Ah, youth, so wasted on the young. In my youth I thought I was a fine lover, that I pleased my partners, brought them happiness and pleasure. They seemed to enjoy, I thought they did. Yet, in looking back, and in reading your words I cannot help but wonder if, perhaps, I failed them in my own eagerness and passions.
I think that it has not been until the last few years, when I have grown to be a man of gray hair and some of the infirmities of age that I have become the lover I should have been when I was a young man. I have learned, I have slowed down, I have learned to linger and explore sensuality rather than seek new highs or think that planting my proud staff in willing mounds was all that was needed.
However, the process has not been one of solitary endeavor. I have had partners who, by my preference, have been of my own age. Confident women, intelligent women, experienced women who have known better than to simply lay back and hope for better experiences. They have taught me, and I them, and in all of it there is one thing I am more certain of than I am in anything else. After the sex is done, what is really the most important thing of all is knowing that one’s heart is held safe and dear and will not be put at risk.