Phoenix Fights

Fighting the FEAR, depression and BDP on a daily basis AND making my own bread. Bring it on 2016….


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MRS MOJO RISIN’……

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So just to update you on my Scary Man Juice (aka testosterone gel) treatment, since applying it (albeit tiny amounts as I am fwightened) I have, of late, felt something of a stirring down there……

I’ve also had strange, random, erotic dreams, (which, you will be relieved to hear, I will not go into on here) and, as I can’t blame my usual mixing alcohol with my meds habit, I think it’s fair to say something is happening.

So whilst I wouldn’t go as far as to say I feel horny, last night I had a bit of a tingle, and as I couldn’t get to sleep, I decided to have a play and see if my orgasm was working again.  For the sole purpose of reporting back in this blog of course……

Please don’t close this page, this isn’t going to be some female porno wankfest, I promise!

So  initial signs were promising.  Arousal was swift and it was fair to say that pretty much from the onset it felt like orgasm was only seconds and a slightly firmer stroke away.  But, again for science purposes only 🙂 , I dragged it out as long as possible, hoping for a better return as it were.

The overall sensation stayed the same.  Very intense, almost peri climatic, but pretty much ‘Get on with it, I’m ready to go here!’ rather than the slow, steady, gradual but amazingly rewarding journey I was used to.  So as soon as I realised this, I listened up and went for it, hoping for a glorious return to the heaven I once knew and loved.

Hmmm.

OK, if I’d never had a proper orgasm before, I might have thought this was fantastic.  But I have.  So I didn’t.  ‘Cos it wasn’t.

Let’s use the Rollercoaster analogy again.

If my real orgasm was a rip roaring, ride of thrills, spills and excitement with lots of different levels, dips and climbs that once it got started, seemed as it it would never end, until eventually, breathless, exhausted, totally satiated, you just  had to come down before you passed out?

An my pre Scary Man juice orgasm was an ancient old rollercoaster where the rusty old car slowly and painfully chugged to the top of the lowest peak, then, just when you thought it might make it over, it rattled, creaked, groaned and broke down leaving you stuck, totally dissatisfied and wishing you’d never got on the damn thing in the first place?

In this orgasm the car raced you to the top so fast you almost got a nose bleed, then just as you hit the peak, and almost flew over, it then ran out of gas, hissed as the tyres deflated then slid slowly into the dip below and stayed there.  Rocking, throbbing and humming annoyingly.

In sum, ‘It’s an orgasm Jim, but not as we know it.’ 😦 😦

And it might be enough, if a nice big willy slid in there afterwards and added a whole new dimension to the experience, but as it is I’m just left squirming and arching, trying to rid myself of an unsatisfied throb/burn that didn’t abate for a good half hour or so.  Grrr.

So, on the plus side, things seem to be going in the right direction.

But riding solo?  No go.

Never was a woman, so alone, so alone 😦

I don’t normally request comments, but please if there are any peri or postmenopausal women reading this I’d love to know how you are faring when it comes to the Big ‘O’?

Also, anyone whose anti depressants or other meds are affecting them?

In the meantime, I’m off out to buy some shoes, get some Haagan Dazs, and punch a passing traffic warden or something.

Over and out.