It's Friday night and I'm trying out a new bar.  When you're in your mid-thirties and single, you have to mix up the bar scene so you won't be viewed as pathetic.  This place was fairly crowded, and it was mixed with all ages of girls.  I don't want to brag, but I have a pretty decent body for 36.  I eat right and I work out a lot to stay this way.  So, sure I wear clothes to let the body show a bit.  I won't lie.  There is some satisfaction when the 25 year old girl gives me a couple of looks.  However, due to my workouts, my body is usually in a constant state of soreness.  It's not painful....just sore.  In the mornings, I feel like Nick Nolte in North Dallas Forty for about 45 minutes.  I can bear this brief soreness to stay in shape.   

   Even though the 25 year old girls give me a look, that's not who I'm interested in.  I want a girl who understands why I was sad when J.D. Salinger died, gets my Fletch and Caddyshack references, and likes John Coltrane.  Plus, after a few romps I'm ready to cuddle and watch some Adult Swim.  The 25 year old wants to "try something all bendy and junk".  My eyes had been scanning the joint for awhile when I saw her.  She was playing with her hair and flirting with her lips.  I kept the eye contact going as much as possible.  I wanted her to think I could have anybody in the bar, but she was my prey for the evening.  I knew it was working when she sallied forth and confidently sat down next to me at the bar.  She was tall, beautiful, and confident.    She told me some amusing stories and I laughed so she would grab my arm.  I had to show off the guns, you know.  The more we talked, the more I realized how smart she was.  I really liked that, but I figured she would not be the type to just come back to my place.  We talked for about an hour and I could sense she was thinking of bailing.  I got bold and said, "Let's go somewhere quiet.  My place is just around the corner."  To my shock and awe, she agreed.  

   Fast forward an hour, I found her wrapped up in my arms and we are grinding our hips into each other.  We are kissing passionately; our tongues were dancing the lambada.  She tasted like a big piece of Bubble Yum.  I decide to find out how far this is going to go.  I start to lower her down to the bed and she pulls back.  I think, "Oh great!  She's putting the brakes on."  She alleviated my trepidation by saying, "I'll just be a second.  Then I promise baby...it's business time."  I smiled and said, "OK, take your time.  We got all night."  

   My excitement was quickly replaced with anxiety, when I remembered I had worked out really hard before going out.  I had several drinks at the bar and was probably dehydrated.  On top of that, my shoulder and elbow were really smarting.  I popped some ibuprofen and downed a big glass of water.  Then I stripped down and jumped in bed.  My lady was just opening the bathroom door.  She had a sexy glow and she was wrapped in a towel.  She walked over to the bed and dropped the towel.  I pulled back the covers and she got in bed with me.  We start off slow.  We take our time and get each other good and ready.  We are in the missionary.  It is wonderful and we both are really getting into it.  All of the sudden, I feel my shoulder locking up.  I think, "Oh shit!  I'm going to have to brace myself differently."  She looks like she is ready to shift as well.  I grab her leg and push it up a bit.  This used to be to go deeper, now it's so I can hold on to her ankle and my shoulder doesn't lock.  She bits her lip.  She was really getting into it.  

   She must have been ready to kick it up a notch because she whispered, "Let's try something different."  I nod and I roll with her.  Now she's on top.  This is good for me.  She looks gorgeous riding me.  She begins to throw her head back and closes her eyes.  She slows almost to a stop.  I wonder, "Did it happen?"  She leans into me, resting her breasts on my chest, and says, "Why don't you finish us up, big guy?"  She gently rolls off and I get back on top.  I resume the missionary.  It only takes a second for my elbows to throb.  I pull her legs together and push her knees towards her chest.  It's a nice view and my elbows aren't locked out.  Win, win, right?  Well there was a POP!  I think, "Christ was that me?"  She winces a bit.  I said, "My God what was that?"  She smiles a tad and said, "Just from tennis and skiing, no big."   

   I continue the final assault.  I am nearing my arrival.  She is rubbing her hands on my chest and moaning.  Her eyes are locked with mine and our movements become more synchronized.  My feet begin to arch.  Then my goddamn hammy cramps up into a baseball sized lump.  I exclaim, "CRAMP!  CRAMP!  I'm out!"  I roll off of her and begin clutching my hamstring; trying to get the damn thing stretched out.  

   I hate getting older.