Sex in San Diego: Sharing a Silhouetted Sex Life

by on March 16, 2012 · 27 comments

in Popular, San Diego, Sex in San Diego

When asked to write a piece for the Rag’s Sex in San Diego column I jumped at the chance. Then I panicked, wondering what the hell I was going to write since, when it comes to sex, although I’m still very much a sexual being, my sex life has boiled down to me “being” the only one in the room during the act. It’s like I’m in junior high.

April, in 2011, was the last time I had company sexually, after nearly a year of fun in the hay – with a beautiful woman I met a while after my wife died.

This has been some kind of experience because I have always very much enjoyed “doin’ the do.” And so did, Nancy, my sexy soulmate of 34 years, through and through. She was 62 when she left and I was 71.

We had such a rich sex life. Both of us were fit and young in spirit, still eager, up for it (pun somewhat intended) both on planned date nights, a couple of times a week, or spontaneously. Whichever came first.

So many memories, rising like silhouettes in a distant past. Going back to our first time in ’73, in the front seat of her Nash: after tennis in the parking lot of the courts off Kelton Road, sweaty, eager, groping, poking, toking, losing ourselves in the ultimate of intimacies, her and me, with her mounted above me and I, due to our long legs, only able to receive and there was absolutely not a single complaint from me. I could have stayed for an eternity.

I can still feel the explosion, the quivering of thighs, sighs. With the obligatory “Whoooo, Man!” whistle at the end. Then we were at it again. Those were the days, my friend.

Oh, God, the silhouettes: At the top of Sunset Cliffs under a full moon, listening to Al Green sing “Here I am, baby, come and take me, take me by the hand” with more than our hands at play, our bodies giving sway to nature’s precious gift to animal beings; near SDSU in a friend’s pool; on the sand between dog beach and the Hotel Del Coronado; off a trail, in the chaparral, on Cowles Mountain before it became the place for everybody to go, paying lizards and rattle snakes and rosy boas no mind, leaning against a rock that conformed to our bodies as though we had sculpted it with our love making in mind ….

Oh, I miss that woman so. Her loveliness, the fullness of her breasts, the slight curvature of her flat behind that she hated but I thought was so divine because it was mine, the strength of her swimmer’s arms and legs and body, the sturdiness of her bones, the texture in the tones of her moans, the very sensuality that defined her sexuality, the range and depth of the ways she pleased me and allowed me to please her, her commands, “Yes, baby, right there, don’t stop, ohhhhh,” the way she could just give it up, let it go, and then ask for more.

Whoo, doggie, it was never a chore. Never. No “I’ve got a headache” in her makeup. I remember only being too tired just once and went on and did it anyway. I wasn’t going to deny her in any way, her love of massages, bongo beats on her derriere and “liqueurs” ? our pet name for oral delights.

Nancy and Ernie

Ah, what was there not to like? We’d drift to other worlds. Our desires unfurled. She was my girl.

But all that is no more. I now not only don’t have a sex partner, but when that incredible woman left these shores, she left me with indescribable emotional pain. I was left barely standing without my best friend in the world, my most trusted confidante, my shoulder, my shelter from harm, my children’s mother, the editor of my every written word, practically, my mentor in so many arenas ? looking out for animals, appreciating the environment, helping those in need. She was the most loving and giving human being I’ve ever known.

However crippling and stunning and numbing as losing her has been, I never lost my sex drive as it was so alive with her to the very end ? although, when I laid down with someone again, I needed a little help and that surprised me to no end. But the night of the same day she died I could have gone to bed with someone ? anyone, I think ? just to determine if I was alive because I wasn’t sure I, too, hadn’t died.

It wasn’t until eleven months after her passing that I found someone to hang out with and do fun things with and the sex was delightful, needed. But I discovered, after a while, that I had no idea what path I wanted to embark on and I pulled away after nearly a year, withdrawing into myself a bit. I now count her as one of my dearest friends.

Hey, I was with a true soul mate for over thirty years, fully satisfied, never thinking that I would ever be out loose on the dating scene.

“Date nights” have come to mean me and me alone, and I am horny to the bone. But I have no game. Never did. Not bragging, but I didn’t have to.

