Celibacy at Thirty-Six

I was chatting with a friend the other day, and somehow we got on the subject of lucid dreaming. I said that the closest I ever came to being able to do that was way back in adolescence when I had wet dreams. Just about every single night I would have nocturnal emissions. It was a real hassle to have to clean up the mess all the time, and I was embarrassed that my mother would see the come stains on all my jockey shorts. I eventually got to the point that I could wake up enough to stop the ejaculations before they would actually happen. Of course once I started masturbating the wet dreams promptly ceased and have never returned.

That was then. This is now. These days I'd absolutely love to have wet dreams again. The very thought of spewing into my own underwear as I lie sleeping, and waking to find it seeping through onto my sheets, makes me totally hot. This doesn't even take into account the possibilities of the fantasy sexual situations my subconscious might concoct. The idea is so intriguing, actually, that I've put forth an effort to get it to happen again.

This is easier said than done. How does one possibly go about inspiring wet dreams? The only way I could think of was to stop having orgasms altogether, and thus force my body to expel the built-up seminal fluids through wet dreams. This, too, is easier said than done. I've experimented with abstinence from masturbation in the past. On the few occasions that I'd actually make it to a second or third day without submitting to temptation, I'd invariably wind up getting blue balls. My body seems to generate rather a large quantity of seminal fluids. When I ejaculate, I always experience a minimum of eight spurts. Usually it's more like ten or twelve. It doesn't take long for my glandular apparatus to start telling me it's time to drain the reservoirs.

This time, however, I have motivation to resist temptation and endure the discomfort of blue balls. The thought of having wet dreams again is, in fact, a very powerful motivator. It would have to be. After I started masturbating I literally never stopped. It's been more or less a daily activity for me for the past twenty-two years. I can't remember ever going for more than three or maybe four days without jerking off. The only times have been when I've had a regular sex partner, and even then I was still having frequent ejaculations.

About a week ago I realized that I'd gone for a couple days without jerking off, and I decided I'd go ahead and see how long I could make it last. I knew that this would have to be complete, monk-like celibacy. The best way for me to avoid masturbating is to not get anything started in the first place. I know that once I get a stiffy and start playing with it, I don't have the resolve to stop. Many a night I've caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I walked in to my bedroom. When I see myself naked except for my skimpy white briefs, the profile of my own dick pushing against the front, and the soft fabric stretched across my round butt, I can't help but tear them off and start pumping away. I can't just play with myself for a while and then go to bed. It just doesn't work that way for me. The thought of gushing all over my heavily stained come rag is too much to resist.

For this abstinence to succeed I knew I'd have to avoid those late-night glimpses. I knew I'd have to avoid touching my nipples which always seem to be erect after I dry off from my morning shower. I knew I'd have to avoid playing with myself as I lay in front of the TV set. Beyond the fact that I probably wouldn't be able to stop, I knew that any erectile indulgences would worsen the effects of blue balls. Previous experiences have taught me that if I get fluids churning away and don't expel them that they start causing pain pretty quickly. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that celibacy was the most accurate way to describe it. It wasn't just stopping myself from ejaculating. It meant completely avoiding temptation or sexual excitement of any kind.

I expected the attempt to be fraught with anxiety and frustration. In fact, it has proven to be an overwhelmingly positive experience. There have been so many physiological and psychological changes on a daily basis that I decided to track it day by day:

Day 0 - Saturday 1998-Oct-10

I always seem to wake up horny on Saturdays. Within an hour of rising, I had jerked off to the point of ejaculation. That afternoon I decided that I was still horny. I jerked off a second time to the point of ejaculation. Although only a few hours had passed, I still squirted 11 times.

Day 1 - Sunday 1998-Oct-11

This was an ordinary day. I didn't avoid masturbating. The idea just never struck me. That night as I was retiring I thought about performing my nightly ritual. I attempted to achieve an erection, but quickly realized it would be more trouble than it was worth at that moment in time. I shut off the lights and climbed into bed.

