Here's my slightly edited Usenet post about the experience:
Okay, I'm crazy. I finally did it. This afternoon, about 4 pm. It's obvious that I'm hitting the middle aged crazy mark.
The wife and I drove up to a place in West Hartford that had been recommended on several online groups and by word-of-mouth. I had 3 to pick from, but frankly, driving by one of them really put me off because the location was kind of icky. I'm sure it adds to the atmosphere, but I crossed it off the list. I flipped a coin between the other two.
The woman at the desk took down some info, including needing to see my driver's license to make sure that I'm old enough and don't need my mom's permission. (1) We went to a clean and professional looking room upstairs, where I immediately had to ask for the men's room. Five minutes later I was okay. Funny, I wasn't nervous until then.
We went over some of the choices, and I opted for a 10 gauge, 5/8" (16mm) stainless steel barbell. She said it was a pretty typical size and shape for a frenum piercing.
My wife was very interested and supportive, but not enough to opt for her own. Maybe next year. ;-)
For the technically minded, it was kind of interesting. She used a surgical clamp to hold the frenum (actually, about a 1/4" lower) skin, and spent a minute making marks to make sure that it ended up straight; that is, perpendicular to the axis. Despite the almost 100ยบ heat outside, I had shrunken up as if I had just taken a dip in the Arctic Ocean. Geez, it's only a little piercing, nothing to get nervous about. Right?
So as I'm trying to regain my nerve, my wife pipes up to ask when I could get a PA or a few more to make a frenum ladder. As they start chatting, I interrupt to mention that maybe it would be a good idea to just let me get through *this* one first. Geez.
I vacillated between watching and closing my eyes, but it was hard to get a good view because I was leaning back against a medical bench. After I was cleaned and prepped, she took a needle that was shaped like a large, thick hypodermic (without the syringe part) and held it in position.
"Okay, take a deep breath, and let it out."
Inhale. Hold. Exha... "Ouch!"
"Okay, we're all done. That wasn't so bad, was it?"
I pried my fingers from around my wife's hand, and took another breath. It did sting, but it was less than a second. I nodded that I was okay, and said something to the effect that "I'm forty eight years old and I just pierced my cock. What the hell was I thinking?"
She gave me some instructions on aftercare, which I was pleased to see was pretty consistent with the stuff I'd read online and in some of the other groups. I spent the rest of the evening trying to keep things comfortable. It was probably four or five hours before I got the nerve to pee, and happily, everything looks fine. I've got my sea salt and other cleaning supplies, and except for some general soreness, I seem to be fine.
I was gonna take a before and after pic for my interested friends, but I figure that some are already feeling faint just reading this through there fingers.
Next up: maybe I need a tattoo!
(1) Remembering my mom's reaction when I pierced my ear back in 1979, I'm pretty sure that she'd refuse to give permission for getting a stud through any other part of my body. Interestingly, back then I was on the wild edge because I had an earring. Now I'm way behind the curve... although I'm pretty sure that none of my over-40 friends have one, and most of my under-30 friends don't either. I'm also pretty sure that most of my friends, no matter what age, would freak to hear this; I'm kind of conservative appearing and acting nowadays.
Okay, I guess I'm gonna actually have to take some pics before I can even discuss posting them.
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