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33. The Need to Masturbate

“Pssst.” No response.

“Pssst. Are you sleeping?” Still no response from the bunk across the room. He’s asleep. It’s go time.

While the need to flush the lovepipes during a long trip may be more urgent to men than to women, I’m sure the ladies must pleasure themselves from time to time in shared-room settings. Whether or not they can be as stealthy doing it, I have no idea. I suppose that means yes, they have been.

Many a real man has admitted to jacking off in the hostel shower (see 20. Getting “wubes”). Makes sense. If you’re traveling with other people, the shower is one of the few moments of “alone time” you get in the day. Although I enjoy that method (particularly if it involves conditioner), I’m simply more of a lie-down masturbator.

And I don’t need to explain how pleasuring yourself is, ironically, more of a selfless act than a selfish one. For me, it’s simply because I am an extremely dangerous person if I try to wait out a wet dream (haven’t had one since 1997). I’m looking out for the safety of others. As Chris Elliott’s character, Woogie, exclaimed in There’s Something About Mary, not “flogging the dolphin” before a big date is like “going out with a loaded gun!”

spacey

Discreet self-disarmament, however, is tough during group travel. While the scene in American Beauty, where Kevin Spacey spanks his monkey laying beside his sleeping wife, is not farfetched, I wouldn’t recommend it. (Note: Spacey jerks off in the shower too, at the beginning of the film.) And as anybody who’s been in a hostel dorm room with two people fucking in it already knows, some people get drunk and make mincemeat of discretion anyway.

But I continue to hide it and bust my nuts like a ninja when the time is right. I’m a classy guy. What can I say?

It has to be done. The following are reasons why I am a regular chicken choker, especially while traveling:

  • No game. I have no game, so I’m forced to attend to my own needs more than the Don Juan backpacker-types, musicians (esp. acoustic guitarists) or Aussie guys for that matter. I’m OK with that.
  • Plenty of material. Although no hot chicks backpack, you definitely encounter a lot of hot chicks while backpacking (local girls, hot girls staying in hotels, hot girls traveling with their douche boyfriends, etc.) so your mental photo album is bursting at the seams daily. There’s deece everywhere. No game + full spank bank = an overwhelming need to masturbate.
  • Stopped in the red zone. It was a big night. You tried scraping out some semblance of game. You may have been vying to score. You may even have gotten DFMOs. Everything looked good, but she didn’t want to try doing it in the hostel broom closet, her girlfriend dragged her home, etc. Damned if you should go to bed with blue balls!
  • Homesickness/Loneliness. Traveling alone sucks.
  • Insomnia. Traveling alone and not being able to sleep sucks even worse. Plus, skeet-skeeting makes me sleepy.
  • Low self-esteem. Sigh.

And there you have it. Masturbation should be an integral part of your physical and mental health regimen. Absolutely nothing keeps a single, male backpacker as confident, well rested and alert as some good ‘ol hands-on therapy. But careful with the bar soap rub-out in the shower. That shit stings like a motherfucker.

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2 Responses to “33. The Need to Masturbate”

  1. Alvey says:

    Oh….from a little brother’s perspective, trust me. He ain’t lying about being a “regular chicken choker” especially while traveling. I’ve woken afew nights next to his “not exactly as stealthy as he’d like to think” night time ritual. Ninja? Prowess reminiscent of Chris Farley’s 1997 portayal in Beverly Hills Ninja. That brings me to that one night, that one night in sunny SanDiego. Summer vacation circa 1996 or sumfin. After an episode of Wild On Cancoon hosted by the legendary spank worthy Brook Burke. (ahem..) I retire earlier then he who shall not be named. Let’s just say It’s not the most ideal way for any sibling, of any age or sexe to wake up. Catching your older brother “red handed” (no pun) has a tendency of painfully, whether you like it or not, way of burning that dreadful image into your consciousness. There should be a law where by such activities done at such close proximity, especially to those next of kin, where the offender faces equally if not more humiliating consequences. Having been discovered with “your pants down”(pun intended) isn’t nearly punishment enough. Really, Who is the victim? Not saying I’m 100% innocent to the crime. I admit my guilt. Davey, you’re lucky to have been a deep sleeper home boy. We’re talkin inches away homes. I could feel your breath hitting my shoulder dude. With cat like quickness, I’d return to neutral position at any irregular breath. They should have casted me as The Ninja Assasin, Rain ain’t got nothing on me baby!!! except for maybe abit more definition in the midsection. abit

  2. mike says:

    Speaking of Rain, Alvey, why don’t you go for some roles in American film or TV? Not like you’ll need an English coach.

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