Gasping for breath, I eased down on him, feeling my insides open, my body possessed.But then no more would go in. If I pushed there was this horrible ...rinding ache deep within me, it hurt too much. There were at least three inches to go. I had come this far, dared this much, and I couldn’t take it all. There I was, fifty years old, tears streaming down my face, my dreams lost. He actually looked kind at that moment, saying: “Just start fucking man, you’ll take it.” So I lifted up from him, the. The next day seemed to pass fairly quickly as I threw myself into the various mundane chores around the house, ticking them off a list that had got a little longer since my son's new girlfriend had arrived on the scene. Thankfully none required much, if any, mental acuity, leaving my mind free to replay the events of the previous evening in ever-increasing detail throughout the day. That resulted in a delightful state of continuous semi-arousal for hours, only interrupted by the occasional. More

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