One desperate time, with tears in my eyes, I asked him what would have been the right answer for him not to torture me. He said it should have been maximum 2, but he would have preferred really zero. I was 35 — and it was above his limit of 0 or 2.
This. Man. Is. A. Cunt.
I hope you dumped him summarily, told him to shove his virginity bullshit up his tight little asshole and sent him to some evangelical sect where he could play pedophile all he wants. It’s a free cuntry, if you will pardon the pun.
What. A. Piece. Of. Shite.
I have been single most of my adult life. That means I have eschewed most LTRs, albeit I did have a few late in life. At 66 I have had plenty of experience. I like men, and I’ve enjoyed sex, what there was of it that was decent. Most of them are dusty and forgotten, and by every single measure, the vast majority are VERY forgettable. You don’t get decent in bed by being a virgin all your your life. You also learn what works, what doesn’t, who lies about their prowess and who doesn’t, who’s a decent kisser and who sucks (literally). You do not get that by twiddling your thumbs. You learn only through trying, and that trying also teaches you and me how to say Stop, No, That hurts, Don’t do that and a million other useful phrases for the idiots among us who think that pain is pleasure. Emotional or otherwise.
The way I see it, Zita, and this doesn’t make me right, is that people who are put off by experienced folks (and I most certainly am that) is they are terrified of being compared. As was your moronic BF. A numnut in the bedroom who is sleeping with someone who has zero experience is a god. Get a little experience, turns out he’s a numnut in the bedroom.
That fucking terrifies both sexes, but much more so men.
That’s my take. At this age I don’t frankly give a flying shit any more. If I ever get laid again I will be monumentally surprised, but not necessarily grateful. Because in my experience, and this is righteously unfortunate, most men do not have a goddamned clue about female anatomy, being quite happy to get off as quickly as possible with the least amount of investment and biggest bragging rights.
Your number is nobody’s goddamned fucking beeswax. We all do what we do, did what we did, and it was the best we could do under the circumstances. Anyone who makes a BFD about is disposable.
But that’s just me.