Day 2 - Monday 1998-Oct-12

I got the urge to jerk off during the Sci Fi Channel's Star Trek Special Edition, as I normally do, but for reasons unknown decided not to. When it came time to go to bed, again for reasons unknown, I decided to avoid my nightly masturbation ritual.

Day 3 - Tuesday 1998-Oct-13

By this time I realized that I'd gone two days without jerking off and decided to implement full-scale abstinence in hopes of inducing wet dreams. It was also at this time that I realized that I must not tempt myself, even slightly, if this was to work. I avoided glimpsing myself in the mirror. It was even a little bit of a relief. I had gotten so much in the habit of jerking off before I went to bed that it had become almost a chore. It sometimes took a fair amount of effort to achieve an erection. Without going to the effort to get it up, my dick stayed soft all on its own and there wasn't too much temptation to fight.

Day 4 - Wednesday 1998-Oct-14

I experienced a slightly heightened sense of arousal during the course of the day, which is always nice. I got a chubby in the locker room shower after my workout, which hadn't happened in a long time. When I was milling about my house in the evening I had to avoid thoughts of sex or I knew I'd pop a boner instantly. When I got into bed my body didn't wait for REM sleep before my dick got hard.

Day 5 - Thursday 1998-Oct-15

By now I was pretty sure that this is the longest I've ever gone without an ejaculation since I first started ejaculating. I started experiencing some tenderness in my balls, probably due to the fact that I had a boner all night long. I got another chubby in the locker room. I found myself thinking about sex constantly. I wanted to jerk off really, really badly, but my motivation was holding. Not only was I proud of myself for resisting temptation, but the constant state of near-arousal that I was in all day long gave me a certain kind of energy. I felt raw and animalistic. I felt like I could climb mountains, swim raging rivers, and fight angry grizzly bears. In a word, I felt younger.

Day 6 - Friday 1998-Oct-16

I awoke with morning wood that didn't want to go away. I tried to ignore my dick as it remained hard during my shower. I tried to ignore the stimulation as my towel kept brushing against it as I dried off. I crammed it into my jockey shorts, zipped up my jeans, and started my day. The raw, animalistic energy was still with me. I got a raging boner in the locker room shower. I even got semi's when I whipped it out to take a leak. The tenderness in my balls was becoming more pronounced, exacerbated I'm sure by the frequent erections I was now experiencing.

At this point I found myself really missing my own dick. Although I was getting erections all the time, I couldn't enjoy them. I couldn't gaze down at my stiff cock admiringly. I couldn't touch it and stroke it. I've never been the type of guy who has a name for his dick, or speaks of it in the third person, but I began to gain an appreciation for the reasons men tend to behave in that way. Your erect dick is like a friend who only comes by once in a while. It's a good friend, who only knows how to have a good time, who's presence brings joy and pleasure. I was missing my dick like I'd miss a cherished companion.

The process of urinating was becoming my masturbation. It was the only time during the day I touched my dick, and the expulsion of urine was the closest thing to ejaculation that I could experience. I also felt odd sensations in my internal plumbing after the urination had ended. It felt almost like tiny little ejaculations, although nothing came out the end of my dick.

Day 7 - Saturday 1998-Oct-17

I've gotten into the habit of extended cardiovascular exercise on Saturday mornings, as it's the only time I have the opportunity to exercise for a prolonged period of time. As I stripped naked to put on my workout clothes, I paused briefly to observe my genitalia. My dick was semi-erect, as it was almost all the time now. I don't know if my balls were actually swollen, but my sack definitely seemed larger and fuller than usual, and was deep red in color. The whole organ felt like it was charged with electricity. I became aware of the blood and hormones that were continuously surging through it. I knew it was the source of this animalistic power that I continued to experience, and I contemplated that feeling of power as I continued to gaze at it. I felt like a bull, like I was defined by my penis and testicles, like my existence was based on my ability to hump. My organ was so completely full of potential energy that it felt magical, or divine, or both. In that moment I felt more completely masculine that I've ever felt in my life. I felt like I was radiating a strong aura of manhood that was the brightest right down between my legs.

