The Phase

I’m going through a phase.

I know what you’re thinking. Everybody goes through phases. Fuck, I’ve gone through so many phases in my life that I’m starting to wonder if my life isn’t just one big stinking phase.

I just got out of one, for fuck’s sake. Can the phases not spare me for… say, the rest of the year?

This phase is an annoying one. But also quite liberating. Those of you under stress of some kind might even know it. It’s the incredibly ridiculous “Too Damn Tired to Wank” phase.

This phase reared its ugly head soon after my father got the Alzheimer diagnosis. You know what it’s like. Staying up till late. Going to bed, mentally but not physically horny. Not able to get wet or hard, but still reaching for your choice toy, mentally bigging yourself up.

“It’s going to be alright. You’re going to have a smashing orgasm and fall to a peaceful sleep soon after.”

Like fuck you do.

You start your frigging, and try as many possibilities just to get yourself off. Eventually, your hand will get tired. Buzzy from the vibrations of your toy, limp from the thrusting, tingly from whatever your fingers are up to….

And you give up.

Or even worse, you don’t even start at all. You go to bed, brain overloading with thoughts of the most illicit sex in the world. If ever there is a time to think about shagging a man in a bunny costume, it’s this moment.

That’s where I am right now. Inexplicably tense. My friend told me that he prescribes orgasms to counteract this tensity. I hesitate to tell him that I just can’t be bothered. There are other things more important.

I hope this really is just a niggle. I quite like orgasms, you know. The really good ones, the ones that make you go all wobbly for several minutes, till hours after.

And I really hope I can get the urge back. For now, I hope that a deep tissue massage will do. The tensity has struck my neck. I’ve never wished for a Hitachi more than I have at this very moment.

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