ouroborous

Well, thing is, I don't feel like I'm some kind of huge stud or something; I just feel like maybe this is what a "normal, healthy" male libido is like at my age when you're near target weight, working on your physical fitness, and are rarin' to go.
In other words, it's not so much "I'm such a stud now!" as "Why on EARTH didn't I get this surgery in my 20's..."

First real "encounter" since the surgery (lots of fooling around, but yesterday was... the full meal deal). And... guys... wow. GET THIS SURGERY.
Before the surgery, I was a real "one minute wonder" (if I could even get lucky; at 338, it doesn't happen much). I would be panting and wheezing and see spots, and I was lucky to even be able to finish. I was used to the woman not... finishing, either.
Yesterday.
SEVEN. HOURS.
She had more... moments of joy than I could count (maybe 12? 15? 20?), and I had... THREE.
THREE. In one night! Guys, I'm 42. That just doesn't HAPPEN to guys my age.
And it certainly never happened before the sleeve.
Good god, men, if you have ANY problems in that area at all and are pre-sleeve, RUN, don't walk, and get the surgery.
UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE. I thought that stuff only happened in porno movies...
Ok, I'll shut up now. But... wow.
Sore... exhausted... and happy
Edit: uh, it wasn't seven hours continuously, I should mention... 8pm till 3am, but not all, uh, action. Even at my current fitness level, that WOULD kill me. Seven hours of go... rest, chat, laugh... go... rest, chat, laugh... repeat until too sore and exhausted to continue! And NOW I WILL shut up.

I really wanted to reply to this. Yes, sex is a LOT of work for a big guy. Ladies, all due respect, but most of the time, sex is all about US doing the work -- abs and core, legs, arms. If you're out of shape, as a guy, sex can absolutely destroy your stamina, and let's face it -- collapsing like a pile of Jello halfway through just ain't sexy. So we try REALLY hard to please y'all, but when you're that heavy, it just ain't going to happen!
Add to this the fact that fat converts testosterone to estrogen (yes, estrogen. Look up lipid aromatization for proof...) and you see a real "double whammy" for us guys emerging; not only are we expected to be nearly machine-like in our movements, with no reaction to the sheer strain and stress of moving 250, 300, 400 pounds of flesh around (not counting the lady!), but our testosterone can dip so low that we have a hard time keeping an erection (and what THAT means, ladies, is that ANY distraction can make "it" go away -- slowing the rhythm, changing position, even just worrying that "oh god, I'm gonna lose it!" And when you're panting and wheezing and worried about having a heart attack (yes, contrary to urban legend, people can and do regularly have heart attacks or strokes during sex), that's a pretty serious distraction. So, for a heavy guy, sex really ain't much FUN! We want to do it to keep our lady friends happy, and sure, it FEELS good, but it also feels like we're gonna die, it's a race against the clock with whether Mr. Happy will keep playing along, and a lot of times those negatives outweigh (heh) the positives.
Now, switch to skinny sex. My muscles are MORE than capable of hauling my carcass around and doing ALL sorts of interesting positional things. Sure, I sweat and breathe hard in the throes of passion, but my heart and lungs are healthy and I have a ton of stamina, so I'm not worried some artery is going to explode. And best of all, because my testosterone MORE THAN DOUBLED without drugs, just by losing the weight, my libido is crazy -- that one hormone makes ALL the difference between just being caught up in my head and worrying about how I'm going to "perform" and getting utterly, absolutely lost in the moment. And that is so insanely sexy. Apparently for both of us!
So yes, ladies, if you want a better love life, definitely lose weight, but get your guy to lose weight too. You will NOT regret it!

So, atheists and other "nonbelievers" make up, I believe, five percent of the population. And sleevers are, what, 1% of the population? Less?
So agnostic/atheist sleevers like me are literally one in a million! I KNEW my momma was right when she said I was "special!"

So, atheists and other "nonbelievers" make up, I believe, five percent of the population. And sleevers are, what, 1% of the population? Less?
So agnostic/atheist sleevers like me are literally one in a million! I KNEW my momma was right when she said I was "special!"

