The particularly difficult thing about getting out of the rut of obsessive fantasy thoughts and compulsive sexual activity (like masturbation) is that feeling bad about it tends to fuel the whole thing. Masturbation, as pleasurable as it is, is a misuse of the body—or at least a less than optimum use. When you feel like crap, you accept that you should be treated like crap. I imagine that a lot of prostitution customers, men who crave the thrill of a professional orgasm, don’t see themselves as girlfriend-worthy at the moment.

So negativity helps speed up the cycle of temptation. But if unwanted thoughts and desires are what lead you into obsessive thoughts and compulsive behaviors, how do you stop them without just yelling “No!” to your inner self all the time. Well, here’s a thought. Make all those condemnations positive. Instead of “Man, that’s a hot chick. Stop it, you jerk! Don’t think about her body!” think, “Man, that’s a hot chick. Yes, but it’s a real person who owns that body and may God bless how she chooses to use it. I choose right now to protect her privacy and respect her in my head.” See what I did there? I focused on things that are true or should be, not on what shouldn’t be. It’s just like a dieter choosing to be passionate about fresh, healthy vegetable dishes and enjoying improved scale readings instead of focusing on the pain of exercising longer or the deprivation of jumbo desserts.

Look, our brains didn’t get wired overnight. A lot of it is driven by tendencies that are permanent. I strongly believe, though, that through practice and positive reinforcement, we can coax our thought patterns to tend toward healthy thoughts and blow off destructive ones. And, let’s face it, obsessive sexual thoughts and fantasies are destructive. To give yourself completely to that cycle of temptation is to gleefully dive into a tailspin.

Be healthy. Think about what you think. If there’s problems there, think about adding thoughts, not subtracting them. If your timing is well chosen, the good thoughts will beat the bad. Brains work that way.

Here’s my curve ball. I hope you find it entertaining and engaging.

Think of the narrator as a highway patrol officer. Here’s the script:

(Through a patrol car loudspeaker) “Step away from the penis.  Place your hands where I can see them.”

“Is that too tough for you, you pantywaist? Why, no! No it’s not. Not if masturbation, pornography, and sexual fantasy are the anchor tied around your neck as you try to swim across the ocean of life. What? You don’t like my metaphor? Well, stick it in your ear, Captain Jack!”

“Now you listen and you listen good. I more that anyone else you know, know that orgasms feel good, but that thrill is small potatoes compared to the command and authority you have over the ladies and gentlemen, boys, girls, and tax attorneys that fill your sexual fantasies. You dehumanize people in dirty pictures and naughty stories because their body parts and sex acts matter to you, while their hearts, minds, and souls do not. Then, because you have no way to set yourself apart from the sex puppets you imagine and control, you yourself become less human in your own mind.”

“So, right now, focus your mind and put pencil to paper. You must list your beliefs about bodies, respect, and sexual relations. Now write down what turns you on and gets you off.  Go ahead. I can’t read what you write. But I do know this. If you masturbate sometimes because you can’t help it then you probably wish these thoughts would lose their fire. If so then the truth about what you really believe is your weapon against them. But the truth is a muscle. By rehearsing it daily, you will exercise the truth. Make it strong–stronger than any phony thought that ever bothered you.”

(To a defiant negative thought blocking out a positive thought) “KNOCK IT OFF!”

“Look pal, I’ve got a patrol to get to. And you’ve got work to do. Now pull up your pants and click on the link below. PEACE OUT!”

Then again, I’m not psycho. Dirty thoughts aren’t, you know, who I am. I don’t want to take my kids to the The Muppets and have to fight off dirty thoughts about the moms and kids around me.

How can anyone really control their thoughts? Actually, that’s what this website is about.

Yet, there you have it. It’s so hard to do both, to be both. There’s an ownership mentality that goes with surfing pictures, “demanding” each new model displayed reveal their ready and willing equipment with nothing protected from my gaze or fantasy. The orgasm at the end of–Dear God, how many hours did I just waste–rewards an overwhelming sensation of conquering bought babes and servant studs. That mindset cannot simply be turned off. I continue to swim in the gutter even when I’ve been relieved, even when I’m not feeling the least bit sexy.

So, the world becomes a puzzle of potential double entendres, profanities, obscenities, and porn stars that I am charged with discovering and fleshing out.

Because pornography and sexual fantasy are necessarily dehumanizing, my gutter thoughts go to all things dehumanizing and destructive. Whether I feel like a horny bastard who’s preparing for his next fix or a scumbag trying to forget what thoughts gave him his last jollies, I tend to think it terms of disparaging all that frustrates and displeases me. I’m more likely to think in terms of damn it, screw it, fuck it, that’s bullshit.

Hey, we all have dark thoughts from time to time. If there were such things as an effective thought police force, we’d all be doing hard time. It’s forgivable, though, you know. But I’m not talking about the occasional slip of a swear word or mulling the wisdom of a particular teenager’s show of cleavage in church. The problem is that you can’t shut this stuff off. If you spend Saturday nights panting at a computer screen, “Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, yes!” it’s tough not to check out bodies at church the next morning and imagine them in poses you’ve recently had in your head for hours.

