Rubbing One Out

Are you familiar with the term? It is one of many euphemisms for masturbating or, if you wanna be PC about it, autoeroticism, yeah, you know what I am talking about, don’t you?

This isn’t as much as whether you really do it or even how you do it but as this crossed my mind, I got to thinking about where we go when we do it and how we just seem to know what to do and how to do it and all without really thinking about it.

I know my mind takes off and goes somewhere as I massage myself, an action I’ve done so many times and is so familiar that I’m not even thinking about nor am I really watching what I’m doing because, yeah, I’ve seen it so many times before. Sometimes my mind goes straight to that storehouse of erotic images, some real, some just a figment of my very active imagination; sometimes my mind is focused on one specific thing, oh, like how good it feels to be hard, to feel the length and thickness of my erection right along with the increasing rise in my body temperature… and I marvel at it and at how natural it feels to be manipulating myself in this fashion.

I know at some point my ability to think will fade into the background, that the images, which were once HD-quality, are now mere blurs racing through my head as I slip from conscious thought to primal reaction as that part of my brain that loves this takes over.

I don’t exactly blank out; I’m not exactly unaware or all that oblivious to my surroundings or how I’m feeling. I hear, see, and feel everything just as much as I’m not really doing these things because I am distracted, feeling my… essence collimating into one sharp focus as I work my way into my inevitable release.

The thing that often amazes me is that I know that I’m there but not there; I often feel disembodied, as if I’m on the outside looking in and almost as if I’m really watching someone else as the pressure builds and now I’m trying to decide if I want to prolong this pleasure or do I want to just do it and let myself become swamped in sensations that words are truly unable to convey.

I know, without really having to see it, that my sperm is flowing and I revel in feeling my cock pulsing in my hand as I involuntarily gasp as the feelings of release wash over me – and sometimes with such force that my knees buckle and makes me do my best to stay upright if I’m standing or damned glad that I am sitting or lying down.

There’s that “aah” moment tinged with a bit of regret because it felt so good to this but now the moment is over. Clarity return even as my mind comes back from wherever it went and now, as all of the good sensations are ebbing, it’s all about cleaning up and going back to whatever I was doing before rubbing one out became a damned good idea… and until the next time.

How about you? Where do you go?