So last night was a (hopefully successful) experiment. I focused on limiting caffeine during the day and eating properly, plus I got in some decent aerobic exercise (~2 mile fast walk). When I came home from work, I had a very protein-heavy supper, and no food after ~8:30 pm.
Then, at bed time I drugged myself to sleep; although this isn't healthy or sustainable, I had suspected that I might be a little hypoglycemic at night, but not enough to be really dangerous (just judging from the symptoms), and that what was really hurting me was the lost sleep. In fact, all day yesterday I had odd shooting pains that (in retrospect) I recognize as the effects of sleep deprivation.
And the result was the first good night of sleep in a week or so -- I slept straight through from about 10:00pm to 6:00am, without getting up once. I'm going to repeat the process today, going from the theory that as long as I'm doing all the things (eat right, exercise, limit caffeine) that I know are good for me, and as long as none of my symptoms are truly dangerous, it's more important for me to get a good night's sleep than it is to wake up and fret about mild nocturnal hypoglycemia.
It's strange how much like a scientist you have to be, if you want to lead a healthy life -- you have to perform all these little experiments, and monitor the results, then adjust your behavior based upon the outcome!

First real "encounter" since the surgery (lots of fooling around, but yesterday was... the full meal deal). And... guys... wow. GET THIS SURGERY.
Before the surgery, I was a real "one minute wonder" (if I could even get lucky; at 338, it doesn't happen much). I would be panting and wheezing and see spots, and I was lucky to even be able to finish. I was used to the woman not... finishing, either.
Yesterday.
SEVEN. HOURS.
She had more... moments of joy than I could count (maybe 12? 15? 20?), and I had... THREE.
THREE. In one night! Guys, I'm 42. That just doesn't HAPPEN to guys my age.
And it certainly never happened before the sleeve.
Good god, men, if you have ANY problems in that area at all and are pre-sleeve, RUN, don't walk, and get the surgery.
UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE. I thought that stuff only happened in porno movies...
Ok, I'll shut up now. But... wow.
Sore... exhausted... and happy
Edit: uh, it wasn't seven hours continuously, I should mention... 8pm till 3am, but not all, uh, action. Even at my current fitness level, that WOULD kill me. Seven hours of go... rest, chat, laugh... go... rest, chat, laugh... repeat until too sore and exhausted to continue! And NOW I WILL shut up.

First real "encounter" since the surgery (lots of fooling around, but yesterday was... the full meal deal). And... guys... wow. GET THIS SURGERY.
Before the surgery, I was a real "one minute wonder" (if I could even get lucky; at 338, it doesn't happen much). I would be panting and wheezing and see spots, and I was lucky to even be able to finish. I was used to the woman not... finishing, either.
Yesterday.
SEVEN. HOURS.
She had more... moments of joy than I could count (maybe 12? 15? 20?), and I had... THREE.
THREE. In one night! Guys, I'm 42. That just doesn't HAPPEN to guys my age.
And it certainly never happened before the sleeve.
Good god, men, if you have ANY problems in that area at all and are pre-sleeve, RUN, don't walk, and get the surgery.
UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE. I thought that stuff only happened in porno movies...
Ok, I'll shut up now. But... wow.
Sore... exhausted... and happy
Edit: uh, it wasn't seven hours continuously, I should mention... 8pm till 3am, but not all, uh, action. Even at my current fitness level, that WOULD kill me. Seven hours of go... rest, chat, laugh... go... rest, chat, laugh... repeat until too sore and exhausted to continue! And NOW I WILL shut up.

