As Woody Allen famously said in Annie Hall…’Don’t knock masturbation, it’s sex with someone I love’
It’s funny, I have a clearer memory of my initial foray into the pounding of pud, than the first time I got laid. I remember it as if it was yesterday actually… I was 14 years old, in the hall bathroom of my parent’s house. My masturbatory material was a dusty old Penthouse Forum I’d stolen from one of my friends.
After perusing it a bit, I eventually landed on the lucky image - a simple blown up photo of a spread open vagina in black and white newsprint.
For weeks prior, my best pal had urged me to try slapping my salami, as it would ‘release all my sexual tension’. For some reason I resisted the idea, as it just felt awkward. Still, he kept after me to try it, so after a couple of failed attempts, I resolved to lock myself up in the john until I achieved orgasm. That excruciating feeling of momentous build up to a satisfying yet ultimately empty release, and all the sticky aftermath really affected me deeply. I could get all quasi philosophical and start prattling on about how since then I’ve seen that first whack-off session as a metaphor for my life – the expectation, build up, emptiness, and mess – but that would just be another type of masturbation, that of the verbal kind.
Anyway, since then I’ve been a regular practitioner.
I’m not all elaborate about it though. I mean, some people really get into it, they’ve got ‘goodie drawers’ filled with lube, candles, anal beads. Etc… I’m a ‘get in and get out’ stealth mission man myself. In general, I think women tend to go for the ‘production’ more than men, searching for the perfect vibrator, enjoying the warm bubble bath as prelude, reading a harlequin romance to get in the mood. That’s why I find it funny when they get all bent out of shape over the masturbatory habits of their partners. I don’t know how many times I’ve been given a hard time by my exes about having a porn stash, or for even jerking off at all.
‘Why do you need to jerk-off if you have me?’
Jesus, I don’t know how many times I’ve heard that question…
The answer is really quite simple. Sometimes you just want a snack. I mean, if you’re not THAT hungry, you’re not gonna go for the full course meal are you? If you’re just a tad peckish, you’re gonna reach for the bologna in the fridge, and take out a slice.
Now, sometimes that can get complicated… For instance, if you get home from work, and you’re hungry, and you have that ‘slice of bologna’, but then your girlfriend calls up and says she’s coming over, and she’s expecting you to ‘take her out to dinner’ so to speak. Well, now your appetite’s ruined, which just throws a monkey wrench into the works. I know that some of you might say…
‘What are you some wimp? You can’t get excited for the 3 course meal, just because you’ve had a slice of bologna?’
Hey, sometimes you just can’t…
The thing is, I feel since I’ve never been judgmental as far as anyone else’s diddly habits are concerned, why should I be so scrutinized? It’s not like I’m some addict, scouring porn-sites every spare second. In fact I think my frequency is pretty average, maybe even less than average.
‘Ewww… Baby Got back??? Ewwww…. Asian cock sluts… SO you just want Asians and black girls!!!... Why are you even with me???!!!’
You see the kinds of ridiculous conversations stem from the simple act of pulling your pole? For me – and I feel most men – masturbation is part base urge and part habit. It’s a mechanical, unemotional activity. Would you criticize someone for taking a dump? Would you scrutinize what type of toilet paper they use to wipe their ass? It’s all analogous as far as I’m concerned.
I think people just need static to occupy their minds, they need the sacrificial lamb, the boogie man, things to feel ashamed about. They need to exert control…unfortunately control is an illusion, so just pull down your pants and have at it…It’s really ok.
The incomparable Sophia Loren... she's in her 70s now, and I'd still do her!!
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