Before this went any farther I put on my workout clothes and tried to distract myself with strenuous exercise. When I went out for my run the tenderness in my balls was a bit problematic. I was wearing the most snug jock strap I own, however, and after a few strides it seemed like I'd be able to endure. My dick was in various stages of being semi-erect as it bounced around my groin. I returned to my house and finished my workout. I again stripped bare to take my shower. I was not paying attention to my dick this time, but it was fully erect nonetheless. By the time I was finished drying off it was as stiff as it can get. I did my best to ignore it and I got dressed.

As my erection began to fade I knew I now had full-blown blue balls. There was pain and throbbing and everything. I wanted to jerk off just to ease the considerable discomfort. Before I had a chance, however, the phone rang. An old friend was in town and we decided to get together. We wound up walking around Ithaca for the whole afternoon. I wouldn't recommend that as an activity when you've got chronic blue balls, but by the time we were saying goodbye the pain was definitely fading. I went home, put on a loose pair of boxers, and lay in front of the TV for the evening. At least the pain was mitigating my overpowering sexual desires.

Day 8 - Sunday 1998-Oct-18

So begins my second week of celibacy. I awoke this morning with the pain in my groin almost gone. I took my morning leak and afterwards paused to see if I'd experience another one of those micro-ejaculation sensations. At first I didn't, but then I felt the distinctive sensation of fluids being released internally. Just then a few drops of clear liquid popped out the end of my dick. I touched the fluid that remained to see if it would form a viscous strand as I pulled my finger away, the way that pre-ejaculate does. It didn't do that, but as I smeared it around between my finger and thumb it got kind of foamy the way that semen does. I touched it to my tongue. It didn't taste as much like pre-come as I expected it to, but it didn't taste like urine either.

I began to wonder what was going on with my anatomy. I had heard on TV once that the pain of blue balls is caused by seminal vessels that are swollen with fluid that is not discharged. I had also heard that the pain goes away in a day or so, but I didn't know what happened to the built-up fluid. I'm now working on a theory that it is released gradually into the urinary duct and expelled during urination, or in extreme cases it is expelled directly shortly after urination, as it had just done. If anyone knows any more about this, send me an email.

I began to think more about the prospect of having wet dreams, and how to make the most of them. One thing was for sure, and that was that each pair of soiled undershorts would be preserved and saved for ever, along with a detailed write-up of the dream that caused the stain. To make each one all the more special, I decided that I would select a brand new, virgin pair of shorts, wear it only as I slept in bed, and wear that same pair every night without ever washing them until I finally have a wet dream. Once one pair was soiled I'd select another virgin pair and begin the cycle all over again.

I went to the store to buy the brand new package of shorts. I knew exactly what I wanted: Hanes classic white briefs, size 30. While pawing through packages, I found one that included a free pair of briefs, and it was in a designer style. It was the same cut as classic white Hanes, but were colored and had a print pattern on them with a solid gray waist band. This was intriguing. I get off on "sexy" underwear, but generally find them really uncomfortable to wear for a full day. These had a sexy appearance, but fit me just like my beloved Hanes always do. The fact that they were ordinary and special at the same time made them very exciting indeed. Either that or I was so fucking horny from not jerking off that my hormones were making more of it than was really there. Either way, I purchased that package and ran straight home to try on that special pair. Of course I was stiff before I even had my jeans down to my ankles, but that was becoming pretty normal at this point. I put on that magical pair of Hanes and found them to be everything I'd hoped for. For the rest of the day I wound up having erections far more frequently than would be advisable in my already tender condition.

That night before I went to bed I slipped off my sexy Hanes to put on my first virgin pair. I paused, naked, before my mirror. Once more I was fully erect before the underwear had even been removed. Although I knew it was not a good idea to tease myself, I thought a little stimulation might help to inspire an erotic dream. I didn't want to touch my stiff rod because I feared I wouldn't be able to stop and the past week would have been wasted. Instead I tweaked my nipples. My entire organ began to tingle wildly. My dick was so fully swollen that the skin on my knob was stretched tight and light was reflecting off the shiny surface. I continued until I started to feel fluids being released in my scrotal plumbing. I forced myself to stop, slipped on the pure white jockeys, and cramming my hard boner down inside. My dick was so incredibly sensitive that this mere action almost made me come. I looked down and saw that a drop of pre-come had seeped through. "A good way to start," I thought to myself. I got into bed and lay on my back so as not to stimulate my dick any more, which was still twitching slightly in the early stages of orgasm.

