It is Masturbation Month. . .
I worry sometimes that recording me masturbating is more fun for me than it is for the listeners. See, when I masturbate, I need a story. I need to have some sort of scene in my head along with a rationale for why we are having sex. Sometimes the plot is as simple as hot Chicago’s waitress drags me into the supply closet and other days the plot is something complicated and involes a Blogger convention and a great game of Dirty Scrabble. I just can’t lie in bed and start stroking because my brain starts drifting and thinking about why the electric bill was so low this month.
Except when I record these. With phone in ear and realizing that people across the world are listening in and touching themselves as well, well I don’t need a story. I’m in the freaking story. I’m stroking myself and my moans of climax is driving some poor lady somewhere crazy and she is reaching down between her thighs right as I feel my seed spurting forth.
So again, maybe these kinds of post are more for me than you. But if they are for you, I just want to leave a card or flowers by your phone stand because your listening was fantastic.