…I had this totally delicious thought in my head about masturbating, encompassing a lot of the feelings and thoughts that go into taking matters into your own hands… and other activities that had to be taken care of erased it from the blackboard of my mind.
I was unhappy, too, because while I was thinking about it, man, it was so very delicious, beginning with the thought that a guy can do this with or without a reason; he can do it ’cause it’s his cock and, hairy palms and ocular impairments aside, he can engage in some autoeroticism just because he can. My thoughts had drifted to being in a place – any place – that’ll give a degree of privacy and, naturally, I was thinking about all the places I’ve ever grabbed myself a bit of nirvana and, sometimes, in locations where it wasn’t so very private.
I thought about what would be going through my mind as I dropped my pants and underwear and, um, since I’ve been doing this for a long time, I thought about the images that would begin to race along the HD screen of my mind, of all the sex I’ve ever had, the people I’ve had it with, the sex I want to have and even the sex that’s in the unseen future. I thought about the changes my body would undergo, from that moment of a bit of dizziness as the blood rushes to my dick to the changes in my heart rate and breathing; I thought about thinking about how I want to get myself off – do I want to do it slowly and tease myself or do I just want to test my hand speed and break some kind of record for getting myself off?
I thought about how I’ll have all these things going through my head and how I could be paying attention to them as my hand works my shaft without having to think about it; I even thought about how many times I’ve done this to and for myself and how it just never really gets old or bothersome. Then I thought about the moment where I kinda just stop thinking, working my shit with what I thought of as a mindless purpose, my eyes locked onto the erection encased by my hand or, sometimes, fixed and staring at nothing at all, seeing without seeing, and while jerking myself off is visually pleasing, it’s all about the feelings taking place before I get to the point of no return.
And I thought that it depends on whether or not I actually want to get to that point; maybe I do, maybe I don’t but that’s never predetermined – it’s one of those ‘decisions’ made on the fly and dependent upon how I’m feeling at that moment and a few other things I can’t put into words. I thought about the ongoing physiological changes – increased breathing, increased heart rate and blood flow, increased body temperature and how it all combines to put me well into that mindless purpose.
I know I’m trying to recreate my original thoughts on this and I gotta tell you that this writing just does not do any justice to my original thoughts; it’s not even close to my thoughts and feelings as I thought about how good it feels to masturbate, that same naughty feeling I discovered the first time I pulled my pud. I thought about those early times when I played with myself and just so I could not only marvel at the process of going from soft to hard but to get that rush of pleasure, realizing that I was giving myself an orgasm without even knowing the word existed – all I knew and cared about was it felt damned good. Of course, my next thought was about jerking myself off so I could see that stuff come out of the end of my dick, my curiosity and heady pleasure combining so that I could really see myself cum… and I got to see it because I shot myself in the eye with that first spurt – now I knew why the old heads said that if you masturbated, you could go blind.
I know that I had a moment of silence for all those folks who either have no use for masturbation or sees it as a futile effort and major waste of one’s time, saying a quick prayer for them because circumstances won’t allow them to experience the most personal thing one can do to one’s self. But, man, the thoughts that were going through my mind! Even as I thought about it, I could feel my body starting to respond, that little nugget of sensation that seems to be able to tell me that, yeah, you should go spank the monkey and just because it sounds like a good idea. Alas, all that hot and juicy (and sinfully detailed) stuff went by the wayside because of more important things that had to be dealt with.