hungry hunter slinks home empty-handed again

My prey is one elusive sonafabitch, I can tell you that. But truth be told, I have little real idea what she looks, smells, feels like. I'm now a solid seven months post-op, six since I've been able to have sex, yet the reclusive orgasm continues to escape my grasp. I've caught glimpses of her fleeting form in the tangled jungle of intercourse a couple times. Tinglies of tantalizing sensation taunt me like dancing stars at the corners of a stunned boxer's vision…