Unless you don’ t appreciate the idea of a filter on your mouth, it’s frustrating to have to think about what language you are going to use in a social or business situation. Don’t say the F-word. Don’ t say the F-word. Unless, you are truly a creep, it’s mighty saddening to find yourselves around little kids, somebody says something like “future heartbreaker” or “Daisy says Sammy is her boyfriend” and you think “I’ll bet they’ll be playing doctor when nobody’s looking.” And it’s all because you’ve put time and energy into a mindset. You’ve placed high value on a viewpoint that says that everybody’s basically horny all the time, they just might not know it. Privacy, respect, dignity, ethics, morality, personal space. These are the real bad words. They represent things that just get in the way.

Look, I know that cuss words are just words and they aren’t meant to be taken literally most of the time. But you can’t change the standard meaning. “Shit” wouldn’t empower you or vent your frustration as effectively if you weren’t aware that to somebody you just called to mind a steaming pile of human poop, on a plate for someone to smell and take in with their eyes. “Fuck”, as universal as it also seems to be will always invoke the image of rape, the violation of their personal orifice by your body as a weapon, the most dehumanizing action on another person short of serious phsyical damage, dismemberment, or death. Seriously, why are these two filthy, despicable images so important and useful that we needed to condense them to four letters apiece? If you speak these words casually, quit it. It’s sloppy and gets on people’s nerves. If you find them hard to keep out of your daily speech, consider what else you spend time thinking about.

I used to think that the Bible’s admonition to think clean thoughts was a unrealistic call to be a prude, a goody-two-shoes. How can anyone really control their thoughts? Actually, that’s what this website is about. I’m telling you to stop worrying about bad thoughts you have. Practice the good thoughts: things you believe, stuff you want to think when you are having a good time with the family, casual drinks with good-looking people, a business meeting that’s boring you silly. You have values that mean something to you. People disrobing and having sex for your entertainment is not one of them. Tell yourself that when you are “sober” and repeat it often. Then when the time seems right to view gallery after gallery of naked strangers seeking orgasms, you’ll more likely think, “They should get a room and I should get a life.”

Live in peace, my friend.

I couldn’t get out of the comfort zone of my fantasies, my pictures, and my familiar hand.

My new wife had already allowed me to look at certain pictures in books and on the internet. We’d talked about my sexual fantasies and explored many of my curiosities. She had almost acted indifferent to whether I masturbated or when I masturbated. So…my strategy for trying to get the lovemaking right was to either precede sex or interrupt it to go get stimulation from sexy pictures. Odd, isn’t it? I wanted sex so bad in the thousands of times I’d jerked off and when I had a willing partner I couldn’t get out of the comfort zone of my fantasies, my pictures, and my familiar hand.

Of course, my situation is different from many and for many reasons. The typical depiction of masturbation and pornography in a marriage holds that the woman feels like she is competing with images and must not be adequate if the husband masturbates. My wife has pretty much left me alone to do my activities as long as she gets sexual attention too. Even so, at my worst points, I masturbated unannounced with the underlying fear that I could be caught underperforming with her a few hours later as a result.

When we were in the passion stage of our relationship, I had the illusion that everything I’d ever salivated over, everything that had ever given me a charge, could now include her. I describe this in detail elsewhere, but suffice it to say that I felt like pushing the nastiness envelope. Short of intercourse, I wanted to do it all before we got married. I regret that now. My point here, though, is that I wasn’t really looking for the most profound expressions of love in our sexual activities. I wanted to be dressed up in kinkwear, spanked, tied up, urinated on, or sodomized anally because it spoke to my need to savor humiliation and exploitation of vulnerability, even my own. I didn’t want to humiliate my wife or hurt her, but I would have thoroughly enjoyed it if she were willing to play “rape,” or “call girl,” or “teacher has a pickle for you.” Is this all part of advanced lovemaking? Of course not. It’s getting a thrill from depravity. What does a satisfying session look like? You really are scared for a moment that your wife will cut off your privates or force something up your behind while you are bound naked with rope and handcuffs? Your wife says, “You had me convinced that you really could forcibly deflower a girl.” “You seem loving when you powder my butt after you change my dirty diaper.” “You could definitely get paid for servicing  johns.” How do you get back to reality? How do you become happy with the silly old notion, “Hey, I love you and I want to enjoy your body and you enjoy mine. I trust you with all of me. I’d never want to hurt you, humiliate you, disgust you, or make you uncomfortable.”