It always seemed presumptuous to me to say something like, “Hey, bartender, give the woman down at the end of the bar what she’s drinking” or approach a woman with some lame nonsense like, “If God made anybody lovelier than you, He must have kept her for Himself” or, “Baby, you look so fine, you make me want to throw every dollar I own up in the air and all that stays up is mine and all that falls down is yours.” That’s not for me.

Now, I’ve had a few chances for one night stands but I’m way past “Bip, Bop, Bam, thank you, ma’am!” It’s tempting, though; I will tell you no lie. But I’ve been there and done that back when I was a young buck on the go, “going for what I know” as my boys and I used to say thinking we were the hippest thang goin’ on in the whole wide Milky Way. I guess I have morals or something or another today.

Having a special woman in my life, for companionship ? and I’m not just talking about sex ? will probably happen for me and, no, I’m not comparing women, other than what would be reasonable, with Nancy. She wasn’t the only incredible woman in the world.

I know a few women I like and respect and enjoy being around, but I’ve always relied on my instincts in just about everything I do and whatever it is I’m seeking isn’t quite coming through. An was a woman who opened up some places in me that had seemed closed and dormant, letting me know that I can and need to love somebody with all that’s in me like I loved Nancy, that tall drink of water I adored. But this wonderful woman shushed that ever so quickly.

So what can I say other than my sex life consists mainly as shadows in the places where my recollections are stored ? for a while, at least. And with that I’ll make like I’m Bob Hope on stage or on TV, and sing to my Nancy, my love: Thanks for the memory.

Sex in San Diego, a column appearing every Friday here at The OB Rag, explores topics related to sex in America’s Finest City. To encourage openness while still respecting privacy, most authors will use pseudonyms.

{ 27 comments… read them below or add one }

judi Curry March 16, 2012 at 7:07 am

Dear Ernie, It is difficult to read your entire article because of the tears running out of my eyes. I know the emotional trauma that you are going through – I go through it every day. You, in your writings, have brought Nancy back to life for all of us that didn’t know her. People tell me it gets easier as each day passes – in fact, YOU told me that too. But I wonder how many days have to pass before that happens. After reading your article, it is apparent it hasn’t happened for you yet either. Your beautiful remembrance of someone you loved so completely should be read by everyone in any type of relationship. She was so lucky to have you.


Ernie McCray March 16, 2012 at 9:16 am

Yeah, she was (smile).


87marine March 16, 2012 at 8:32 am

A little bit too much information here. Geez, some things are private and should remain that way. You could have told yr story without the vivid details of “Doin’ the do.”


Ernie McCray March 16, 2012 at 11:29 am

I told my story just the way I wanted to tell it. It’s my story; it’s my pain; it’s my sorting out feelings and sounds and sights that have played in my mind and soul for going on three years. You can’t believe how relieved I am to get all that out and in doing so I’ve already gotten feedback from people who’ve told me that I’ve expressed what they’ve been feeling and going through. That was a hope of mine as I wrote. With that being said, I appreciate your sharing.


daniel j smiechowski March 16, 2012 at 3:30 pm

You are totally correct in expressing yourself, Ernie. We live in a sexually dysfunctual society/culture. Sex is good. It spreads a sense of physical, mental and emotional well-being. There exist no so-called dirty old men. Dirty old men die young. Healthy men seek athletics, intellectualism and beautiful women to have sex with, why lie? Any medical doctor will agree with this premise. Why have we become so timid and fearful? Than we die, how contrary to our human condition. We are living an illusion and frustrating our innate humanity. This frustration leads to all sorts of abberant behavior and adds to police blotters. Any fool will tell you we are at our best while intimate. respectfully, stay young, Danny


Ernie McCray March 16, 2012 at 3:42 pm

Thanks. Cheers to intimacy, for the normal acknowledgement of our sexuality.


OB Mercy March 16, 2012 at 5:28 pm

What a prude!


Lauren March 16, 2012 at 12:24 pm


Hey, isn’t sex about doin’ the do. Why are we so afraid of natural expressions of sexuality (religious indoctrination?), but so welcoming of violence in our images?

But, back to beautiful. Such a marvelous meandering through the beauty of your relationship that lives in you forever.


Ernie McCray March 16, 2012 at 3:43 pm

You are beautiful.


