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THE RITUAL OF CLANDESTINE MASTURBATION

THE RITUAL OF CLANDESTINE MASTURBATION

I need to masturbate once a day. It is a ritual that I have nurtured since boyhood. I have to be alone and it has to be clandestine. American President John F. Kennedy once confessed that unless he had sex every day he would get a headache. Unless I masturbate at least once a day, I don’t get headaches, but I do feel out of sorts, unfulfilled. In this aspect the advent of computers and the internet has been a boon. It has allowed and enabled clandestine masturbators to become professional and polished at the art – and I must confess, I am a star.

Why? Well, that is the question. I am also a happily married man with a very regular sex life and enjoy having sex with my wife and with any other woman who cares to make her body available. So, why masturbate? Well, a partnership of sex means having to give and take. It involves self-pleasure but it also involves having responsibilities towards the other party or parties involved. You have to pleasure them too and sometimes in providing pleasure you may have to sacrifice your own.

Sexual dimensions are also not important in masturbation. So whether you have a massive or a small cock, whether it’s fat and stubby, or thin and spindly, doesn’t matter. It’s the same for women. Their physical configurations do not matter when they pleasure themselves. They don’t have to worry whether they have adequately large tits, or whether their ass and buttocks are shapely enough. They only have themselves to answer to.

In masturbation, you have yourself to yourself. You are the centre of attraction, the sole benefactor. The art and skill you use is dedicated to yourself and the final result is to your own benefit. There are of course good and bad days. On bad days you let yourself down, and although there may be feelings of regret, there are no feelings of recriminations, no fears to haunt you that you have put up a “bad show”. You are the victim of your own shortcomings, so the problem remains in-house. On the good days, ecstasy and satisfaction is the limit – dedicated 100% to yourself.

Boyhood masturbation is an outlet, but it’s largely unskilled, hurried and fumbling. Your hormones are so rampantly hot you simply want to get on with it. You imagine or fantasise a situation (either a school teacher, or the girl next door, or the girl you saw at the bus stop), get a hard cock, a few quick flicks and caresses and the cum flows readily. Yet, because you are young and inexperienced, the after-feeling is one of emptiness, sometimes even regret.

Maturity helps you to make your act more professional. The clandestine aspect makes it secret and forbidden, your very own thing that nobody else knows about. There is also the element of risqué and danger in getting caught in the act and that puts an edge on the action.

I describe it as an art because that is what it is. It involves the combination and the coordination of a number of factors. You have to engineer or manoeuvre the opportunity. You have to create the right atmosphere by having the urge and the motivation – and above all, you have to maximise your powers of concentration so as to combine the mental with the physical for the ultimate ecstatic result. To obtain the perfect product you have to skilfully combine all of these factors.

This is how I have perfected my art.

I have my own little study, or home office if you want to call it that. I have a computer and a good internet facility. My normal job entails doing loads of internet researches and loads of writing, so it is no surprise to anybody in the household that I spend hours on end doing my researches and my writing.

I have always been an early riser, so again, it is no surprise that I get up very early in the morning, every day of the week and in the quiet hush of the rest of the household (all of whom are fast asleep), I can indulge my fantasy world. After the welcome early morning cup of tea and a cigarette, I close my office door and settle down in front of my computer – an invaluable tool.

I have an enormous collection of pornographic films, some stored on my hard disk, the majority on cd’s and dvd’s of which I have an extensive and catalogued library. Normally, I select my masturbation subject the night before. It may be a gang bang film of a team of guys fucking one woman, it may be a bdsm film, or a group of lesbians, or it may be a male or a female masturbator. Whatever, the choice, it forms the centre of my masturbation theme.

However, and this is where the skill is, I also combine my visual viewing with mental fantasy by also concentrating on a real life subject. It may be one of the office girls, or a girl at the supermarket check-out point, or a neighbour, or a friend’s wife, and I allow my imagination and fantasy to roam. My concentration focuses on watching the vivid depictions on the screen together with the vivid fantasies of my imagination.

This skill is then projected into the physical aspect. Depending on my mood, I either strip down naked, or be partially naked, always ensuring that my cock has free and unencumbered movement. Early on I discovered the immense pleasure of cock rings and have a selection, the favourite being the rubber ring that encircles the scrotum, tightens the ball sac and also fits over the base of the cock to keep it rigid and makes it more sensitive to touch.

I also have a selection of lotions that I use according to mood. There are some days when I want no lotion at all but just want to feel the meaty hardness of my erect cock. On other occasions I use a variety of hand creams, gels, petroleum jelly or even my own spittle. These make the cock smooth, shiny and keeps the foreskin free-flowing (I have a cut cock, about six inches in length, but thick in diameter).

I have also developed the dexterity of both my hands. I am right handed and normally work my cock using the right hand, cupping four fingers around the stem and using the thumb to massage the glans under my cock head. I also use my left hand to apply pressure to the scrotum, thus getting a tighter erection. The left hand is also handy for inverted stroking, cupping the hand at the front of my cock and working the foreskin from base to cock head.

That is why I rightly state that masturbation is an art and a skill. It combines all these factors in the pursuit of self-pleasure, and that is what I do every morning, so much that it has now become a ritual, a part of my life that I cannot do without.

So, sitting at my computer I coordinate all these aspects to gain a pleasurable start to the morning.

The duration of the wank is probably the hardest factor to deal with. This is dependant on the mood, the subject content and images of the porno film and the stimulation of the fantasy. The real art here is prolongation, the longer the act, the greater the pleasure. There is a great deal of skill needed in handling a cock and pacing the wanking movements, taking the cock right to the edge and then relaxing and pulling back, working it again and delaying the final flourish.

There are of course some disappointments when the whole setting is so hot that ejaculation is premature and loses that final measure of ecstasy. The greater the skill and the greater the maturity, the better you can obtain prolongation of the act. The result is the optimum concentration of cum ejection and the better the grade and value of the pleasure.

Even the clandestine aspect has a skill to it. I have never been caught out yet and I have belief that I never will be because I keep one step ahead. I get up early and nobody has the stamina to match that earliness. That is the simple basis of it all!

The endPHOENIX46

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