Everything about sex has a safe fan base somewhere. Everything about sex can be used for humor, including rape, bondage, and pedophilia (think of Michael Jackson and Catholic priest jokes). A recent survey indicated that among the top sexual fantasies that people have are having sex as a threesome and having sex in public. This all goes to the thrill of domination and breaking the boundaries of what sex is designed for (expression of love between committed husband and wife, if you aren’t clear). Two and a Half Men has made impromptu sexual activity between strangers a standard go-to plot element or joke for most every episode. People who do that for real pay a huge cost in the health of their soul and psyche. Real life always carries consequences.

There will always be occasions when I wish I could push my wife to do something freaky. But the truth is that the turn-on that drives that and the thrill I am seeking is separate and apart from my need to be one with her and our need to express our love and commitment to each other.

In case you are wondering, my first in-vagina ejaculation was helped by a couple visits to a counselor, who suggested some naked but sex-free lovey dovey time for a couple of weeks (no masturbation allowed). I guess it took my genitalia understanding that there would be no alternate path to orgasm and my wife’s vagina was it’s new and only friend. That, and I finally relaxed. After the first successful time, the psychological barrier of “this isn’t how it’s supposed to work” came down.

This concludes my 50th page! I hope you find something helpful on this website. If you came here looking for something to get off on, I hope I’ve ruined your appetite…at least a little. You need to know it’s an appetite for destruction. It’s not what you were made for.

Are you tempted to search? Does it seem okay to view bona fide child pornography because far too many people have seen it on public information streams for anyone to get in trouble (for what is daily prosecuted as a serious crime)? PLEASE RESIST THE TEMPTATION.

The bottom line is that you have to decide what is right and wrong universally and what part of “not wrong” is still a bad idea for you. You cannot count on other people’s or a company’s decision about what is legally or morally okay. They don’t dictate your morality and they can be careless. I would like to think that if someone posts illegal media of activity with a child on [INSERT SITE NAME HERE] that it will be caught and the appropriate punishment will befall the guilty provider of that media. But let’s be honest. There is more and more problematic material being transmitted, often by the subjects of the media. AND while we’re being honest, have you ever went searching and found more than you expected? Or is that just what you told yourself? Whether the surprise search results raises legal questions or exacerbates your sexual obsession, it’s a problem. I suppose if you were trying to get an image of wood cutting river animals for your child’s science project and got a screenfull of bare human crotches, I’d absolve you of any guilt, but I imagine you’ve allowed yourself a search for something a little bit titillating and were surprised by something pornographic. If, to any degree, what you found was a logical result of your search, you’ve got a conscience to come to terms with.

Please be careful. Trust me. No one’s going to give you a sex holiday and say, “Just for today all prohibitions are canceled. To that, I say, “Always and forever consequences will hold firm.” Don’t look. You are only missing out on self-disgust and anguish.

Check out our great new Adult Toy Store! Try a new adventure! Put some spice into your relationship! We’ve got costumes to (barely) cover up your honey’s naughty parts. We’ve got whips, gags, restraints, and complete outfits to fully restrain and pretend to torture the one you love. We’ve stocked silicon phallic shapes of all sizes and colors for for effective and convenient penetration and stimulation all around. And all product packaging bears the image of an average, ordinary user turned into a being of sexual perfection through the use of the product inside. Don’t you dare try to play pretend in the bedroom without having a look here.

Oh, and while you’re in the store, we’ve got fantastically tasteless greeting cards and vulgar gag gifts. Hey, nothing expresses greatest wishes for a bride’s forthcoming marriage like a greeting card sporting a naked sailor of offensive proportions making a naughty offer.

I may be wrong, but I don’t think sex between a healthy, loving husband and and a healthy, loving wife can be improved upon with accessories.

Okay, enough of the silliness. Here is the story of how my opinion of adult toy stores and sex toys went from titillation to disgust. It wasn’t long after my wife and I got together that we first checked out an adult toy store. I had been wary of such a thing previously, thinking it was too immoral for the facade I maintained, but with the approval of my beloved, I felt free to indulge. And the lure was huge.

Think of it: sex is supposed to be the greatest experience a young person can aspire too. How much better will it be when toys are involved? Think of it: we’re not just ourselves in the bedroom. We’re in a peek a boo this and a body thong that. We’re spanking and tying down and whipping. We’re playing with super-sized rubber penises and vibrating vaginas. We’re harnessing cocks, plugging butts, and clamping nipples. We’re outfitting the naughty parts with all the accessories. Why, it will be sex the way God only wished he’d designed it to be. Okay, sarcasm ends here.

I may be wrong, but I don’t think sex between a healthy, loving husband and a healthy, loving wife can be improved upon with accessories. I’m sure there’s all sorts of qualifiers to that (not so much if you exclude fetishes), but I’ll stick to my main point here. I proceed with what is simply a description of my experience. Gain from it what you will. Disregard what you know does not apply to you.

