Erectile Dysfunction- What Worked for us

by Jacob Clark

  And always, one of two things happens.

  Either all of that together, coaxes my penis to get erect, and I crawl onto the bed with Michelle and put myself into her and we make love the way we once did before the ED monster came along.

  Or it doesn’t work and we try something else in our toolbox instead.

  If the former happens, we’ve discovered two things that help the situation tremendously. First, if I get an erection, we don’t have to mess with lubricants. Michelle is plenty wet already from playing with herself. And I’m plenty lubed up from using the warming oil. So it’s just a matter of climbing into the bed and slipping it in.

  That’s important because, as you’ve already found out, getting the erection is only half the battle. Keeping it is the other half. And getting an erection, only to have to stop long enough to lubricate it, is almost a guarantee it’ll start to get soft again.

  The other thing we noticed is that, using this method of arousal, I almost never go soft once I’m inside of her. With some of the other methods we use, I have to get moving and keep moving once my penis is in her. If I stop stroking for even a moment to catch my breath, I begin to soften.

  With this particular method, using mutual masturbation as foreplay, that’s not usually the case. Once I slip myself inside of her I’ll typically stay hard until she has another orgasm. She’ll let me know when she’s close and I’ll try to time mine to match hers.

  Exactly why that is, I don’t know. I suppose it has to do with me watching her in rapt anticipation of knowing what’s coming (no pun intended). While I’m masturbating I’m very intently watching every move her body makes…

  Every sound she makes.

  Watching her masturbate, or watching her watch me while I masturbate, is very stimulating.

  Which is, of course, the whole purpose.

  From Michelle:

  I think what I like most about watching him masturbate is that the closer I put my face to his cock the more excited he gets. I literally put my face inches from it. Close enough to smell its musky smell. Close enough to see the moisture leak out of the tip. Close enough to catch it in my mouth. Although I’ve never developed a taste for the stuff I have caught it and swallowed it a few times. That’s a personal choice between you and your man.

  From Jacob:

  There’s only one drawback about this, and depending on how you define “having sex,” you may not consider it a drawback at all. If that makes no sense, allow me to explain.

  Many people view the word “sex” as being interchangeable with the word “intercourse.” The whole purpose of getting an erection is to have intercourse, and that’s how they always end their night of lovemaking.

  If that describes you and your partner, then mutual masturbation might not be for you. More on that in a minute.

  Many other couples, like Michelle and I, define sex in a different way. Pretty much anything involving our genitals that feels good and results in at least one of us (hopefully both) having at least one orgasm (hopefully several) to us… counts as sex.

  In other words, we don’t necessarily have to have intercourse to be fulfilled. We can do lots of other stuff instead.

  So, for us, obtaining an erection isn’t necessarily just so I can put it inside her, although I frequently do. Sometimes I get an erection so she can jerk me off, or suck me off, or so I can jerk off in front of her.

  If you are a couple which always ends the night with intercourse, this method might not be appropriate for you and here’s why…

  Remember a few pages back we discussed learning how to hold some back? Not to ejaculate fully, but rather to leave some semen in your testicles for the next time?

  I’d like for all you guys to try to master that technique. Even if you can’t master it, but can learn to do it to some degree will help with your ED issue.

  The problem is, it’s extremely difficult to hit that tiny window and stop short your ejaculate when you’re masturbating.

  No, I don’t know why.

  When I ejaculate during intercourse, I can stop the flow of my semen at least seven or eight out of ten times.

  When I masturbate it’s more like two out of ten times.

  You might ask why that’s important. Here’s why: If you masturbate for the express purpose of getting hard or staying hard, with the intention of inserting yourself into your wife’s vagina as the end goal, it’s easy to go “too far.” You might mean to ejaculate “a little” and then to save the rest for intercourse.

  But if you’re like me, there’s a good chance you’ll ejaculate every drop of your semen and will be done for the night.

  If that does happen, try not to be disappointed. After all, you and your wife have just shared something very intimate together. And while it might not have been what you expected, you can still take the time to pleasure her in any number of ways, and then try the intercourse thing another night.

  First, though, you have to get over the stigma that many people have about masturbation.

  This is the 21st century. We have lots of cool things now, like electricity and vehicles that move without the aid of horses. We’ve been to the moon. And not only do women have the right to vote, they’re able to do any damn thing a man can do.

  Yet many of us are still stuck in the mindset of the 19th century when it comes to masturbation.

  It’s okay. Seriously.

  Get over it.

  Erectile Dysfunction Tool Box Thus Far: 15 Items

  1. Frequent penis stimulation

  2. Pin stimulation to penis head

  3. Eat well. Diet is everything

  4. Enlist your doctor’s help

  5. A good selection of written erotica

  6. Play. Experiment. Find new things to love

  7. Water is our friend. Drink lots of it.

  8. Limit caffeine

  9. Ice can be nice

  10. Try warming oils as a stimulant

  11. Porn as a visual mood setter

  12. ED Medications as a backup, not as a go-to

  13. Learn to save some for a rainy day

  14. Change the mechanics of how you make love

  15. Whack your wiener for her. She’ll enjoy it

  and it’ll help with the ED

  Chapter 14: Step on a Scale, Guys

  Losing a few extra pounds can make a huge difference

  Okay, guys, let’s be honest here. By show of hands, how many of you have picked up a few extra pounds as you got older?

