I can always count on myself.
So, without adieu, the reasons I love to masturbate — some of the many, many reasons:
- I never have to schedule a visit. I always know when my hand is free.
- Rolling over and sleeping is exactly the right move, every time. Unless you’re surf’n’satisfyin’ on the tube/’net.
- No concern about who gets the wet spot. I do. (In theory.)
- Doing laundry isn’t an automatic repercussion of experiencing the Big O.
- I can always meet my own expectations.
- Enthusiasm is a given.
- I don’t have to dress up in order to get off.
- The ultimate quickie: Satisfaction with a minute or so of effort.
- It’s free.
- It’s portable.
- It’s fun.
- When I can’t afford to pay for a massage, I can masturbate. Often.
- Keeps me in touch with myself.
- Reminds me that Catholic Church, for me, is like home: I can never go back. Sin is simply too damned fun, and remembering them all for confession would be far too labourious.
- It’s a healthy outlet for all my repressed societal angst.
- Nostalgia: The many, many times I’ve revisited that very same Happy Place, and every time I smiled.
- It’s better than watching golf on a Sunday morning.
- Stress management. They claim one orgasm has the neurological benefits of 10 Valiums. And cheaper.
- Because my carpal tunnel syndrome hasn’t crippled me yet.
- Because I can.
- Because I get to play with toys.
I’m sure there are more reasons, but that would involve investing more time, and I could be masturbating instead. Priorities, right?