I’m going to confess something very personal here to show you that I get the appeal of sex accoutrements. When my wife I and were first engaged, I made it clear that sexual intercourse would wait until the magic day. I didn’t have a good sense of where to draw any other line, though, and my sense of a boundary eroded over the first few months. I got a thrill and still get a thrill over the slow reveal, but there’s a big caveat to that. More later. There was a brief period when I was willing to expose for her all but my penis and scrotum. This was more or less initiated by a dare for me to greet her at my apartment door wearing only a g-string which she would place under my welcome mat while I was still at work. Upon opening the package, I was concerned that the slender thing wouldn’t contain me if I got aroused before I could present myself and welcome her in, so I got a slightly roomier one as a substitute. What proceeded that night was a fashion show. I modeled briefs, jockstraps, cup supporters, shorts,  swimsuits, and anything else I could think of that would cover my package, but make it clear that I had a very exciting and excitable one. Eventually, I did put on the g-string she had purchased for me. Finally, I entered the room sporting an ankle sock pulled tight over the package in question. Rest assured, I was aroused at that point. A week later, I let her touch my testicles. A few days later, I tied a string around my penis and let the tag on the other end dangle out the top of my underwear. The message invited her to see where the tag was tied. Yeah, it was exciting fun. I’m glad we took our time in getting physical, but I’m disappointed I still let the physical infatuation come in before other parts of the relationship had time to fully develop. The commitment was too soft yet, so it made for some rough seas. It also put incredible pressure on my actual performance for the honeymoon, since that was all that was left.

Here’s the deal. The dream of penis peek-a-boo was a one-shot. My wife can’t forever maintain an eager anticipation of the experience of my genitalia. She’s got a memory, for God’s sake. And that’s what that part of our relationship was about, really. Isn’t my dick just amazing? Aren’t you just blown away by the look and feel of my scrotum? Is it not incredible how the testicles are lowered and raised, how my penis can be an infinite variety of lengths, widths, and angles? Yes to all, but for me to focus on my sex parts and making life a thrill for them is the very problem with masturbation, pornography, and sexual fantasy. The satisfaction is temporary. It’s superficial. It’s dehumanizing. It wears thin.

At some point I realized that, like pornography, sex toys are fantasies that can only entice, not satisfy. Some part of me wanted to experiment with every sexual act I’ve ever heard of, every situation that has ever enticed me, every piece of equipment that could be attached to me or used on me. I’ve come to believe that even if my partner were an Oscar-winning porn actress, willing to play any role I could imagine and willing to try and sexual position imaginable, I would find a lot of disappointment. For example, my wife and I tried tying each other to the bed (guess what, that’s limiting!). We tried dildo penetration for both of us. We tried revealing and tear-away lingerie for both of us. What it all comes down to is that in this safe, loving relationship I was trying to pretend that someone was being forced or that something was being done to them. I was trying to pretend that there was more people involved than the two of us. After all, doesn’t porn teach us that maximum satisfaction comes from stimulation at each every sensitive spot by all available staff? Now, I still think that sexy lingerie is cool. Frankly I’d love my wife to surprise me by occasionally wearing something novel or occasionally presenting me with something novel to try on, but it’s an expensive novelty. For example, consider a leather outfit that covers your penis and scrotum with a removable leather codpiece and fully exposes your buttocks may be very exciting for both of you, but what makes it exciting is the way it makes me vulnerable. If I were modeling it in a fashion show, for example, I would be revealing a private area and making my privates unnervingly accessible. That exposure, that exhibitionism, that vulnerability is what makes the outfit a thrill. If my wife is in a see-through teddy, the idea that it’s romantic is balderdash. What makes it electric for me is that my wife’s nipples are visible. I can see her vaginal lips. For that moment, I want her to be a hooker and me the virgin high school athlete in a jockstrap pressed against a bench, egged on by his buddies peeking over the lockers. If we aren’t both into the fantasy, it’s a once-sided thrill. Hey, even if we both like it, there’s not much to do with costumes in place. The real loving is done flesh on flesh, costumes out of the way. And, of course, if I’m still fantasizing about an intimidated, naive teenager being deflowered by a commercial sex worker, the love in the room is largely flowing from my wife’s willingness to put up with the distracted pervert using her for an orgasm.

The sex product industry is strong and won’t stop. They’ll continue to make products that promise to turbocharge God’s design or substitute for what isn’t there. Sex robots are being perfected. Sex video games already let you do things that will get you arrested in real life. What can the future hold? Nothing good, probably. Anyone who thinks that a virtual experience of sexual conquest that includes mechanically driven orgasms has greatly discounted the value of their soul and of their humanity. Sex toys, like pornography, focus on stuff. They turn bodies into objects and convince you that they need attachments and accessories and decoration. So much for husband and wife pleasing each other.

To each his own, I’m sure, but really, if you have driven past the adult toy store and have  found yourself craving a Borat swimsuit or a leather harness that titillates with a partial view of your genitalia, why not first try nibbling your sex partner’s ear when everyone else in the room is looking the other way? Why not set out to understand what pleases her, something would be exciting and very romantic. No doubt you’ll be disappointed that what would thrill her now sounds nothing like a nude male stripper revue, but true satisfaction will come not from how you package your package or the strength and timing of your erections, but from the sincerity and generosity of your desire for your partner’s heart.

