Ok, this is the third of fourth time I’ve tried to tell you what it feels like to cum. Once I even started with clothes on in hopes that I would finish. 45 minutes later I was naked, ogling naked girls and reveling in the myriad venues of chronic masturbation on Google + and wondering not if, but what, I should stick up my ass. First cums the urge: not necessarily to cum, but to play, to engage in an ecstatic act of pleasure that serves no purpose beyond that wonderful pleasure itself. After all, procreation doesn’t require you to stroke your dick alone in your condo, surfing porn, and moaning out loud to your naked horny reflection in the mirror about what a shameless jerkboy you are and happily panting that you emphatically wish your sister and several other well-acquainted females would walk in and see you in this state — with helium birthday balloons floating above and behind while anchored to long ribbons wrapped around the base of your cock and the crack of you ass — because you have gone too far in pursuit of that wonderful feeling called orgasm to stop now no matter what. No, orgasm is a gift of the abstract mind. It is an act of free will. At first. ha ha. Being naked for the shower is a chore that often — but not too often — goes unnoticed. When .you strip naked to fuck yourself, your body knows. My big dick stands out and pounces up and down and bobs like a happy puppy. There is a tingling sensation around the shaft of my dick, my balls are tight and full and tingling. My ass recognizes with glee that it is exposed. Indeed my whole body, responding to ultimate pleasure synapses firing at will from the brain, tingles with joy. All of the tingling seems to flow in tiny waves from all directions of my body to my dick, pushing toward a release from the head of my dick. It’s as if my whole body works in unison to create the great load of goey white cum. As you have likey guessed by now, the dick stroking is in full swing. And the hand not wrapped around my dick is gently cruising and caressing the rest of my body, lighting up those tingling sensations. I’m riding that edge, which you can hear for yourself on my many wank bank deposits. It’s like riding a horse to exhaustion, pushing a sports car to its limits. For me as a jock, it’s like when I used to run wind sprints till I was exhausted or like now when I pedal my bike as hard as possible for as long as possible and convince myself that I can keep pedaling even still. Indeed, sometimes after a really good jerkoff or sex session I’ve had cramps in my thighs and calves, or worked myself into a sweat. IT’s the same endorphin concept that causes that runner’s ecstacy. Except runner’s ecstacy has no such reward as masturbator ecstacy. Imagine if everybody shot their load at the finish line of a marathon? You want that orgasm dearly, but at the same time the act of producing it has been so pleasurable you don’t want it to end. Again, refer to my wank bank deposits. So you keep going at it again, getting closer and closer. IT’s almost torture but it feels too way good to be defined as such. By this time you are lost in self pleasure. Your whole body has worked for that hot goey load, and the mind often directs you to shoot it in a special tribute to that monumental effort. cum on youself. cum on your face. cum down your throat while staring at the tip of your hard cock and proclaiming your love and devotion to it. cum on the mirror. cum on a girlfriend’s underwear. cum on a girlfriend. add a fresh wet coat to the shameless layers of dried cum stains on the walls around your jackoff-ice. but it’s got to happen. you’ve worked too hard for this moment. It will cum. literally. and when your brain finally tells you it’s ok to push through the envelop and reach the splash down, it is… well, indescribable, but I’ll try anyway. all the pleasure tingling through your naked body rushes over you in a wave that will come crashing and splashing out of your dick. From the hair on your head to the the tips of your toes, from the crack of your ass to your bended elbows, that pleasure you’ve been working so hard on flows in all directions to your dick. It’s that pleasure that releases the cum from your heavy balls to the dick shaft and out the dick head in splattering white blasts. it’s a complete bodily release. the first shot makes you moan uncontrollably in response to the pleasure that has coursed through every fiber in your being to create these ecstatically pleasurable moments. Each successive rope of cum flying from your dickhead takes with it all the efforts your very being has worked so hard and lovingly to produce. The groans and moans and panting necessary to produce this moment are often extreme. Cum is everywhere and usually no place considered acceptable. Cum is everywhere and no place it should be. Did the neighbors hear? Did my roommate? Did my shameless sexual display go unnnoticed? You laugh sheepishly as you catch your breath. Who cares? That was a great jerkoff session! Hope you enjoyed this. I can’t wait to beat off for you.
Are men who constantly fertilize today’s cyber “mates” risking a perpetual hangover when they ejaculate too frequently? Are they firing on fewer than all cylinders as a consequence? Ominously, many heavy Internet porn users report symptoms that suggest the answer is yes. Consider this guy’s comments:
Masturbated 5 times today and all the old depressive feelings came back. I could clearly see that the depression was NOT because I felt bad about relapsing, because I didn’t. It was all about my brain. It got depressed, paranoid and very anxious 30 minutes after my binge. I finally understand it now, not just in the abstract, but as a matter of experience. I recognized the feelings that often made me depressed and socially awkward. My solution was all the time the problem. I never suspected binging had this BIG an impact on my whole life.
The Penis Monologue.
I did not always know I had a penis. I’m not sure if I was told I had a penis. As a little boy, it was referred to as a “pee pee”. Other times, the region was vaguely referred to as my “private parts”. I understood that boys had penises and girls had – well, all I knew was that girls did not have penises. I was never told that girls have vulvas, let alone a vagina, a clitoris, and a urethra of their very own.
I was never told I had testicles, let alone that they were the reason I was male. I was vaguely aware of this sac underneath my little penis. I naively reasoned that this was where urine was stored. I was never told I had a bladder. I otherwise did not give urination much thought.
Once when I was little, my ‘pee pee’ hurt. So I went to my mother. It did not occur to me to even consider asking my dad. In fact, I disliked the idea, when it was suggested to me.
I was never told I was circumcised. I was never aware of my lack of a foreskin. I remember noting the color differential, and the ring of discoloration around my penis.
Occasionally I noted my penis lengthening slightly and becoming stiff. This puzzled me, yet I never thought of it as a bad thing. It never occurred to me that this was anything sexual. I was never told what an erection is.
I remember learning about wet dreams in school. So-called “nocturnal emissions”. Talk about taking a delightful experience as orgasm and turning it into something experienced while unconscious, and described in bland scientific terms, no less. … more at timmytm: The Penis Monologue.