Day 9 - Monday 1998-Oct-19

I awoke without morning wood, much to my surprise. I got out of bed and immediately removed my virgin underwear. By the time they were off I was fully erect. I began to appreciate the expression "pop" a boner. My dick, previously soft, pretty much went "boing" and was totally stiff. I tossed the underwear on my pillow, so that when I lay my face against it that night I would know it would be touching the surface on which this underwear had been resting all day.

I was further surprised to find that the effect of blue balls had all but vanished. There was some slight tenderness on the sides of my scrotum up high by where it meets the inner-thigh. My balls still felt a little plump, but were not as sensitive as they'd been before. I could cross my legs without feeling like I was squashing them in a vice. Rather than being relieved, I actually missed the sensation somewhat. Having a constant sensation within my scrotum, even if somewhat unpleasant, was what kept me constantly aware of my manhood and the precious organ between my legs.

My dick was not quite as prone to erection as it had been, but I still got a chubby in the locker room shower. I'd always wondered what excuse I would use if some homophobic jock confronted me for my vulgar display. Finally I had a legitimate reason. "Hey, I'm celibate and so full of hormones I can't control it." Even a religious fundamentalist would have to accept that.

That night at home I considered hanging out in my magical sexy Hanes briefs to inspire more erections, but decided that I'd be better off mellowing out. I am still trying to be true to the nature of celibacy, which is to say avoiding deliberate sexual stimulation as well as actual sexual activity. I did, however, strip bare before walking downstairs to brush my teeth naked before my large bathroom mirror. As I stepped before the mirror I absentmindedly anticipated seeing a change in my physical appearance, like I did the first several times I stepped before a mirror back when I dyed my hair. When I saw my reflection looking normal, I had to remind myself that the myriad changes I'm experiencing are all internal, not external. Looking down at my dick I saw I had a semi, but wasn't fully erect. Back upstairs I considered tweaking my nipples before climbing into bed again, but I wasn't stiff at the time and I decided to forego it. I donned my virgin underwear and climbed under the covers.

Day 10 - Tuesday 1998-Oct-20

I woke up again without any appreciable morning wood. I got a pretty serious semi after I slipped off my virgin underwear, but not a full stiffy. The blue balls still seemed to be at bay, although I could sense some low-level sensations from time to time. I would still feel some fluids churning around after I urinated, but draining my bladder was losing its appeal as a surrogate orgasm, and it didn't inspire semi's the way it used to. All in all, the novelty of the whole escapade was wearing off, and the electric energy I'd been experiencing was definitely dissipating. This journal might become real boring real quick.

When I got to work I found that someone had sent me the URL of a site that offers tips on avoiding masturbation, and preaches as to why it is so entirely evil (thanks Walter!). As I read the site, I didn't know whether I should laugh or be enraged. I swear, this stuff sounded like it was originally written in the middle ages. I kept expecting to read that the sun orbits the earth. Here are some excerpts:

By far the worst form of venereal indulgence is self-pollution, or, as it is called by medical writers, onanism or masturbation. And it is incomparably the worst for several important reasons.

Masturbation is a sinful habit that robs one of the Spirit and creates guilt and emotional stress. It is a habit that is totally self-centered, secretive, and in no way expresses the proper use of the procreative power given to man to fulfill eternal purposes. It therefore separates a person from God and defeats the gospel plan.

It would seem that God, as an instinct law in the innate moral sense, remonstrates against this filthy vice; for, however ignorant the boy may be of the moral character of the act or of the physical and mental evils which result from it; though he may never have been told that it is wrong; yet every one who is guilty of it feels an instinctive shame and deep self-loathing even in his secret solitude, after the unclean deed is done! - and that youth has made no small progress in the depravity of his moral feelings who has so silenced the dictates of natural modesty that he can, without the blush of shame, pollute himself in the presence of another, even his most intimate companion!