I tell everyone, up front, that I've had weight loss surgery. I don't judge other people's decision to keep it to themselves, but I frankly don't understand it. It's not something to be ashamed of -- why would it be? You made a difficult, frightening, and painful decision to do something that betters your health and appearance and longevity. You've gone to a great deal of trouble, and altered your eating habits *forever* in order to be around longer and be healthier for your loved ones and yourself.
In my book, that is something to be *immensely proud* of, not ashamed of or hide.
Like I said, I'm not judging; everyone has different lives and different needs. But especially in a dating situation, I'm up front about it -- in my online dating profile (yes, I have one of those) I mention that I had weight loss surgery in May of 2010, and it was an enormous success. This gets me off the hook at restaurants, I just tell them "surgery" and smile, and they help me pick out a more VSG-friendly meal and remind me to get a to-go box.
And nobody that I have ever met has EVER made a negative or snarky comment. Nobody has EVER seemed to judge me (I can't tell what they're doing in their head, but their body language and words have been positive). Nobody has ever been anything other than supportive, and congratulatory, and sometimes curious (in fact, heavier people have often taken me aside later and asked me for more details, and confessed that they were considering it for themselves!).
Again, it's your business and your choice. But I think that we need to stop shaming people who make the important decision to get this procedure done -- it's not a failure, it's not a flaw. It's a tremendously courageous and positive step. And I don't think I'd want to date anyone who couldn't be supportive of my choice to nurture and take care of my physical self; I mean, let's face it... the kind of woman I want to be with will love my physical self as much as my mind and heart, and will want it to be healthy. So why should she judge me for taking the best steps I know of to make that physical self healthy and happy.
youknowit: I'm sorry it didn't work out for you, but you seem very connected and articulate, so I'm sure you'll meet someone amazing soon (if you haven't already!)

Just tell him that you had stomach surgery a while back, and you're under doctor's orders to eat very small portion sizes. That's the truth, and it should get him off your back.
You can assure him that you're perfectly healthy on small portions, given that you're probably eating more frequently, and that you're being careful with your Vitamins and Water. And thank him for his concern :sad0:

First real "encounter" since the surgery (lots of fooling around, but yesterday was... the full meal deal). And... guys... wow. GET THIS SURGERY.
Before the surgery, I was a real "one minute wonder" (if I could even get lucky; at 338, it doesn't happen much). I would be panting and wheezing and see spots, and I was lucky to even be able to finish. I was used to the woman not... finishing, either.
Yesterday.
SEVEN. HOURS.
She had more... moments of joy than I could count (maybe 12? 15? 20?), and I had... THREE.
THREE. In one night! Guys, I'm 42. That just doesn't HAPPEN to guys my age.
And it certainly never happened before the sleeve.
Good god, men, if you have ANY problems in that area at all and are pre-sleeve, RUN, don't walk, and get the surgery.
UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE. I thought that stuff only happened in porno movies...
Ok, I'll shut up now. But... wow.
Sore... exhausted... and happy
Edit: uh, it wasn't seven hours continuously, I should mention... 8pm till 3am, but not all, uh, action. Even at my current fitness level, that WOULD kill me. Seven hours of go... rest, chat, laugh... go... rest, chat, laugh... repeat until too sore and exhausted to continue! And NOW I WILL shut up.

First real "encounter" since the surgery (lots of fooling around, but yesterday was... the full meal deal). And... guys... wow. GET THIS SURGERY.
Before the surgery, I was a real "one minute wonder" (if I could even get lucky; at 338, it doesn't happen much). I would be panting and wheezing and see spots, and I was lucky to even be able to finish. I was used to the woman not... finishing, either.
Yesterday.
SEVEN. HOURS.
She had more... moments of joy than I could count (maybe 12? 15? 20?), and I had... THREE.
THREE. In one night! Guys, I'm 42. That just doesn't HAPPEN to guys my age.
And it certainly never happened before the sleeve.
Good god, men, if you have ANY problems in that area at all and are pre-sleeve, RUN, don't walk, and get the surgery.
UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE. I thought that stuff only happened in porno movies...
Ok, I'll shut up now. But... wow.
Sore... exhausted... and happy
Edit: uh, it wasn't seven hours continuously, I should mention... 8pm till 3am, but not all, uh, action. Even at my current fitness level, that WOULD kill me. Seven hours of go... rest, chat, laugh... go... rest, chat, laugh... repeat until too sore and exhausted to continue! And NOW I WILL shut up.

