Bone Appetit
In my life I have done a lot of masturbating. I mean, a lot of masturbating. For one, I review gay paysites and sometimes I have to mix business with pleasure. For another, I try not to put out on the first date, so I tend to go home with some epic blue balls because in my head, “not putting out” means “as long as neither of us cum, I didn’t put out”. It’s not that I’m a tease, it’s just that…well, consider it like a movie trailer. You get a hint of what’s to come, so to speak, and then you can decide if you want to see more or if they gave away all the good parts in the preview.
I forgot what I was talking about.
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Oh! Masturbation, right. The thing I love about masturbation is how many different amazing ways there are to get yourself off and I realized, it’s kind of like food. Not, like, using food while you masturbate (though, have you ever masturbated with a warm plantain? …um, not that I have, I was just wondering), but that masturbating and food actually have a lot more in common that one might think.
Masturbating tends to energize me. A lot of people masturbate before they go to bed because it helps them sleep, but sometimes if my morning shower isn’t waking me up, I’ll do a little quickie rubout before I start soaping up. And then it’s like, “Whoa, wide awake!” It’s like grabbing an energy bar as you rush out the door, something to eat in the car to get you ready for the day.
And then sometimes at the end of the day, I come home and I just want to relax and have a delicious home cooked meal that takes hours to make. You know what I mean? Like, you spend two hours on this meal and when you finally take that first bite it’s just so…delicious. There aren’t really any words to describe it. And that’s the best kind of masturbating, the kind where you just kick back and for an hour or so it’s just you can your cock (or your vag, whatever) and maybe some porn and it’s so long and luxurious and by the time you cum, your toes are curled, your back is arched and it’s easily the most amazing feeling in the world.
And then, y’know, there are the masturbatory sessions that you do just to do, and that’s like absent-mindedly making a sandwich or having a bowl of cereal for a snack. Nothing special, it’s just there. Something to do. The sessions where you’re at work and you sneak off to the bathroom (you know who you are) is totally that sinful moment where you pull out the chocolate you’re not supposed to have and cheat on your diet.
The perfect masturbatory dessert? The blue balls I was talking about earlier. You’re on a date, it’s amazing, everything is so fulfilling and satisfying. There’s a great makeout session, some more talking, some more making out, maybe some over-the-sweater action (or guys, in our case, some basket-groping). And then both of you are like, “it’s late, gotta get up for work, can’t put out on the first date” but you know. You know that there’s going to be a second time. So you go home and jack off, thinking about how amazing the date was and that orgasm, that petit mort, is the perfect end to a perfect little date.
Well, now I’m hungry and horny. Where’s that plantain?
-Stephen
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