There is also a wide diversity of opinion among skillful physicians themselves as to its consequences. Some treat the whole matter lightly, saying that a large proportion of boys and young men abuse themselves thus without serious or lasting injury, and hold, therefore, that any special warning is uncalled for. On the other hand, the large majority of practitioners are convinced that not only occasionally, but frequently, the results are disastrous in the extreme.

"I would not exaggerate this matter or imply that those who have occasionally gone astray are necessarily incurably diseased, or their souls irretrievably lost. But I do consider that the effect upon the constitution is detrimental in the extreme. Enfeebling to the body, enfeebling to the mind, the incarnation of selfishness, hardly the person exists who does not know from experience or from observation its blighting effects." "I myself have seen many young men drop into premature graves from this cause alone." "I consider this one of the most certain means which shorten and derange life." These are well-considered views of the ablest men in the profession of medicine.

In very severe cases it may be necessary to tie a hand to the bed frame with a tie in order that the habit of masturbating in a semi-sleep condition can be broken. This can also be accomplished by wearing several layers of clothing which would be difficult to remove while half asleep.

Certainly marriage need not be recommended to the confirmed masturbator in the hope or expectation of curing him of his vice. He will most likely continue it afterwards, and the circumstances in which he is placed will aggravate the misery and the mischief of it. For natural intercourse he has little power or no desire, and finds no pleasure in it; the indulgence of a depraved appetite has destroyed the natural appetite. Besides, if he be not entirely impotent, what an outlook for any child begotten of such a degenerate stock! Has a being so degraded any right to curse a child with the inheritance of such a wretched descent? Far better that the vice and its consequences should die with him.

When everything else fails we have no hesitation in recommending surgical treatment. This is of various kinds, from repeated blistering to that ancient operation which Latin writers tell us was practiced upon the singers of the Roman stage, called infibulation. This is of such a character as to render the act impossible or nearly so. Castration, which some have suggested, need never be resorted to. By one means or another we can say that there are exceedingly few cases, except the actually insane, who can not be broken of their habit, and considerably or wholly relieved of its after effects.

I won't describe in detail my feelings about those passages, as I'm sure everyone out there would be thinking the exact same thing, but I will make a couple comments. As always seems to be the case with reactionary religious dogma, they've got it 180 degrees wrong. The simple act of masturbation, requiring only 5 or 10 minutes, will drain the body of sexual desire for a day or more. Depriving the body of this release causes the subject to walk around in a constant, heightened state of arousal, continuously experiencing "impure" thoughts. I didn't embark on this journey to become more pious. I did so to make myself as horny as possible, and to spill my seed in my sleep. That's another thing. They say that masturbation "in no way expresses the proper use of the procreative power given to man to fulfill eternal purposes," but then don't address how the involuntary act of nocturnal discharge, to these people surely inspired by God himself, is also contrary to our "eternal purposes." I could go on and on, but that's not the purpose of this essay...

If you're truly interested to read more, the URL is http://members.tripod.com/~Leon1/forum.html.

That evening I wandered around the house and watched TV without experiencing any significant level of arousal. When it came time to go to bed I stripped naked to find a shriveled dick and sagging balls. This was quite a contrast to the semi-erect cock and high&tight sack that I'd grown accustomed to. I considered arousing myself before retiring but decided to just go to bed.

I couldn't sleep and got up for a snack after a while. I yanked off my virgin shorts, put on my sexy Hanes, nuked up some Stouffer's Macaroni & Cheese, and watched Brosius hit a 3-run homer, causing the Yankees to take the lead away from San Diego in the 3rd game. I went back upstairs to go back to bed. As I removed my sexy Hanes, I felt something stuck to the material in the front. I examined it and what looked like 3 or 4 small spots of dried come. The thing was that they were located way down in the front by the fly, rather than up by the waistband where the end of my erect dick should be. I believe that these spots were generated during post-urination dripping, thus supporting my theory that seminal fluids are being released during and/or after urination.