Take care of yourself. Take care of your mate.

“It’s a common fear: You have an erection and it’s clearly caused by something that should not be stimulating to you.”

Well, of course, things aren’t that simple. You know that. You’ve no doubt awakened with a boner (“morning wood”) and your only real desire at that moment is to urinate. You might try to focus your foggy mind on the night behind you and try to remember a sex dream of some sort, but you won’t necessarily identify a fantasy lover who got you hot and bothered in your sleep. Generally, morning wood is the hardest boner you have (takes forever to go down) and seems the least justified (thoughts that usually seem sexy are pretty lame right then).

It’s a common fear: You have an erection and it’s clearly caused by something that should not be stimulating to you. Assuming you picture yourself an attractive heterosexual guy who will snag a beautiful bride in the coming years, it’s scary to think that something you consider perverted aroused you, particularly another guy or a younger child.

Do you know what other stuff  can make a guy hard? Manipulation and exploitation. What do I mean by that? Well, it’s exciting to see someone be embarrassed by nudity—their own or yours, or otherwise humiliated in a way that’s somehow related to sex. It’s a big thrill to watch a little kid’s reaction to learning something about sex or say a dirty word for the first time. It’s a kick to know that a friend is airing their junk in front of you in your bedroom to change out of wet swim trunks only because you’ve just told them that your sister will be forever in the bathroom. Maybe your aim isn’t to embarrass them and certainly the fact that your penis is starting to enlarge is NOT what you wanted, but it seems like good friends should trust each other enough to undress in front of each other.

Where does this stuff come from? My guess is that your earliest experiences of being naked were accompanied by assurances. I think of the little kid changing into dry clothes in the swimming pool changing room. Dad is right there, helping, holding a towel, assuring the little guy that everything’s normal and there’s no reason to be embarrassed. Then, perhaps that little guy finds himself changing with a few other guys or grownups and there’s a sense of camaraderie. I certainly found that at a summer camp. We had a pleasant time in a group shower—meaning, we said funny and cool things and made casual reference to being naked. Up to that point in my life, I presumed that people did not want me to see them naked and if people saw me naked they would point, make fun, and humiliate me because my appendages and crevice are weird, nasty, and embarrassing simply to own. There was no joy in uncovering them anywhere or at any time.  So I had come to the moment when I had to give my pals full-access, 360-degree view of my embarrassing parts. But, surprisingly, volunteering that naked view and witnessing my pals voluntarily naked actually made me feel safe. We seemed more alike in that moment than did than in our scattershot, disjointed conversations on the way up in the station wagon. Now my good feeling really just stemmed from the fact that my butt crack, wiener, and nuts weren’t drawing humiliation or scorn of any kind from people who’d shown themselves most capable of that. A fundamental law of the universe had been proven wrong. But that huge, huge relief registered with me emotionally as having a special trust or friendship with these guys. So, there was a large appeal in recreating that liberating, exhilarating experience in some way (“Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed to undress in front of me. We’re all made the same.”) Besides, it might seem okay to put a younger boy in a potentially embarrassing undressing situation if you know you will then be the one to assure him that there is nothing to be embarrassed about. Why you certainly won’t make fun of him and don’t mind showing him how things work. Your chest will surely puff out as you display the hairy groin you tell him he will have in a few years. While you’re at it, you can teach him to say cool profanties, like “Yo, b*tch,” and “F*** that.”

Of course, pornography is about exploitation, too. An R-rated scene of a couple having sex is a huge thrill, but less so if you’ve seen it a few times. You know what the boundaries are, you know what they won’t show you.  The bigger thrill is seeing something new that shocks you, or perhaps watching someone seeing something shocking. Much of that has been made on YouTube: reactions of people seeing something sexual and disgusting for the first time. I won’t say any more about that. But once you’ve seen something really outrageous, it’s difficult to identify what thrilled you. So, it’s easy to think you’re a pervert because you got really excited to, say, see people in pain. I think the thrill, though, is the feeling you had, “Oh, my God, I can’t believe I just saw that.” Really, I think it’s the same kick that might come from putting the f-word in front of a kid learning to read and saying, “How would you say that? It rhymes with duck. Do you want to know what it means?” The embarrassed grin when you tell him makes you feel important. So, sometimes, pornography is exciting because you imagine the people in it to be doing something humiliating or even something they didn’t agree to. Sometimes, the excitement comes from the roller coaster ride inside your own stomach.

Oh, did I say this manipulation and exploitation is wrong? Well, it is. And I’m not talking about wrong in a Mom-might-see-you, you-could-get-hurt-without-a-helmet, someone-worked-hard-to-make-that-lawn-look-nice, or something-bad-could-happen kind of wrong. I mean you are doing yourself harm and long-lasting regret is a certainty. Even if you don’t get caught. Even if your friend loosens up and actually seems happy to undress in front of you the next time. Even if the little kid you got to step into the pool shower naked with you assures you he loves spending time with you. Even if no one knows you like dirty pictures of perverted acts. It’s still wrong and wrong in a way that will wear you down and get you addicted to this kind of behavior and more—like a masturbation habit that won’t quit, a hardcore hunger for hardcore material, posing for yourself in sexy clothing, exposing yourself to people, and much, much, more.