First real "encounter" since the surgery (lots of fooling around, but yesterday was... the full meal deal). And... guys... wow. GET THIS SURGERY.
Before the surgery, I was a real "one minute wonder" (if I could even get lucky; at 338, it doesn't happen much). I would be panting and wheezing and see spots, and I was lucky to even be able to finish. I was used to the woman not... finishing, either.
Yesterday.
SEVEN. HOURS.
She had more... moments of joy than I could count (maybe 12? 15? 20?), and I had... THREE.
THREE. In one night! Guys, I'm 42. That just doesn't HAPPEN to guys my age.
And it certainly never happened before the sleeve.
Good god, men, if you have ANY problems in that area at all and are pre-sleeve, RUN, don't walk, and get the surgery.
UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE. I thought that stuff only happened in porno movies...
Ok, I'll shut up now. But... wow.
Sore... exhausted... and happy
Edit: uh, it wasn't seven hours continuously, I should mention... 8pm till 3am, but not all, uh, action. Even at my current fitness level, that WOULD kill me. Seven hours of go... rest, chat, laugh... go... rest, chat, laugh... repeat until too sore and exhausted to continue! And NOW I WILL shut up.

First real "encounter" since the surgery (lots of fooling around, but yesterday was... the full meal deal). And... guys... wow. GET THIS SURGERY.
Before the surgery, I was a real "one minute wonder" (if I could even get lucky; at 338, it doesn't happen much). I would be panting and wheezing and see spots, and I was lucky to even be able to finish. I was used to the woman not... finishing, either.
Yesterday.
SEVEN. HOURS.
She had more... moments of joy than I could count (maybe 12? 15? 20?), and I had... THREE.
THREE. In one night! Guys, I'm 42. That just doesn't HAPPEN to guys my age.
And it certainly never happened before the sleeve.
Good god, men, if you have ANY problems in that area at all and are pre-sleeve, RUN, don't walk, and get the surgery.
UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE. I thought that stuff only happened in porno movies...
Ok, I'll shut up now. But... wow.
Sore... exhausted... and happy
Edit: uh, it wasn't seven hours continuously, I should mention... 8pm till 3am, but not all, uh, action. Even at my current fitness level, that WOULD kill me. Seven hours of go... rest, chat, laugh... go... rest, chat, laugh... repeat until too sore and exhausted to continue! And NOW I WILL shut up.

First real "encounter" since the surgery (lots of fooling around, but yesterday was... the full meal deal). And... guys... wow. GET THIS SURGERY.
Before the surgery, I was a real "one minute wonder" (if I could even get lucky; at 338, it doesn't happen much). I would be panting and wheezing and see spots, and I was lucky to even be able to finish. I was used to the woman not... finishing, either.
Yesterday.
SEVEN. HOURS.
She had more... moments of joy than I could count (maybe 12? 15? 20?), and I had... THREE.
THREE. In one night! Guys, I'm 42. That just doesn't HAPPEN to guys my age.
And it certainly never happened before the sleeve.
Good god, men, if you have ANY problems in that area at all and are pre-sleeve, RUN, don't walk, and get the surgery.
UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE. I thought that stuff only happened in porno movies...
Ok, I'll shut up now. But... wow.
Sore... exhausted... and happy
Edit: uh, it wasn't seven hours continuously, I should mention... 8pm till 3am, but not all, uh, action. Even at my current fitness level, that WOULD kill me. Seven hours of go... rest, chat, laugh... go... rest, chat, laugh... repeat until too sore and exhausted to continue! And NOW I WILL shut up.

