(28f) When I go too long without Sex… Masturbation Confessions. [F]

Due in no small part to the current state of the world and, more specifically, the series of UK wide lockdowns preventing any form of socialising, interaction with handsome strangers, or, crucially, getting within two meters of anyone you don’t already share a toilet seat with, I currently find myself in the torrid and frosty grip of the longest ‘dry spell’ of my life.

Which is to say quite simply; since losing my virginity, this is the single longest stretch of time I have lived through without having sex.

And I am *not* coping well.

Previous such dry spells have always been relatively easy things to remedy. Boyfriends would be a mere stones throw away and rarely requires more than a single consonant uttered in their direction before they’d be over and pants down. Frankly saying any word beginning with ‘F’ that sounded like a question was usually sufficient to provoke a response. Alternatively, if I was single and feeling the familiar pang of lonely loins I’d pop on a HIAATAMT dress (‘Hi, I’m Alice And These Are My Tits’, for the uninitiated) and head for an evening of socialising at a bar, and the situation would, eventually, come to its own happy conclusion.

But, in the current climate, neither of these solutions are viable. I picked an incredibly poor year to find myself single, and all ‘night out’ options are (quite rightly) closed to stop the spread. Both of Covid and, apparently, my legs.

Technically dredging through the fetid cesspit that is Tinder remains an option (I’ve made my feelings towards the pitfalls of ‘instant gratification’ Tinder window shopping known elsewhere, so I’ll not retread old ground) – but, strictly speaking, you have to meet alfresco and remain two meters from each other, rendering potential copulation about as challenging as the game of filling a clown’s head from a distant watergun at a fairground. Approximately as sexy too.

So. Devoid of opportunity I’ve found myself sat at home frequently self gratifying. We’ve all been there. Hell, a lot of us are *still* there so I’m by no means suggesting I’m a special case. But what I will say is that for the first time in my life I feel I have insight into what it must be like to be a teenage boy.

I had thought I had a particularly amorous teen when I first discovered masturbation – I think, deep down, when we discover it we all worry we’re the only one in the world doing it quite as often as we do – but I was assured at the time that I had nothing to worry about, because guys did it at the drop of a hat. And it didn’t even have to be an especially sexy hat.

But now – after the longest sexual absence I’ve ever had – *NOW* I understand. Because right now it takes so little to put me in a state of mind primed for self satisfaction that I decided to keep a diary of it to attempt to shock myself into being less ridiculous and, dare I say it; desperate.

And here, dear reader, I shall share its contents with you. Most of it is somewhat tragic so, for now, I’ll stick to the edited highlights. Behold the insanity that is my seven day masturbation diary:

DAY ONE.

– Woke up late so decided to pretend it was a deliberate lie in. Must have had an arousing dream as I woke in a state of some excitement and, given I’d decided I was in no rush to get up, dealt with it immediately. Nothing like a lazy morning wank to start your day. Handy that fingers don’t need much waking to be ready for action. Already can’t recall what I was thinking about. Can’t have been the dream because I’d already forgotten about it. Shouldn’t have waited until after I’d showered to write this down. Great start to a set of records.

– Considered a session due to sheer boredom mid afternoon. Went for a walk instead. Being bored is a terrible excuse.

– Considered a session to warm myself up upon my return. It’s fucking cold. Better excuse but still decided against it.

– Had planned for a substantial bout of self loving before bed, but ended up reading longer than I’d anticipated. Put on some porn and had a quickie instead. It did the job. Will do better tomorrow.

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DAY TWO

– Idle play in the shower. Was still half asleep so nothing substantial. Unfinished business to be picked up later.

– Couldn’t concentrate so fingered myself at my desk to finish the morning session. Classy.

– Felt the stirrings of lust all evening so awarded myself a delightful 45min session lying on the bed. Even popped the tingly stuff on ol’vibey as a treat. This is how masturbation should be done. May have woken Ashley [Housemate]. Don’t care. Was worth it.

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DAY THREE.

– Actually had work to do so no sneaky morning session, despite waking from a profoundly sexy dream. Not dealing with it was a mistake as I was distracted all day.

– Well fuck. Pretty sure I’ve just crossed a line. Darren [Boyfriend of a friend] got shirtless after a forfeit during Zoom Games and I couldn’t help myself. He’s clearly done nothing but toned all fucking lockdown. How dare he. And then get it out. What did he expect me to do? Thank fuck nobody saw.

[To clarify as this was clearly written under some duress; I’d started fingering myself DURING a zoom quiz with friends. It was slow and subtle and definitely not noticed – If it had been make no mistake that my dear friend would without question have called me out on it!]

– FURIOUSLY masturbated as soon as the Zoom call was over, head full of Darren.

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DAY FOUR.

– Woke up with Darren still on the mind. Dealt with it immediately. Twice. Better to get these things out of my system quickly. I’ll lose interest quickly.

– FUCK OFF OUT OF MY HEAD SEXY DARREN AND YOUR STUPID ABS.

– Wrote up a new reddit post mostly to distract myself. Had a lovely play reminiscing about Jamie. Must look him up and see what he’s doing now.

– STOP THINKING ABOUT DARREN YOU PERVERT.

DAY FIVE.

– Woke frustrated. Had an angry wank involving both Darren and Jamie. For what it’s worth, Jamie won.

– Still frustrated. Spent some time on Insta. Darren wasn’t even remotely attractive until this last year. What the fuck has Covid done to him?

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DAY SIX.

– Guy (My pseudonym for my housemate’s boyfriend) was over last night. Overheard some squeaky mattress springs. Lucky fuckers. Angry shower wank it is!

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DAY SEVEN.

– Fuck me this makes for depressing reading. Might have to stop!

– Played twice. Don’t ask.

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And there we have it. Perhaps the singularly most depressing series of escapades I suspect have ever been posted. Enjoy it while you can as very probably I’ll soon come around and realise that this is likely the very definition of ‘oversharing’. But in the meantime, it’s probably time for a play…

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/lg9nsm/28f_when_i_go_too_long_without_sex_masturbation