Waiting

I haven’t touched myself in weeks.  Not sure why, what I’m waiting for.  Trying to hold back, for some reason?  Trying to avoid letting myself go, letting myself feel that rush.  More likely, I’ve not wanted to let go… of control. 

Sex, even the kind by myself, has always been about getting out of my own head.  If I want to cum, I have to let go of all the control I try to exert on a daily basis.  Years of trying to forcibly keep myself, and my world, in check.  Rarely has sex been that all consuming.  And when it has, it’s been amazingly memorable.  More often, I’ve been in a position of trying to please another.  Gaining from that, I suppose, a sense of acceptance and approval. 

In short, the past few weeks have left me feeling exhausted and not particularly sexy.  So what changed?

Short answer, porn.  Not just porn, no.  Porn showing a guy I’ve whacked off to innumerable times in the past.  Why now?  Because he’s been out of the scene for a long time and it caught me by surprise that he’s back.  Yes, I know.  It’s just porn.  But when someone can transport you – because he is that good, or that much of what I’d love to spend an hour with – you get excited to see him back.  At least I do. 

So, what’s different about him?  Passion.  He really, really seems to enjoy what he’s doing – whether he’s topping or, like tonight, bottoming.  Other scenes, with other guys, can seem awkward or forced.  When he starts, it’s like he surrenders entirely to what he’s feeling and immerses himself in the moment.  It’s hot.  Really, really, really hot.  It’s what I want from myself.  It’s what I want for myself. 

Goals.

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