First real "encounter" since the surgery (lots of fooling around, but yesterday was... the full meal deal). And... guys... wow. GET THIS SURGERY.
Before the surgery, I was a real "one minute wonder" (if I could even get lucky; at 338, it doesn't happen much). I would be panting and wheezing and see spots, and I was lucky to even be able to finish. I was used to the woman not... finishing, either.
Yesterday.
SEVEN. HOURS.
She had more... moments of joy than I could count (maybe 12? 15? 20?), and I had... THREE.
THREE. In one night! Guys, I'm 42. That just doesn't HAPPEN to guys my age.
And it certainly never happened before the sleeve.
Good god, men, if you have ANY problems in that area at all and are pre-sleeve, RUN, don't walk, and get the surgery.
UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE. I thought that stuff only happened in porno movies...
Ok, I'll shut up now. But... wow.
Sore... exhausted... and happy
Edit: uh, it wasn't seven hours continuously, I should mention... 8pm till 3am, but not all, uh, action. Even at my current fitness level, that WOULD kill me. Seven hours of go... rest, chat, laugh... go... rest, chat, laugh... repeat until too sore and exhausted to continue! And NOW I WILL shut up.

First real "encounter" since the surgery (lots of fooling around, but yesterday was... the full meal deal). And... guys... wow. GET THIS SURGERY.
Before the surgery, I was a real "one minute wonder" (if I could even get lucky; at 338, it doesn't happen much). I would be panting and wheezing and see spots, and I was lucky to even be able to finish. I was used to the woman not... finishing, either.
Yesterday.
SEVEN. HOURS.
She had more... moments of joy than I could count (maybe 12? 15? 20?), and I had... THREE.
THREE. In one night! Guys, I'm 42. That just doesn't HAPPEN to guys my age.
And it certainly never happened before the sleeve.
Good god, men, if you have ANY problems in that area at all and are pre-sleeve, RUN, don't walk, and get the surgery.
UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE. I thought that stuff only happened in porno movies...
Ok, I'll shut up now. But... wow.
Sore... exhausted... and happy
Edit: uh, it wasn't seven hours continuously, I should mention... 8pm till 3am, but not all, uh, action. Even at my current fitness level, that WOULD kill me. Seven hours of go... rest, chat, laugh... go... rest, chat, laugh... repeat until too sore and exhausted to continue! And NOW I WILL shut up.

Ummm... If "get fit, be creative, make sure you're doing it as much as possible, and have fun" requires a seminar, I weep for the state of masculinity!
Normally I'd make a flity remark about private lessons available for select women (so you can pass the knowledge on to the men in your life, of course -- I only aim to serve others! ) but... This is a PG forum and I'm egotistical-sounding enough, already!

First real "encounter" since the surgery (lots of fooling around, but yesterday was... the full meal deal). And... guys... wow. GET THIS SURGERY.
Before the surgery, I was a real "one minute wonder" (if I could even get lucky; at 338, it doesn't happen much). I would be panting and wheezing and see spots, and I was lucky to even be able to finish. I was used to the woman not... finishing, either.
Yesterday.
SEVEN. HOURS.
She had more... moments of joy than I could count (maybe 12? 15? 20?), and I had... THREE.
THREE. In one night! Guys, I'm 42. That just doesn't HAPPEN to guys my age.
And it certainly never happened before the sleeve.
Good god, men, if you have ANY problems in that area at all and are pre-sleeve, RUN, don't walk, and get the surgery.
UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE. I thought that stuff only happened in porno movies...
Ok, I'll shut up now. But... wow.
Sore... exhausted... and happy
Edit: uh, it wasn't seven hours continuously, I should mention... 8pm till 3am, but not all, uh, action. Even at my current fitness level, that WOULD kill me. Seven hours of go... rest, chat, laugh... go... rest, chat, laugh... repeat until too sore and exhausted to continue! And NOW I WILL shut up.