Of course by this time I was completely stiff. I looked at my hard cock in the mirror and tweaked my nipples. My entire shaft began to tingle. I got into my standard masturbation position, on my knees with legs spread wide, and continued tweaking my nipples. The tingling sensation increased. I stared at my erection for a few minutes, fighting the urge to grab it firmly and spank it as hard as I could. I was really, really tempted. Before this went any further, I shut off the light and got back in bed.

Day 11 - Wednesday 1998-Oct-21

Yet again I had minimal morning wood. But I *think* I had a dream about ejaculation. That's a good sign, at least. I didn't really have any symptoms of blue balls, despite having seriously stimulated myself the night before. I got a nice chubby in my morning shower, and stimulated myself a bit while getting dressed.

Later that morning I had another post-urination discharge (PUD). I'm starting to understand the pattern a little better. After I finish urinating, there is a brief pause of 5 - 10 seconds. Then there's the sensation down in my scrotal plumbing, followed directly by liquid squirting from my penis. It's that delay that really separates this from ordinary post-urination dribble.

That night at home I wasn't all that horny, but I decided to hang out in my sexy Hanes anyway. I got a woody when I first put them on, but it subsided after a while. The neighbor's kid came over to visit, though, and I had to put on a pair of jeans. That night before going to bed I decided to stimulate myself again. Since blue balls haven't been much of a problem I've decided that there's no real danger in this. Still, I think it's something I should avoid. It's getting really, really, really difficult to resist the temptation to just slap my cock a couple times and spray my come all over the walls. I feel like I could put out a house fire with my jism right about now. I don't know how much longer I can keep that kind of power under control. It would definitely be prudent to avoid arousing it altogether. After a few minutes of pinching my nipples and lightly spanking my bare ass I put on my virgin underwear and went to bed.

Day 12 - Thursday 1998-Oct-22

Once again I had no morning wood to speak of. I'm starting to wonder what's up with that. Not much of a semi in the shower either, but I did get a little hard while I was getting dressed. I did experience some testicular discomfort from my stimulation the night before, but it was different. Whereas it's usually a dull throbbing kind of sensation, this time it was a sharper pain as if someone was pinching it. It didn't last too long, though.

I got a pretty fat semi in the locker room showers.

I got the local weekly paper, and in the personal ads was a "dominant female" looking for a submissive male. I started to have fantasies about meeting up with this woman, allowing her to get me all hot and bothered, but not allow me to have an orgasm. I think my hormones are so out of control that I'm really starting to reach for ways to get turned on.

That night I avoided my recent stimulation sessions and went straight to bed.

Day 13 - Friday 1998-Oct-23

I finally had some morning wood. Not much to speak of, but more than I'd been having. I got somewhat of a semi in the shower that morning. As I was getting dressed I started tweaking my nipples and my dick sprang to life. I decided to have breakfast naked, but once I got into the kitchen and my dick started flapping around and brushing against things I figured it probably wasn't that great of an idea.

I didn't get too much of a boner in the locker room showers, but that was mostly due to self-control than lack of arousal.

That night I majorly stimulated myself before going to bed. Since I hadn't been having a lot of blue balls symptoms lately I figured that it was safe. The problem was that it made me really want to jerk off. I used the lightest possible techniques of contact with my penis itself. I blew on it with my breath to feel the sensation of the air falling over it. I lightly brushed it with a feather. I got some pre-ejaculate to come out the end with virtually no physical contact at all. After some time of this I decided to put on my virgin underwear and go to sleep.

Day 14 - Saturday 1998-Oct-24

I got up and went for a run pretty much first thing. I managed to get through it without getting too stimulated. I showered off afterwards again controlling my stimulation. I went into the office for a few hours to get some extra work done. While I was there I availed myself of a rare opportunity to browse dirty web sites. I went for the Gay S&M Web Ring. I saw lots of pix of bondage and fisting and all kinds of stuff. It kept me pretty hard the whole time that I was there.

