’t meant the relationship part, and, no, of course he hadn’t meantnotkissing each other.Jeesh, Judith’s kisses were the best.It was like their lips had been designed by some divine being to fit together perfectly.A kissing prototype made in heaven.
But… but… what if he couldn’tperform?
He guessed pulling back was better than the other possibility… though crickets, it had been a close call.
His eyes scanned the google list of treatments for ejaculatory problems.Finally, he clicked on one from a health channel that looked viable and wasn’t trying to sell him snake oil.
Okay, anxiety could cause it.Yes, tick that box.He was terrified.What was he supposed to do about that?He read on.
Avoid sexual encounters and focus on other aspects of the relationship.Well, hmm, that was all very well, but Judith clearly was hot for him, a fact that still filled him with disbelief.How long could he keep rejecting her advances?Hell, he was equally hot for her.He just needed to manage the major glitch in his anatomy.
Okay, what next?
The pause, squeeze technique.Carts’ eyes widened in horror.This one involved getting close to your orgasm, then asking your partner to squeeze the base of your penis.Oh,Jesussssss.He got up and paced the room, raking fingers through his hair.This was not his idea of making love for the first time with Judith.Gazing deeply into her eyes and asking,would you mind giving my dick a squeeze…?No, not there, a bit lower down…
He forced himself to sit back at his computer and scrolled down the screen.Reduce sensitivity by wearing a condom.Fair enough, that was one piece of sound advice.He’d always been super considerate with safe-sex practices because of course it was as much the guy’s responsibility as the woman’s.But then, what if she wanted to roll the condom on him and he came while she was—he groaned out loud.Oh, fuck NO!
He tried to calm his erratic breathing.Went over to his record collection and studied the spines.Playing some of his favourites from the eighties was usually guaranteed to improve his mood.He removed the first cover that came to hand and his eyes fell on “Tainted Love”.That got shoved back quickly.Next came Marvin Gay’s “Sexual Healing”.Freakin’ unbelievable.Okay, he’d pull one out at random and not look at the title.He dusted the vinyl, placed it carefully on the turntable and put the needle to it.Out came the opening bars of Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s “Relax, (don’t do it)”.He managed a twisted grin at that; there was clearly no escaping his problems through music.He went back to his laptop, chewing hard on the inside of his lip, and read the next gem of wisdom.
Masturbate before a date.Not bloody likely.He got so nervous before seeing Judith his libido sank to below zero and he was worried nothing at all would happen, and then—whoosh,it was heading for the line like the favourite on Melbourne Cup Day.He groaned.Besides, if he did manage to masturbate you could guarantee with his luck, it would end up like that scene out ofThere’s Something About Maryand he’d smear gism in Judith’s beautiful hair.
Totally distracted by thoughts of his weekend misery, Carts found he’d arrived at work without remembering a single traffic light or stop sign.He reached for his entry card and swiped it and a minute later swerved into Ron’s parking spot, relishing the squeal of his tyres on the concrete.Hopefully he’d left rubber marks.Still, it was good not to have to take the train in to work this week.He had to be grateful for the small things right now, because the big ones were at risk of submerging him.
As he gathered up his briefcase and KeepCup, his phone rang.
Aaron.At last.He grabbed it and almost shouted a relieved, “Mate!”
“Maaate.How are you?”
“All the better for hearing from you.Hey, isn’t it late over there?”
“Yeah, nearly midnight.But I saw you called yesterday,” Aaron hesitated, “and I’ve been meaning to phone you anyway.”
“How’s things going in the green and pleasant land?”
“Good.Alice has been trying to educate me about culture and not doing a bad job, to be honest.We spent yesterday on the museum strip in London.Like seriously, the English love preserving old shit, but I have to say, I’m almost getting the appeal.”
Carts laughed.“So you’ll be sending home a container of eighteenth-century chamber pots.”
“Not quite.Though Alice has found a few antiques.And of course, Rowena’s bought up big on leather-bound first editions for the Book Genie.Anyway, how are you, mate?”
“Much the same as when you left.”Aaron and Alice had gone to visit her father in Cambridge, closely followed by Rowena, Alice’s mum.They’d only been gone three months, but at times like this, when he really needed his best mate, it felt more like three years.
Carts changed ears as he opened the car door.“I’ve been hanging out with Dan a bit.Work’s been bloody awful, but I’m in charge this week, because the old bastard’s gone on leave.”
“That must be a relief.”Aaron knew his long-term problem with Ron, they’d stuck pins in him, metaphorically speaking, enough times over a few pints.
“Still doing yoga?”
“You bet.”