First real "encounter" since the surgery (lots of fooling around, but yesterday was... the full meal deal). And... guys... wow. GET THIS SURGERY.
Before the surgery, I was a real "one minute wonder" (if I could even get lucky; at 338, it doesn't happen much). I would be panting and wheezing and see spots, and I was lucky to even be able to finish. I was used to the woman not... finishing, either.
Yesterday.
SEVEN. HOURS.
She had more... moments of joy than I could count (maybe 12? 15? 20?), and I had... THREE.
THREE. In one night! Guys, I'm 42. That just doesn't HAPPEN to guys my age.
And it certainly never happened before the sleeve.
Good god, men, if you have ANY problems in that area at all and are pre-sleeve, RUN, don't walk, and get the surgery.
UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE. I thought that stuff only happened in porno movies...
Ok, I'll shut up now. But... wow.
Sore... exhausted... and happy
Edit: uh, it wasn't seven hours continuously, I should mention... 8pm till 3am, but not all, uh, action. Even at my current fitness level, that WOULD kill me. Seven hours of go... rest, chat, laugh... go... rest, chat, laugh... repeat until too sore and exhausted to continue! And NOW I WILL shut up.

First real "encounter" since the surgery (lots of fooling around, but yesterday was... the full meal deal). And... guys... wow. GET THIS SURGERY.
Before the surgery, I was a real "one minute wonder" (if I could even get lucky; at 338, it doesn't happen much). I would be panting and wheezing and see spots, and I was lucky to even be able to finish. I was used to the woman not... finishing, either.
Yesterday.
SEVEN. HOURS.
She had more... moments of joy than I could count (maybe 12? 15? 20?), and I had... THREE.
THREE. In one night! Guys, I'm 42. That just doesn't HAPPEN to guys my age.
And it certainly never happened before the sleeve.
Good god, men, if you have ANY problems in that area at all and are pre-sleeve, RUN, don't walk, and get the surgery.
UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE. I thought that stuff only happened in porno movies...
Ok, I'll shut up now. But... wow.
Sore... exhausted... and happy
Edit: uh, it wasn't seven hours continuously, I should mention... 8pm till 3am, but not all, uh, action. Even at my current fitness level, that WOULD kill me. Seven hours of go... rest, chat, laugh... go... rest, chat, laugh... repeat until too sore and exhausted to continue! And NOW I WILL shut up.

I really wanted to reply to this. Yes, sex is a LOT of work for a big guy. Ladies, all due respect, but most of the time, sex is all about US doing the work -- abs and core, legs, arms. If you're out of shape, as a guy, sex can absolutely destroy your stamina, and let's face it -- collapsing like a pile of Jello halfway through just ain't sexy. So we try REALLY hard to please y'all, but when you're that heavy, it just ain't going to happen!
Add to this the fact that fat converts testosterone to estrogen (yes, estrogen. Look up lipid aromatization for proof...) and you see a real "double whammy" for us guys emerging; not only are we expected to be nearly machine-like in our movements, with no reaction to the sheer strain and stress of moving 250, 300, 400 pounds of flesh around (not counting the lady!), but our testosterone can dip so low that we have a hard time keeping an erection (and what THAT means, ladies, is that ANY distraction can make "it" go away -- slowing the rhythm, changing position, even just worrying that "oh god, I'm gonna lose it!" And when you're panting and wheezing and worried about having a heart attack (yes, contrary to urban legend, people can and do regularly have heart attacks or strokes during sex), that's a pretty serious distraction. So, for a heavy guy, sex really ain't much FUN! We want to do it to keep our lady friends happy, and sure, it FEELS good, but it also feels like we're gonna die, it's a race against the clock with whether Mr. Happy will keep playing along, and a lot of times those negatives outweigh (heh) the positives.
Now, switch to skinny sex. My muscles are MORE than capable of hauling my carcass around and doing ALL sorts of interesting positional things. Sure, I sweat and breathe hard in the throes of passion, but my heart and lungs are healthy and I have a ton of stamina, so I'm not worried some artery is going to explode. And best of all, because my testosterone MORE THAN DOUBLED without drugs, just by losing the weight, my libido is crazy -- that one hormone makes ALL the difference between just being caught up in my head and worrying about how I'm going to "perform" and getting utterly, absolutely lost in the moment. And that is so insanely sexy. Apparently for both of us!
So yes, ladies, if you want a better love life, definitely lose weight, but get your guy to lose weight too. You will NOT regret it!