  Yeah, we thought so.

  From Jacob:

  Paul, my doctor, is one of those freakishly weird people who can eat anything he wants and not gain an ounce.

  I hate him. I want to beat him over the head with a 1966 Chevy Impala. I probably would, but I can’t lift it. Paul should be banished from the earth along with the other genetic freakazoids like him and forced to live out their days on the moon. Maybe green cheese will be the one thing which finally makes him fat.

  Actually, I’m kidding. I don’t hate Paul at all. He’s a very good friend.

  If anything, I’m jealous of Paul, because I always wanted to be one of those guys.

  Me, if I’m walking down the street and pass a Dunkin’ Donuts, I have to hold my breath. Because if I inhale and catch the mere scent of a glazed donut, the button pops off my pants and my waist size miraculously increases two sizes.

  Michelle and I frequent an outstanding Italian restaurant called Orlando’s. Paul and his wife Linda are frequently our dinner guests because Paul, although he’s a successful doctor and owns a yacht and not one, but two classic BMWs, is at heart a cheapskate.

  He knows I love Orlando’s and will go there at the drop of a hat, and he knows I usually pick up the tab. So he suggests it often.

  Also, I think he enjoys torturing me.

  He knows that I’ll order a half portion of cannelloni, and will force myself to eat a salad before I can touch my entrée. He knows that I will look at the basket full of garlic bread s
pears and will drool to the point a long line of saliva runs nonstop into my lap and soaks my trousers. But I won’t partake of it.

  Meanwhile, he’ll order the all-you-can-eat pasta extravaganza and will get plate after plate of the stuff.

  He’s a sadist.

  That’s why he must leave this earth and go straight to the fiery pits of hell.

  Paul is one of those guys who hit the genetic lottery. He can eat whatever he wants, as much as he wants, and he doesn’t gain weight. Further, he’s relatively healthy.

  I’m not that way. I have to watch what I eat, because if I didn’t I’d blow up like the Goodyear blimp.

  The only solace I have is knowing I’m not alone.

  There are vastly more men of my age who are like me than are like Paul.

  Odds are, many of you are like me as well.

  It’s not our fault. That’s not what I’m implying at all.

  It’s partly genetics, and partly just a sad side effect of aging.

  And I don’t have to lecture you about it, because that’s your doctor’s job.

  Paul has the lines memorized. I know, because he says it exactly the same way every single time I go in for my physical.

  Paul: I want you to lose another fifteen pounds.

  Me: Screw you.

  Paul: I’m serious. Fifteen more pounds.

  Me: I’m serious too. Screw you.

  Paul: It’ll give you more energy.

  Me: I don’t need any more energy. I write for a living. I sit at my keyboard. How much energy do I need to work a keyboard?

  Paul: You’ll be able to wear all those clothes in your closet that got too tight but you couldn’t bring yourself to throw out. Just think of it. You can once again wear that lime green leisure suit you kept from the 1970s.

  Me: The one I wore to your first wedding?

  Paul: I think it was my fourth wedding, but yes.

  Me: Screw the old clothes. I need new ones anyway.

  Paul: If you lose fifteen pounds you’ll live longer.

  Me: Living longer is way overrated.

  Paul: It may help with your erectile dysfunction.

  Me: (silent)

  Then, Me: Okay, you slimy bastard. You’ve got my attention. Tell me more.

  It turns out that shedding just a few pounds can dramatically reduce your erection problems. I don’t know how, and Paul himself couldn’t say for sure. He said studies have been performed all over the world that indicate men who already have ED have fewer problems as they shed excess weight. He says nobody is quite sure why. But that it’s not surprising.

  After all, studies have also shown that when you shed those few extra pounds you can help yourself in a lot of different ways.

  Diabetics find it easier to control their blood sugar level.

  People with heart issues have fewer heart issues.

  We have more energy. It’s suddenly easier to go for those evening walks we’ve been putting off for years.

  We’re less stressed.

  Which, by the way, we’re going to discuss in a minute.

  So losing a few pounds is kind of a no-brainer. The fact most of us haven’t done it isn’t because we don’t know we should do it and need to do it.

  It’s because it’s damn hard.

  After all, those pounds go on a heck of a lot easier than they come off, am I right? Can I get an amen, brother?

  Doctors have what they call an “ideal weight.” Your doc can tell you what yours is. It’s based on your height. That’s how, no matter how much you suck in your gut at physical time, he knows instantly whether you’ve been following his advice to lose a few pounds or whether you’ve been giving into your urge to have an extra slice of pizza.

  My ideal weight is 194 pounds. I haven’t weighed 194 pounds since college.

  But at least knowing my ideal weight gives me a goal to shoot for, even if I know I’ll never achieve it.

