Um, yeah, me too, like, before I was married. Then after.

Pretty much for the same reason - tryin’ to make girls feel better about themselves.

Okay. First time at 19 or 20 and I meet this French girl in a pub. I was with a group and she was tragically alone and punk and pretty. When the closing bell rang we went back to my flat to, ostensibly, smoke some weed and these were the years way, way before HIV/AIDS but when every woman was on the Pill and we (meaning ‘we men’) didn’t keep condoms on hand but expected girls to, like I said, be on the Pill.

I cannot recall this girl’s name to save the Pope’s life (no, I am not harboring the Pope) but she fell into one of my four ‘types’ and I was not an underarm hair novice but, my god, the odor of decaying corpses hit me and I realized that the French are not as concerned about hygiene as we American ex-pats. I soldiered on, though, and faked an orgasm. Some men spend copiously and some do not and I think that she bought my fake orgasm.

When I was 39 I met a woman, Karen, during my first trip to a lavish - mint on the pillow lavish - private mental health facility. Karen was also 39. You may or may not realize how the most attractive and interesting two people in a crowd dance toward one another? Even if you are both coupled, you’re drawn to the other. It’s like some effed-up magic.

In retrospect I can say that hooking up in a mental health facility isn’t, um, smart. My real girlfriend (who I found on Facebook! Back when I looked at Facebook!) was 19-20 at that time and the oldest person that I had slept with would have been my ex-wife, at 32. I had no sexual experiences with women of my own age. But Karen was really attractive - for 39 - and looked to be as fit as one can look in lounging clothes.

So, it’s our third night together and she comes to my room (long story) and we start making out, etc., and I’m a ‘lights on’ person and I see, for the first time, the sagging and patterned and leathered breasts of an old woman. Jeez. Even the skin on her inner thighs sagged. Clothed, she looked the part of Someone’s Nordic Mistress. She had some really nice junk (what are women calling their junk these days?) and I was able to serve my country but I could not then or forevermore come for Karen. Maybe faked it one dozen times?

Yes. I have faked an orgasm 13 times (close enough). In 10 trysts, not 13 during one sitting.