Now, I’m not saying that it’s bad for guys to undress in front of each other or for guys to talk to each other about girls and sex or for a teenage boy to help a little girl and her little brother take a bath. And it’s almost inevitable that you will continue to see movies with more skin or worse behavior than you ever have before (up to a point, of course). What I want you to pay attention to is your feelings about these things and your behavior with regard to these feelings. You’ll know, won’t you, that your shy friend only changed in front of you because you made sure he’d have to look like an unfriendly prude to do otherwise. You can tell yourself at the time that everything is logical and ulterior motives played no part, but later on your intentions will register loud and proud. To be blunt about it, what happened becomes the stuff of your masturbation fantasies…and then you imagine further. Again, I don’t think these feelings or this behavior is related to sexual orientation. I’m talking about the kind of guy bonding you think you’d have if your friend, who audibly inhaled as he first pulled down his boxers in front of you a few months ago, would masturbate beside you in front of a Girls Gone Wild video you just got a hold of. The truth is that it is not bonding. It is not friendship. The good feeling comes from a focus on sexual parts and knowing that you got the best of people more innocent than you. Whether you know it or not, that registers deep inside your brain as you valuing yourself for your sexual parts, your sexual knowledge, and your sexual behavior. Just like with a cheap one night stand with a female, it’s about using people for their body and to watch how they react.

Don’t feel bad about boners. You clearly can get them without wanting them and God knows they don’t just disappear by will. (Just a side note: Once, years ago, I saw a teenager at a public pool with a perpendicular protrusion in his Speedo bikini. I was stunned that no one was reacting to it, including him. I have to say that probably played better than doubling over with a fake stomach cramp or running away with his hands attempting to block the view.) You must know, though, that you are completely responsible for your actions that you know will make for a most deliciously masturbatable boner later (yep, I made that word up). As I’ve said elsewhere on this website, I think it’s a given that young people masturbate. As you go through puberty and adolescence, sexual tension and pressure can be huge and masturbation is a natural way to relieve it. I don’t fault a young guy for imagining in detail what sex will be like with a pretty girl. Still, I know from experience that you can get hooked on sexual fantasy and masturbating to it. You can really get off on manipulating people and getting them to expose themselves or do something embarrassing, or looking at pictures or video of people who are vulnerable or manipulated. But the end result of the manipulation, real or in your head, is a hole in your soul, a deflated self-esteem. You will be a victim, too. When life feels like it’s all about your dick and the jerk-off sessions required to feed it, you only want more of the garbage that make your dick the center of your attention. Stop the cycle before you experience too much of it. Be well.

Feelings are fickle things. If you’ve determined to move beyond masturbation, pornography, and sexual fantasy, you’ve probably experienced the powerful high of feeling like your determination has already conquered the beast. You’ve probably also experienced every other possible emotion in the process: fear that you can’t do it, shame for what you’ve done in the past, anger that you have to do without, frustration, sorrow that you wasted a lot of energy, and jealousy of people who seem to be able to indulge without limits or consequences.

Feelings often translate into beliefs and those beliefs based on feelings are simply not reliable. Unfortunately, some of those feelings-based beliefs can make for very formidable roadblocks on the path to recovery. Consider:

“One of the downsides of the internet is that you can find people who support almost any perversion.”

I Was Born This Way

This explanation has covered a lot of bad behavior. I’m thinking of the Allman Brothers lyric: “Tryin’ to make a livin’ and doin’ the best I can. Lord, I hope you’ll understand. Lord, I was born a ramblin’ man.” And then God declared carte blanche on all carousing and bar brawlin’ and whatever else is covered by the term “ramblin”. Ha! If you settle into the theory that everything you feel and every compulsion you indulge in is dictated by the way God made you, what hope do any of us have? The whole point of Christianity is to acknowledge that humans are flawed. Genetics, education, and environment shape us, but without Christ we are flawed people who have no chance of pleasing the one who created us; i.e., have a satisfying life. If you are not a Christian, or perhaps don’t even believe in God, then I would make an argument that you would return a vehicle to the dealer if you found it defective. Protests of “it came from the factory that way” or even “that’s just the design” would not interest you. You had a notion of what the vehicle should be like or do and an appeal to just accept it as is won’t impress you.

There is no doubt that each of us was born with a very particular design. That was God’s plan. And what you are at birth certainly determines your strengths, your weaknesses, and even your preferences. But I don’t believe that anyone was created to wallow in smut or get stuck in any other self-pleasuring, self-destructive, self-centered lifestyle.