I really wanted to reply to this. Yes, sex is a LOT of work for a big guy. Ladies, all due respect, but most of the time, sex is all about US doing the work -- abs and core, legs, arms. If you're out of shape, as a guy, sex can absolutely destroy your stamina, and let's face it -- collapsing like a pile of Jello halfway through just ain't sexy. So we try REALLY hard to please y'all, but when you're that heavy, it just ain't going to happen!
Add to this the fact that fat converts testosterone to estrogen (yes, estrogen. Look up lipid aromatization for proof...) and you see a real "double whammy" for us guys emerging; not only are we expected to be nearly machine-like in our movements, with no reaction to the sheer strain and stress of moving 250, 300, 400 pounds of flesh around (not counting the lady!), but our testosterone can dip so low that we have a hard time keeping an erection (and what THAT means, ladies, is that ANY distraction can make "it" go away -- slowing the rhythm, changing position, even just worrying that "oh god, I'm gonna lose it!" And when you're panting and wheezing and worried about having a heart attack (yes, contrary to urban legend, people can and do regularly have heart attacks or strokes during sex), that's a pretty serious distraction. So, for a heavy guy, sex really ain't much FUN! We want to do it to keep our lady friends happy, and sure, it FEELS good, but it also feels like we're gonna die, it's a race against the clock with whether Mr. Happy will keep playing along, and a lot of times those negatives outweigh (heh) the positives.
Now, switch to skinny sex. My muscles are MORE than capable of hauling my carcass around and doing ALL sorts of interesting positional things. Sure, I sweat and breathe hard in the throes of passion, but my heart and lungs are healthy and I have a ton of stamina, so I'm not worried some artery is going to explode. And best of all, because my testosterone MORE THAN DOUBLED without drugs, just by losing the weight, my libido is crazy -- that one hormone makes ALL the difference between just being caught up in my head and worrying about how I'm going to "perform" and getting utterly, absolutely lost in the moment. And that is so insanely sexy. Apparently for both of us!
So yes, ladies, if you want a better love life, definitely lose weight, but get your guy to lose weight too. You will NOT regret it!

I guess I'll be the token male on this thread!
I'm not single, however, but I encouraged my girlfriend to get the surgery once she'd made up her mind (and once I was convinced that it's safe). Not just for the obvious, "noble" reasons -- it's good for her health, she'll live a longer, happier life, etc. But also for one very un-noble, "selfish" reason as well: I wanted a skinnier girlfriend.
Mock me if you'd like, but let's be honest. Men -- especially single men -- are visual creatures. We care, very much, what you look like (even when we protest that it doesn't matter, it matters). Hopefully, if we're good guys, that's not all we care about, but it's pretty important.
So, I can't speak for other men, but I can speak for myself, and I bet I speak for a lot of men. Mostly -- at least in the "first impressions" department -- we care that a woman is healthy, and looks good. This surgery achieves both of those goals. Sure, you may not want to give him every gory detail, but that kinda goes without saying (a new relationship isn't usually the place for detailed talks about former medical procedures). If you need to explain anything (for instance why you eat so little, or why you can't have carbonation), just explain that you had stomach surgery in the past, and it's doctor's orders. Most men really won't care beyond that, as long as you're healthy.
But honestly? I think a guy will just be thrilled to be with a "skinny" girlfriend, to the point where he doesn't really care HOW she got skinny.
In the long run, hopefully, we'll move beyond caring so much about appearances. But the truth is that we NEVER get completely past it; we always care at least a bit what you look like (which is why the sleeve is such a great thing for relationships!). Once we start moving beyond first impressions/lust, we should just be thrilled that the surgery is making YOU happy, and less judgmental about it. In other words, as the immediate visual draw becomes less important, our caring for you should take over, and in that department lap sleeve is a plus, too.
There will likely be a small percentage of exceptions, but honestly I think most will be happier with the results and not care how you got there. The exceptions who will make a fuss about it, aren't worth your time.