Jerking off and sex are two very different things. Different mindsets, different objectives, usually even different locations. Jerking off goes like this, in recent years: go to my home computer; access porn; stroke self for a few minutes; ejaculate; discard ejaculate; wash hands. Done in under five minutes, without fail. It's not always been so utilitarian, but now that I have a girlfriend, it's something I only do a) when I'm at my place without her, b) I haven't had sex in a couple of days, and (not or, note) c) I find myself kind of distracted by sexual thoughts and want to get to the other side of them. It's not much different from blowing my nose ('cept for the fluids produced, the hole they come out of, and the amount of sound I make - my orgasms have never been compared to an elephant trumpeting, but my nose-blowing has...). It's absolutely never something I've had a problem with.
Sex, too. I have had a good run with being able to perform when I want/ am wanted to perform. I had one self-sabotaging partner for a very short time who had a life narrative about how men lose their erections around her, who ended up putting her monkey on my back for awhile, but that was about the relationship between us, not my penis. I also had a time when I came rather quickly, if a partner was new and I was nervous; I'm pretty sure there is at least one woman out there who has referred to me as a "two pump chump," or at least could have. But now that I actually have a regular girlfriend, I do just fine. It takes longer for me to achieve orgasm during sex, because there are more variables: wanting to please, toe cramps - I have never yet had a toe cramp when masturbating - or, say, when she gets a screaming charley horse and everything has to stop for a bit. Very occasionally we don't get there, if we're tired, if we have something else to do, but generally, we make it to MY orgasm whenever we try. It's a little more of a challenge with her, but I don't think she feels neglected or dissatisfied, and there have been a few times when SHE's "arrived" and I said "okay my work is done, let's just call it a night," without having gotten there myself. It's not ALL about me, but the point is, all my equipment is in suitable working order so far.
But guess what? Being asked to ejaculate into a plastic cup for the purposes of fertility testing is a whole other ball of wax. They make it as complicated as possible from the outset. You can't just produce at will and rush it down to your nearest BC Biomedical, for one. They only have a limited number of offices that receive sperm specimens, because they need to be on a courier route to deliver the stuff quickly to a central lab for immediate analysis; that courier only comes on certain days, so you need to book an appointment ahead of time to have the goo on hand for them (or in the jar - your standard plastic orange-lid jobby in a flattering little Biohazard bag). There's more, too: they need to have the material more-or-less within fifteen minutes of "production," It needs to be the WHOLE ejaculation, nothing missing, which means you have to basically shoot INTO the jar (I don't imagine they'd be happy if you had to scrape it up off your fingers or such). You can't use lubricant of any kind, including saliva. You have to keep the sample warm while you deliver it, too, by keeping the jar next to your body. Oh, and you MUST ejaculate once in the previous week, but NOT for two days before you produce the official sample, so it's a nice fresh full parcel you're giving them. Try to book an appointment for delivery and every time you call them, you have to listen to the whole litany, until you have it more or less down pat. It's been five times for me, since I've had to call to learn how to make an appointment, then call to make one, then to change it, call to check the time and address, and then call again yesterday to reschedule...
In other words, the whole enterprise is fairly fraught. At first I thought I'd just load some porn onto my phone, go to the local lab, toss one off in their bathroom, and be done with it; but the lab closest to me just doesn't take the stuff. Then I figured I'd book an appointment to deliver to Pitt Meadows, which would mean producing in my usual chair, with lots of visual stimuli. It only got complicated when I started thinking about taking a taxi. If he's late, millions of sperm could die; if he's early, I won't be finished. Either way, it seemed a bit risky. Then I booked for yesterday morning at a lab near my girlfriend's, but guess what? I was not able to produce in time; I could get it up but there was just too much self-consciousness, distraction, and general strangeness - even with her help - to get it OUT during the narrow window we had. Plus it didn't help that I'd had dental surgery the night before and was really, really sore (not down there, but still).
When it was clear we weren't going to make it in time, we blasted off to the lab with the jar in hand with the intention of my giving it another shot in the bathroom, but you know, it's really, really hard to jerk off in a bathroom surrounded by shelves for urine samples and notes about where to dispose of feminine hygiene products, when you've been told you only have five minutes to do it in, since the courier could be here any minute and they still have to do paperwork (tick tick tick). Plus there was nothing to look at, no stimuli (my girl stayed in the waiting room). I tried to close my eyes and fantasize but there was so much pressure that I couldn't even get stiff.
Anyhow, we have had to re-book. Since I need to be able to do this on a day when I'm not working, I have chosen the nearest Saturday to me where there's a spot available: a lab near Lougheed Mall. I think I'm just going to grab a magazine, scope out the area, and go find a bathroom. It would be nice if they made the whole thing a little less complicated! Hopefully this whole narrative doesn't add to the self-consciousness and feeling of pressure...
Maybe we could get one of these? (Shades of A Boy and His Dog, for me).