Chris Dotson March 16, 2012 at 1:23 pm

Thanks again, Ernie. Your honesty is an example of why I read the rag, hoping to find truth. No game? Never had any? I wonder what Nancy would say about that! (I have a good idea she would disagree). At 38, I had given up the feeling I would find a soul mate, and simply went about my business, alone some times while some times with a beautiful “young” OBcean. When my soul partner did find me, one July day at the Farmers Market, I knew it right away. She denied the connection upon hearing my proclamation, saying “I am not perfect”. My reply, “I hope not! But you’re PERFECT for ME!” This July will be ten years. Really, man. Thanks for the honesty. I know this next is more a self-affirmation but . . .

Cherish what ya’ got!


Ernie McCray March 16, 2012 at 3:46 pm

I shall cherish as you are cherishing your ten years with your soul partner. And I’m feeling great because guess what tonight is? You’re right. Date night (smile).


OB Mercy March 16, 2012 at 5:27 pm

Loved this Ernie! You have every right to express your love for Nancy here. You were SO blessed for having her all those years. That is more than most of us will ever be able to say. When you have been alone as long as I have, you wonder if love will ever find you. One day I give up, the next day I’m filled with hope. But time ticks on……


Ernie McCray March 16, 2012 at 5:39 pm

Time does tick on… And I was, indeed, blessed to have that woman around and our children were blessed to have had her as a mother. We and Nancy’s sister talk about her all the time. She made all our lives shine with a loving energy she never turned off.


Annie March 16, 2012 at 9:12 pm

Hey, Ernie, thanks for sharing. What a wonderful life you’ve had so far, and great memories to carry you through. Makes me wish I’d had the opportunity to meet Nancy, but I’m sure glad to know you.

As always, you have a precious way with words. I read it much too quickly the first time through – it just kind of whisks one away to some other, happy place. Despite you writing about loss and solitude, you brought the joy of Nancy back to life, even for those who never knew her. Thank you for affording us that peek into your world.

I hope you find another love. I should say, rather, I know you will find another love. I truly look forward to whatever you may write about that.


Ernie McCray March 16, 2012 at 9:49 pm

Thanks, Annie: I don’t know what’s out there love wise for me and I don’t know , particularly, what I want either but remembering how it feels to love and be loved I’d like to think I’d recognize it when it happens. Meanwhile I’ll just keep on enjoying breathing and hanging out on a planet that never ceases to amaze.


Anna Daniels March 16, 2012 at 9:42 pm

Ernie my friend. I read your post a couple of times, to let the words sink in. I’m sending you a warm hug. Thank you.


Ernie McCray March 16, 2012 at 9:51 pm

Ahhh, nothing like a warm hug. Gracias.


Elaine March 17, 2012 at 9:17 am

Thank you Ernie, for your deepest mose intimate sharing of the precious relationship you were so fortunate to have with nancy. It reminds me of what I am missing. I hope to some day find what you had. All of my best to you.


Ernie McCray March 17, 2012 at 1:00 pm

My wish is for you and everyone to experience for any amount of time what I enjoyed for 34 years. Love you.


Elaine March 19, 2012 at 10:19 pm

Ugh, those are typos, sorry. I should have read it more carefully before posting.
most, in line one
and Nancy, in line 2


Ernie McCray March 20, 2012 at 10:23 am

Shame on you (smile).


jim grant March 17, 2012 at 10:28 am

I think ernie and judi should go on a date.


judi Curry March 17, 2012 at 5:16 pm

I’ll let you answer that one, Ernie.


Ernie McCray March 17, 2012 at 6:52 pm

Hey, I could pass and give it back to you (smile) but I’ve thought about that very thing, however, if something happens with me it would be with one of the women I mentioned that I “like and respect and enjoy being around.” There’s more to all that than I got into, which would have taken the piece somewhere else altogether – the “whatever it is I’m seeking isn’t quite coming through” part. That’s a chapter in and of itself. I should just shut up but I can’t help but say “You’re beautiful.”


judi Curry March 18, 2012 at 11:40 am



Terrie Leigh Relf March 23, 2012 at 8:44 pm

This was beautiful, Ernie. I wish I’d met Nancy. You two had something special and wonder-filled.



Ernie McCray March 23, 2012 at 9:21 pm

Thanks, Terrie. Special and wonder-filled it was.


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