The night was clear and the wind blew softly over a nearby lake. Silver-textured moon beams spread across the bed where a couple was locked in sexual intercourse, emitting sounds of pleasure and disappointment in the final moments of their mating.
"Oh God! Don't stop! I'm so hot," a woman's voice cried out.
Jim Washburn could feel his wife's hands dig into his buttocks. Her hips were rotating under his body as she tried to counteract his increasingly flaccid erection and bring it back to life. She reached down and stroked the shaft of his penis methodically, pinching and rubbing the tip; however, she could feel it softening in her grasp. Disheartened, she turned to the side and began to rub her clitoris in ever-increasing circular motions until she uttered a sharp cry. Her legs had lifted in a final spasm as she reached orgasm.
Once again, Jim Washburn was relegated to the role of an observer who massaged his wife's breasts and stroked her thighs in a supportive role.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said. "I tried but I just can't seem to last." His wife, Marylene, patted his face and said reassuringly, "It's okay. We'll work this out."
She had really been patient for the last few years with his intermittent E. D. At forty years old, Jim had experienced irregular sexual performances; he did very well at times but, more and more, he could feel his confidence wane as he approached climax. He would go from his customary rigid state to a premature softening and collapse that increased his frustration and left his wife unfulfilled and disappointed.
A few months ago they had seen Jim's internist who had given him some pills. At times, these seemed to be working. His performance level improved...he even thought things were back to normal. Sadly, however, after a few weeks, the medication became less and less effective. Jim re-entered the spiral of frustration and anger at himself that only made the condition worse.
Friends whom he confided in gave him a variety of tips that they found useful in their marriages. After following their advice, he still had not recovered his regularity...certainly not what it should be for a man in the prime of life. He even tried suggestions in a book devoted to "curing" your E. D. that proved to be ineffectual.
He knew he was lucky to have such an understanding wife. Marylene was still a very attractive woman. At thirty-eight, her body had fared well after three children. Her breasts were still full and well-shaped with large aureola around the nipples.
She looked good in a bathing suit and, at the beach, she was often the object of male stares. Once, as she passed in front of a group of college-age youth, she could hear "wolf whistles" that made her laugh.
Early in their marriage, like many young couples, they had been very sexually active. Jim's performance was almost mechanical if he were aroused. In fact, there were times, especially in public, when Jim had to hide his erection when he brushed against his wife. Marylene would tease him about his "sensuality."
At parties when they had drunk a little too much, she would, in a discrete manner, rub his crouch just to feel his penis grow hard. It was an awkward situation that they often laughed about later. She had labeled him "the walking hard on" in a playful manner when he approached her at the end of an evening and the house was quiet. She looked forward to those erotic moments.
The children came along in due time, equally spaced apart (at around two years). Michael, the oldest, was a difficult birth but Susan, their second born, was much easier and Allison, the latest, was more of an accident than planned for, but they had welcomed her as eagerly as they had the other two.
Since all children were still at home--Michael had been accepted at a top-notch college for next year's freshman class; he had acquired enough credits to skip one year in high school--mornings were very busy. Marylene's days were full of household chores, part-time work at a doctor's office, shopping, and a variety of minor tasks. This schedule gave her most of the afternoon to herself. She felt very much in control and was happy in her personal life.
She viewed their sexual problems as something to be dealt with step by step. Everything would be all right, she told herself whenever there was an "episode." Jim was just going through a "bad patch."
At forty going on forty-one, Jim Washburn was a successful engineer with the local utilities company. His job had placed him on a fast track for promotion and he found himself incredibly busy at times. Both Marylene and he had discussed taking a family vacation to Hawaii or Disneyland in California just to break the everyday, monotonous pattern. It would give them something to look forward to. The children were all in favor of getting away...just like the Chevy Chase family holiday movies. Daughter Susan had even chosen a daring bikini that her mother did not approve of.
On the outside, everything seemed normal: they were a typical suburban family with many interests and two doting parents who followed their children's activities with interest. Jim even found time to attend an occasional PTA meeting at Allison's school. Marylene volunteered her time at bake sales and other school-related events.
Deep down inside, the issue of Jim's sexual failure became a subject of primary concern...at least for him. For a while he thought about consulting once again a "sex therapist" but he hesitated: it meant dragging Marylene to another "tell-all session" with a complete stranger. There would be, of course, no guaranteed results. It would entail a humiliating confession about the most intimate portion of their lives. She would not be in favor of exposing herself again to a judgmental arbiter whose prognosis would require a radical alteration of their sex life...something they had tried before.
One evening, after Marylene had gone to bed, Jim stayed up to watch a murder mystery series on television that he found fascinating. He was on the point of going out to the kitchen for a snack when a commercial came on that made him stop and pay attention. The announcer, a middle-aged actor with premature greying hair, was sitting on the edge of a bed. At his side was a younger, almost voluptuous actress whose hand was placed in a consoling manner on his upper arm. A background male voice spoke up: "Sorry, I know you're disappointed but I can't seem to help myself..." Jim came back into the room as the voice continued. The woman stroked her partner's arm and laid her head against his shoulder in a compassionate manner.
"Darling, you're too young to have to suffer like this. Doctor Philibert has discovered a miracle procedure to help you become the dynamic lover you once were. Let's make an appointment and get his advice." A detailed and somewhat suspect description of the treatment followed with an e-mail address and a telephone number for you to call right away. Highly trained specialists were waiting to answer your questions.
