Page 42 of Take It Offline

And his voice?

As smooth as silk and twice as seductive. He could probably disarm a bomb with a simple flirtation and a flash of his dimples.

From the bespoke suits, all the way to his polished brogues, Charlie is formidable in a way I’ve never mastered but have always aspired to be.

There’s more to him than I anticipated, and the curiosity is leading me into dangerous territory.

I spent years trying to be a perfect child.

Straight As, gymnastics, volunteer work, entry into a prestigious college—even my love life wasn’t spared.

At the end of every failed date and broken relationship, I’ve sat down and asked myself, why? What didn’t work, and how I can fix it?

No matter the man, it kept coming back to one little problem.Me.

I have an issue sealing the deal, as it were.

Or, more specifically, I have a problem finishing. Climaxing. Coming. And it drove them all away.

Life is about more than sex, and it’s certainly about more than money. Life is about laughter and friends and family. Wine and burgers at midnight. Chocolate and slim-fit waistcoats and crying at movies. Solving a problem that’s been bothering me for weeks.

But I want a lifewithsex.

I like sex. I think. I love orgasms when I have them. I adore the sleepy, lazy afterglow where all I want to do is curl up, skin to skin, next to somebody.

I want so badly to enjoy sex. But unless I’m alone, I can’t come.

And I don’t know why.

I talked to a sex therapist. I talked to a regular therapist. And too many times, I’ve tried to think my way out of the issue, going round and round in my head over what could be stopping me.

And no, it’s not overstimulation from toys. It’s not porn or the number of kegels I haven’t done or any number of the other reasons men have offered me.

Honestly? Good porn paired with a clit vibe has done more for me than anything else has.

It’s like being hungry but never feeling full unless you’re eating Oreos in a closed pantry with the lights out. It’s good, but sometimes I want to eat a full meal. Plus dessert.

So, like every other problem I’ve come up against in life, I refuse to let this stop me.

If there’s a way to work this out, I’ll find it. It’s all in the approach.

I’ve gotten extremely good at getting myself off. I have a box full of toys, a subscription to Quinn, and the results of multiple kink quizzes.

I’ve done my research.

Hours upon hours of extensive research.

And I think I know what the problem is.

I’m not insecure about my looks or personality. I’ll say it… I’m a catch. I have given men some of the best orgasms of their life. Emphasis ontheirorgasms.

I focus on meeting their needs while putting myself aside. And boy, am I phenomenal at putting myself aside.

I’m so focused on them, it’s impossible to stop thinking and relax.

Are they enjoying themselves? Are they getting annoyed that this is taking too long? Am I moaning enough? Can I scratch that itch, or will it ruin the mood? Should I just tell them to tap out before they get lock jaw?

Every one of those guys who swore in the beginning it was okay that I didn’t come became frustrated in the end. Even Logan, who lasted the longest.

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