Sexual Abuse Made Perversion a Part of Me

I can’t even imagine what it is like to be sexually abused. I’m easily confused about how I got from blissful ignorance of my own body parts at ten to a sex obsession without any outside influence to speak of. When the very idea of sexual functions or acts feel like they were thought up by a person that abused you, how can that not permanently shape and color your sexual awareness, cautions, and emotions? For example, God made a man’s erect penis to serve a loving and pleasurable function. I suppose that for some men and women to use it that way means blocking out a time when it was used to harm, frighten, and control. I know we don’t have a reset button. Our hard drives can’t be wiped clean and reloaded with the originally-intended software. I also know that we have choices and logical brains. I know that there are many people who have moved past tragic circumstances.

I Already Went Too Far

This is self-doubt. And it’s natural. It’s easy to think, “If these people knew what I got off on last night they would come after me with pitchforks.” That sort of thinking will have you masturbating and digging up filthy images again in no time. God doesn’t give up on people. Check the Bible. People who did absolutely horrible crap became some of his most important messengers. Maybe your past sex problem involves bad behavior. Maybe you escaped appropriate consequences and feel guilty about that. I can’t tell you what to do about that, but I think that in a lot of situations, the phrases “what’s done is done” and “that ‘s water under the bridge” apply. Live in the now. Focus on the future. It’s never too late to gain respect for humans and their bodies and their souls.

Other People Are Doing It

One of the upsides of the internet and other modern media is that you can get support for even the most detailed concern. One of the downsides of the internet is that you can find people who support almost any perversion. A few decades ago, you were on your own with your romantic infatuation with parrots and insatiable need to wear underwear made of vacuum cleaner bags. You couldn’t just bring up such subjects at the bar and find an understanding ear. Now, there’s message boards to exchange experiences, fantasies, and generally egg on any flavor of perversion. The end result is that your belief that your obsessive sexual interests and compulsive sexual habits are wrong and do damage can always be undermined by reading messages from diehard fans of your former lifestyle.

Smut is Going Legit

There is nothing more destructive to my determination to put inappropriate sexual desires aside than when I find an example of lurid material presented as legitimate. If you bump into a website dressed in red and pink with flashing text and closeups of penetration on the home page, it screams “THIS IS SMUT! IT’S WRONG! GOOD PEOPLE SHOULD TURN AWAY!” When a legitimate free movie website offers pornography wrapped in an art film alongside family fare, why should that seem harmful? Or maybe it’s an old once-X-rated movie presented now as a grindhouse classic. What could be more fun? And right now, right on your Kindle, you can get smut stories to read in rotation with parenting books, biographies, and whatever else you like to buy from Amazon. The titles no longer need be just suggestive, like “Beyond the Bedroom Door”, but can now be completely blunt: “****ing My Sister’s Lover.” But what the hell? You’re shopping at the ubiquitous, mainstream, apple-pie American, Amazon.com. This ain’t the windowless Adult Superstore just off I-22. Nobody’s judging you.

I Can’t Deal With this New Environment

If I were the ideal man, I could boldly say, “I am who I am, wherever I am,” and not let myself be persuaded by situation. Of course, the truth is that I am too easily influenced. Maybe I stand my ground, but I’m sure my foundation is weaker. The summer after I graduated college, I joined other just-graduated kids for a tour of Europe. Our first evening in Paris included a planned trip to a famous live entertainment venue. At least several of the acts featured topless women. Of course, there were topless women to be found where I came from, but the sleazy nature of those venues would have kept me away from them. Having arrived in Europe, the rules had changed and my attitude was inclined to conform. The rules were different all over. A highway truck stop displayed magazines with nudity on them. Our low-cost hotel in Paris had posters that clearly advertised a live lesbian sex show. We stayed one night with a host family in Germany. For a short while, I thought I might be taking my first sip of alcohol just because that seemed to be the custom.

So, the threat of changing rules is not just from sources intent on corrupting a person. You might find yourself in a workplace conversation where women are talking about their husbands’ penis sizes with the same attitude they’ve described their children’s potty training. Worse yet, they inquire of your anatomy for comparison. Suddenly, your sexual interests or activities are water cooler-safe. Maybe you see kids playing in a city park fountain in their underwear and it makes you wonder if voyeurism has been given a bad name. Maybe you see a news story about the World Naked Bike Ride and it makes you question everything you’ve ever thought about naked bodies. (Unfortunately, I think that despite the contentions that everybody shedding their clothing makes nudity less of a big deal, it does quite the opposite and makes us want to study nudity in great detail and fantasize about other situations and groups we think should shun clothing.)

