I don’t know how these things happen, or I do, and it is not surprising. This penis of mine has led to many bad decisions in the past. I had a big to-do list of things to do on this day off from work, some of which I have done, none of them terribly taxing, and none of them the important things that were on my to-do list. And yes, I should probably get going on those things if I am to accomplish them or even to start them today, it already four something in the afternoon, hours of this day, hours of productivity lost to masturbating. A frequent storyline on this show.
So it started off with me watching this Francois Sagat clips on his website, following a link on Fleshbot that mentioned him today, watching his rather fascinating video pieces on his personal site. Really check them out if you are looking for some sexy, mildly intelligent videos to watch. Watching them has endeared this sexy person with the ridiculous skull tattoo even more to me. And I was just trying to find more videos of him, more scenes of him engaging in sex with people on various sites, itsallgay.com, xtube.com, etc. I eventually gave up, not finding things of good quality or things that particularly turned me on. I started watching videos of guys pissing in public, generally all bad videos of a penis (rarely a body, even rarer to see a face) pissing in some public bathroom. Occasionally, I would find something that for whatever reasons turned me on, some guy pissing on the street at a gay parade or something. But the amount of pages I had to scan through to find even one video that made me hard, that was something I wanted to jerk off to, was more and more killing my desire, my getting off became more and more protracted, and maybe that is what I wanted, maybe I didn’t want to work on these things I had assigned myself to do today and so instead set for myself these difficult parameters to jerk off to, to force myself into searching for hours through short videos, trying to find something to satisfy my sexual hunger.
On the top of one of these search pages, a banner ad, an insanely sexy banner ad. A bunch of naked guys on a soccer field with socks over their cocks and women before them punishing them. A photo of a really sexy couple naked on some South Florida beach, high rise condos in the background, a bright blue sky. This beach photo enchanted me. I wanted to see more of this photo, other images like it, a video even that it was a still from. I clicked on the banner ad and was taken to Bang Bros. There, I searched the term “beach” and found this photoset entitled “Fun in the Sun.” I watched a brief preview of the set, enough to titillate me and then was given the option to join and see the whole video for only $1. One dollar for a two-day temporary membership. I shouldn’t, I told myself. Don’t do it. Write these things you were supposed to write and channel your sexual frustration into that. This is not what you need to be spending your money on. And of course, I went ahead and entered my credit card information and signed up for this cheap temporary membership. I was quite excited, was going to finally get off watching this video, logged in, and went back to this set.
Now I was told that I could only see the first 25% of the video, not even the sexy beach part, that I would have to upgrade to a full membership to see it, that trial members were only teased with all these things that were roped off for full members. And I groaned in frustration, my desire to see this couple on the beach becoming a bit overwhelming now at this point and me really wanting to see this video, not wanting to go back to scrounging through xtube again when I wanted to see was clearly right here. And so yes, maybe I did click on that button allowing me to upgrade to a full membership for only $39. And yes, the video was insanely hot to me. I did get a really hard boner and did jerk off, for the second time today (a bit unnecessary really and further proof that this was perhaps some subconscious way of me creating distractions, reasons to not be productive).
I felt terribly guilty afterwards, could not believe that in some fog of horniness I spent so much money on such a temporary pleasure. Or I can believe it, but wish it weren’t so, wish I weren’t so prone to doing such things.
Classical music is playing and now I am going to conquer this thing on my list, still thinking about sex and masturbation, and am going to try to write this thing about “Private Resort” that I have been meaning to write for a couple of weeks now. The resume will have to wait. And then there will be my stomach calling me, telling me to eat, my plans to eat with people calling me away from this thing – bodily desires confused with needs, whichever they are, needs or desires, the body and its calls winning.