  I weighed myself this morning. I weigh 204. Ten pounds overweight, according to Paul’s “Magical Chart of Sadistic Body Weight Standards.”

  I’ve been trying to get to 194 for awhile now. Michelle tells me I should just stop, be happy I’ve made it to 204 (I once weighed 244) and maintain it at 204.

  “It’s not a bad weight for you,” she says. “You look better than you have in a very long time.”

  Deep down I know she’s right. I look damn good. I feel better after losing those forty pounds, my blood sugar numbers look better and I feel more virile. And my penis does indeed get harder.

  But I want to lose those last ten pounds so I can shut Paul the hell up. Just once, I’d like to go into my physical without giving the bastard the pleasure of saying those words:

  “You still need to lose a few more pounds.”

  By the way, I’m going to kidnap Paul later and tie him up, then drive him to the Grand Canyon and throw him in. Any of you guys want to help?

  From Michelle:

  Jacob asked me to finish this chapter because he said he was starting to lecture you guys. He said he was starting to sound like Paul. And that’s not the intent of this book. The intent of this book is to help you. Not to pound something into your head that you already know.

  He also wasn’t going to share with you the way he lost those forty pounds.

  He said dieting and weight loss are very personal things. They’re different for everybody. Each of us has to find that diet that works best for us, and what helps one person lose weight might not work for others.

  But I’m his wife and I’ve overruled him.

  After all, I’m the boss of us. It’s been that way since we met. He’d argue the point, but he’d be wrong.

  Here’s the way I feel on the matter:

  We went into this project with the knowledge there are a lot of different things which contribute to ED, and a lot of (possible) solutions to help deal with it.

  We also knew going in that some things worked better for some men than they did for others. And that we’d list everything we tried to help with our ED problem which worked for us to some degree.

  And realistically, we felt that Paul’s weight loss did indeed help with the ED problem. We’ll never know to what degree, since we were also trying a lot of other methods while he was in the process of losing the weight. But it did help.

  So we’d be remiss in overlooking that aspect and not talking about it. If Jacob doesn’t want to discuss it further for fear of sounding like he’s lecturing you, then fine. He can go watch the news.

  Like I said, am the boss, so I’ll talk to you about it myself.

  But I won’t lecture you.

  The subtitle of this book is “What Worked for Us.”

  So I’ll merely tell you how Jacob lost his forty pounds. It may or may not work for you. If it does, that’s awesome and congratulations.

  If it doesn’t, find another method which does work for you. Lose those extra pounds if you need to. It’ll help with the ED, and it’ll probably help you live longer too.

  So what have you got to lose?

  Besides a few extra pounds, I mean.

  Jacob blames his problem with weight on genetics. And to be honest, there have been some very heavy men in his family.

  So the genetics thing may hold water.

  But then again, the men in his family love to eat. I’ve seen his brothers put away three plates of pasta at a sitting. So there’s that too.

  Anyway, here’s what worked for us and helped Jacob lose those stubborn pounds.

  For us, it was just a matter of making a few lifestyle changes.

  When he was raised, Jacob wasn’t allowed to leave the table until his plate was clean. The first thing he told our kids when they had kids of their own was to not carry on that tradition.

  My daughter asked “Why?”

  Jacob said, “Because it’ll become engrained in their psyche that food is not to be left behind. For the rest of their lives they’ll make a habit of always eating everything on their plates, even if they
’re stuffed and don’t need it.”

  And it’s true.

  I’ve seen him stuff himself to the gills, almost to the point of throwing up. Yet he always eats that last bite and leaves his plate squeaky clean.

  Here’s how we solved that…

  I simply put up all of our regular sized dinner plates.

  I’d have thrown them away, but we entertain dinner guests a couple of times a month. When we do, I drag out the regular dinner plates and use them to serve our guests.

  On those nights, however, Jacob and I still use our dessert plates.

  Yes, you read that right. We eat all our meals on dessert plates.

  They’re only half the size of a regular dinner plate, and therefore only hold half as much food.

  When I first served them I took Jacob by surprise, as I hadn’t told him beforehand about the switch.

  He said, “Honey, we need a new dishwasher. The old one shrunk the dishes.”

  I said, “Nope. We’re going to use these from now on. They hold less food so we’ll eat less. And I’m in it right along with you.”

  He said, “How big are these plates?”

  I said, “I measured them. They’re eight inches long.”

  He said, “Hey. Me too.”

  I said, “I know, honey. That’s the only reason I put up with your foolishness.”

  I have to admit there’s more than a grain of truth in that.

  Anyway, that was the first thing we did.

  And believe it or not, it works.

  Jacob was generally close to full when he finished half his larger plate anyway. He kept on eating until it was empty.

  Now, he eats smaller portions from a smaller plate and is generally satisfied without feeling the need to go back for more.

  The second thing we did was go into the whole diet thing together.

  Just as we decided to tackle the whole ED thing as a team, we used the same united front philosophy to tackle the diet.

  Our logic was sound. The quickest way for a diet to fail is for the dieter to see someone close to him eating things he can’t.