It’s My Most Dependable Blankie

For better or worse, when threatened, bored, lonely, angry, stressed, tired, sad, anxious, or confused, it makes perfect emotional sense to go with what we know. There’s a scene I really relate to in a 1974 Gene Hackman movie. The Conversation is a slow-moving suspense story, but it’s a more a character study than a thriller. Hackman plays an electronic eavesdropper-for-hire who is very reluctant to show his emotions. That trait makes the scene I’m about to describe more shocking. After he delivers the tape of a conversation, he fears that he’s enabled a murder plan. He doesn’t actually do anything to prevent it, but when it happens, he’s in the hotel room next door. It’s not clear what he was hoping for other than to confirm his small hope that the plan isn’t carried out. When Hackman instead hears the unmistakeable sound of the murder act, anguish fills his face. Then our hero, who’s been standing in his just-rented hotel room with his overcoat and hat still on him, does what I would. He dives under the covers of the bed and he grabs at the covers desperately, as if he wishes the bed would swallow him up and forever shut off the world he can’t handle any more. Pathetic, right? What’s it look like when the arrival of an unexpected bill in the mail “forces” you to find something hard core to “calm you down?”

Conclusion

Okay, so this page is full of excuses. It’s true, the world will blindside us. It won’t support our intent to function at a higher level. It will regularly play with our emotions and question our wisdom. You are sober now. You didn’t hastily conclude that habitual masturbation and porn use and indulgence in fantasy are things you want to move beyond. You made your decision based on years of observations. Your beliefs are based on logic and the facts informing that logic do not change just because an unlikely lurid proposition surprises you. You are a grown-up now. You are responsible for your actions. Be a stable ship on the ocean. The waves may rock and the storms may come, but calm will return and show your go-with-the-flow attitude to be foolish. Always be on the lookout for storms. Keep watch and know how to man your battle stations.

Candidly, I have to tell you that some of my happiest self-induced orgasms have happened after I abstained for a while. In fact, that was typical for my cycle of temptation. I’d get sick of the habit and the related thoughts and I’d swear off it for a few days or a couple of weeks. Then a curious thought would pop into my head. I’d ponder it and get caught up in it and then I’d craft a fantasy around it. I’d check out safe references to confirm or dissipate my concerns and curiosities. Not satisfied with same-old, same-old, I would tread into more dangerous territory. I’d tell myself I just needed the right information, but urges would increase until I delved into something guaranteed to push my button. Then, to my shock, I’d come across some image or even my own fantasy that I “couldn’t handle.” And suddenly my staunch opposition to jerking off was replaced with serious determination to do just that. Of course, relief would come quickly, and with such a deep and satisfying force. For a moment, I was so incredibly relaxed and satisfied. No earthly problem could block the rays of sunshine bathing my glorious body…but, of course, it didn’t last. I’d be doing it at least twice more in the next few hours. It would be much less powerful, require a lot of concentration, and might even cause a little bit of irritation on my penis, but “one and done” is not phrase compatible with the habit of masturbation. The single, incredibly happy ejaculation was always followed by days of very compulsive “I can’t not do this” jerk-off sessions at the bathroom sink.

Of course, that whole cycle of temptation requires holding fast to several lies, including the whopper that I need to check out the pornography that previously gripped me tightly so that I can become desensitized to it. The true aim is to stoke the old familiar fires and if there’s any boredom to be found, that just translates into, “I need something that shows me more.”

In my years of habitual masturbation, when my attitude about it ranged from very casual, “it’s just what I do”, to damn-the-consequences, “I love masturbating,” to “I wish I weren’t this person”, there were many jerk-off sessions that I readily self-acknowledged to be meant for non-sexual self-therapy. I’d be worried or unhappy about something and then I’d go “masturbate about it”. I mean I’d walk into the bathroom completely unaroused and start from scratch. If you think about it, it’s like going in to a Great Clips—expecting a hair cut—and a stylist with a half-smile shoves a tray in your face and says, “Hey,we were having a party. Deviled egg?” You know you can get in the mood, but it’s so unnatural and awkward. So, there I’d be, completely unaroused. I dispensed the lubricant and proceeded to force the mood. So, the end result was a more like a distraction from my disappointments, anxiety, and boredom than a genuine tension reliever. And in the process I felt like I’d played a crude game with my body. I had to dig into my head for the most disgusting, most exploitative, most inhumane sexual scenarios to create this labored sexual excitement…that I would then relieve. To exaggerate just a little, I felt a bit like a prostitute. Wouldn’t you just hate yourself if you had to act like taking a random man’s penis inside you brought you to the height of passion? Well, it’s also disgusting when after a half hour of stroking, you realize you are starting to lose your erection. If you are even just a little bit honest with yourself, you know you’ve just been misusing your body. Desperately conjuring a last-minute hardcore-but-reliable raunchy fantasy scenario just to get the semen outside you only slaps you in the face with that much more guilt and regret.

I’m not an expert in stress management and tension relief, but I know that masturbating to relieve stress and tension is misguided. At the end of the day, I’m not sure that it even reduces stress or tension that it didn’t cause. It’s far better to deal with your problems directly than to force sexual arousal and interest on yourself. As far as your body, food and exercise more directly address it’s stresses and tensions than artificial sexual expression.

Be good to yourself.