After a few hours I went back to my house. It was an unseasonably warm and sunny day for late October in Northern New York. I stripped naked and lay in the grass of my lawn. There were lady bugs everywhere. I captured some and put them on my hard dick, thinking that the sensation of them crawling around on me would be stimulating. Unfortunately they were too small and light to give much of a sensation at all. That is until one bit me. I had no idea that lady bugs bit. I flicked it off and stood up to get dressed. Suddenly there were lady bugs swarming all over me. I was almost in a panic as I tried to keep them off my naked skin lest any get trapped inside my clothes and keep biting me.

That night I went into town and hung out with my old boyfriend Monté. I would have loved to fool around with him, but he had one of his college buddies over, and this whole celibacy thing would have made it difficult and frustrating anyway.

I went home fairly early, stimulated myself to the point of oozing some pre-ejaculate, and went to bed.

Day 15 - Sunday 1998-Oct-25

I got up and went for a run again. I shaved my chest before I showered off, so that I can better track the progress that I'm starting to make in the gym. I showered off and got dressed. I spent the better part of the day working on an old Citroën that I'd bought but not transported home yet. Afterwards I got groceries, had dinner, and watched TV. Again I stimulated myself until I saw some pre-come and then went to bed.

Day 16 - Monday 1998-Oct-26

The day started out pretty ordinary. I had low levels of stimulation during my morning shower, while I was dressing, at the gym, and in the shower after my workout. That night I decided to shave the rest of my torso. I buzzed everything down with my clippers, including the hair on my sack and the sides of my shaft. I got in the shower and ran a razor blade over those same areas. This was really the first time I'd ever actually "shaved" my scrotum. I got out feeling pretty sexy. I put on a cock ring. I put on another one. And another one. That gave me 3 cock rings around the base of my member, which was pushing the whole organ upward and away from my body. Coupled with the shaved look it was really hot. I decided to go to the grocery store to pick up some items. I left the cock ring on, and put on an old pair of jeans that were pretty tight. I crammed my package in and zipped up. I felt like I had a grapefruit in my pants. I drove to the store like that, although I did untuck my shirt to cover myself up a little. My stiff boner finally subsided after I'd driven about 5 miles. By the time I bought my items and left the store, my dick had softened up, but the cock rings were still pushing my package up and out. It now felt like I had an orange in my pants. I drove home, stripped naked, and made myself something to eat. Afterwards I took a leak, and afterwards passed a fair amount of seminal fluid. I began to question whether my efforts to inspire wet dreams were in vain, as my body seemed to be redily dispensing of unused fluids. I went upstairs, sat in front of the TV, and soon found myself completely soft. I took that opportunity to slip off the cock rings. Before I went down to brush my teeth I tweaked my nipples again. Within seconds my cock was totally stiff. I figured it wouldn't hurt anything if I stroked it just a couple of times.

That was my fatal mistake. It was the first time in 16 days I'd felt the sensation of a firm grip pumping up and down my stiff shaft. I stopped before it was too late, but within seconds I rationalized that this had gone on long enough. I started pumping again. Within about 15 seconds I began to feel the early stages of an orgasm. I briefly thought that this was a big mistake, that I was throwing away the previous 16 days, but by then it was too late. I kept on pumping until I started coming.

The orgasm I experienced was actually nothing special, but I can't ever remember coming as heavily as I did that night. It indeed felt like two weeks worth of built-up semen was squirting out my cock. If I had counted the spurts I'm sure I would have surpassed my record, but I wanted to enjoy the experience and not worry about counting. I will say, however, that it just kept coming and coming and coming and coming. When all the major spurts were over, I continued to experience three or four more little squirts until my reservoirs were finally, utterly drained. My entire torso was now covered with gobs of come, and it was dribbling down my ribs and getting on the chair I was leaning back in. I sat there for a few minutes, not caring about the mess. When I finally got up it took a number of rags before I'd wiped it all off myself.

That snapped my streak in the 16th day. I intend to do some research to determine if my goal of having a wet dream at my age is actually realistic, but either way this won't be my final forray into the world of celibacy. I found it to be a wonderful experience, and one that I will be repeating many times in the future.

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