Don’t Crank It

This is a bit… complicated. One thing that I’ve found out about myself is that I am at ease around women. The flip side of that perhaps is that I’m too easily lonely.

I refuse to masturbate except under extreme circumstances.

This policy evolved over time, and I do follow it. So let’s define “extreme circumstances”. First, for whatever reason, I find myself without a regular sex partner. Perhaps I’m traveling, or in the first few painful days following a breakup. But this is the key: if there is any opportunity for sex with a female companion, I have no interest in cranking an orgasm out.

The simplest analogy is that with an old-time boxer preparing for an upcoming fight. The wisdom was that the testosterone was needed to defeat another man, and it shouldn’t be wasted. Yet my ‘upcoming fight’ is sex-related. I’m saving that drive for its real purpose: to find a woman to have sex with. I refuse to reduce the sensitivity of the shaft, and I will not underestimate the power of the sperm coursing through my testicles.

If I masturbate, I’m lazy. I start to associate sex with pictures, or movies. Place it in the realm of fantasy. And sex is no fantasy… it is the realization of life. It’s everywhere, and my masculine sex drive is one of my defining characteristics as a human being.

So I save it. I resist the impulse. I store up that precious sticky warm life and let it just percolate inside my balls. It gets so bad under a dark moon that my nuts begin to ache. I’m walking around trying to look normal and if my sack brushes my leg, there’s a concussion of pain that I keep to myself.

I own that pain. Breathe it out and look around. There are more beautiful women in Southern California than I could ever fuck in 1,000 lifetimes.

I’m saving this life force for them. Saving it to remind myself to look around. Smile. Talk to women in checkout lines. Just waiting for that glint of recognition that she knows what I want, and she’s happy to give it to me.

… And when I get that release, it’s primal. It’s animal. It’s earned and it is intense.

Raymond Burns is an esoteric indie film professional living in Los Angeles. Raymond is a social animal who loves every inch of the female form. He comprehensively appreciates the quiet aftermath of a woman’s orgasm. He hangs a bit to the left.