Junkie 1

Slowly, he woke up from a dream about naked men walking in the wilderness - their dicks hanging and swinging around in a welcoming atmosphere floating somewhere between erotic and nature. He was naked, laying on his sofa, and found his left hand cupping his balls and the base of his cock - half hard and beginning to stretch into hardness.

As he became fully awake, his mind flashed on his dream. It was, first, him walking in some strange city and noticing that all of the men where freeballing in shorts and jeans - with bulges and visible swinging penis lines that appeared so common. The dream progressed to him deciding to go to a nude beach...and, then, on to a jack off party at a wilderness resort created by and for solosexuals.

His dick was hard.

He had fallen asleep after his first jack off session of the day. The hair on his chest and abs were dried with the cum he'd shot. He started to fondle himself, smiling, as he knew he would spend the next couple of hours on his second jack off of the day. Only his second.

All day, he thought. All day.

Since he had been fired from his job, which he'd worked for five years and was let go because of tardiness and too many days taken off, he had been on constant jack off mode. When he got home after being fired, he looked around his apartment. He had not cleaned in a long time. Dishes were stacked in the sink, clothes were scattered around everywhere, he had not vacuumed in a long time; lying in the front of his sofa were two pairs of boxer briefs crusty with his dried cum.

I slipped up, he had thought.

The memory of that day - only two weeks ago - should have made him pause for concern. But he yawned and stretched before sitting up and noticing that his pipe was still half full. He stood up, looking around his living room and feeling his cock swing. His eyes focused on a pair of sweat shorts that he had shot a couple of loads in. He grabbed them and pulled them on, his dong back to semi status. Then he took his pipe and a lighter and went out onto the balcony.

When he settled onto a patio chair, he thought of all the money he had saved - of course, by staying home jerking off - and how he could live as a jack off junkie for a month or two. Like in some of his fantasies where guys thought of nothing but dick and beating off. Yet, he had to think practically. He slipped up back in high school once - his grades went down and his father had a talk with him. But, it was one of his older brothers who helped with his organization of time.

"When you get home from school, I know you really want to beat off but sometimes if you hold back and get your homework and chores done right after school then you can jerk off as much as you want," his brother had said in one of a few encouraging pieces of advice. "And it's fun to think about doing it while you get shit done."

It wasn't easy, but he learned to control himself and pay attention to responsibility. Since then, he would catch himself if he had started to slip up by noticing how much he had ignored domestic chores or how many cum rags he had laying around.

It was sunny, but chilly. He did not feel the desire to go back inside for something warmer. The chill was not overwhelming, only noticeable.

He took a hit off his pipe, held the smoke for a few seconds and exhaled. He repeated this before setting his pipe onto the glass patio table. He reached for his crotch and began to fondle and play his himself over the fabric of the sweat shorts, feeling the dried cum he'd shot a few days ago. The thought turned him on. His semi began to get harder.

He took a cigarette from the pack on the table and lit it. He thought of his predicament, being fired and having to look for a new job. He hated the interview process. It seemed liked bullshit to him, yet he understood it. The company had to make sure they were attaining a worker with not only outstanding ethics but quality focus on doing work. He was a good worker, yet he knew that masturbation was a factor in his being let go from his job.

Again he thought of his dream. He knew that such a world focused on male masturbation existed, he just needed to break out of his shell and explore. He felt content with being by himself but there was an urge to find more guys like him; guys who could not (and maybe did not want to) control their focus on their penises and masturbation. He was obsessed - that being the mild operative word. He had always been, since he was a boy growing up with his father and two older brothers where nudity and comfort with jerking off was just natural. He and his father and brothers never jerked off together, but there was a casual attitude about masturbation. They were loud and noisy when each was in his own room. And it was normal to see his father and brothers emerge from their rooms with their cum still on their chests and abdomens sometimes, their dicks softening on their way to have a shower.

There was no concern of shame nor ridicule. Maybe there was a joke here or there, but it was lightly expressed and taken none too seriously. He had often wondered why people made masturbation such a secretive subject. After such a thought, there was a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach that grew through his body. It was like excitement and pride. He felt proud of being raised in an atmosphere where guys just knew what guys are like. His father once told him that he wanted each of his sons to have their own rooms...that he knew about the privacy a guy needs. It was like another man admitting to the fact that he knew the love a man can have for his penis.

He snuffed the cigarette before taking another hit from the pipe and standing up. He looked over out across the balcony and noticed that a guy stood on the balcony of an apartment across the street. He smirked for a second, that it being obvious that the guy knew he had been playing with himself. And the hanging bulge of his semi-hard cock made it more obvious.

The guy smiled and gave the thumbs-up.

He nodded his head before he walked back into his apartment, closing the sliding glass door and the vertical blinds. He knew that his neighbor knew that he was going to jerk off. Naturally, isn't that what he is going to do after watching?

The thought turned him on. He felt his still semi dick again over the fabric of the sweat shorts. He walked to the back of his apartment - where his bedroom was located - just to feel his dick swing in the shorts. He loved that feeling whether freeballing or naked. In his bedroom, he looked over at his computer. It was in sleep mode. He thought about getting online to look at pictures of naked men and male solo videos. The very thought was intoxicating. But, for the moment, he decided to just have fun with his dick.

He walked back to the living room, playing with his dong along the way. He settled on the sofa, feeling his cock flop to the side. He continued to just fondle himself. He enjoyed just playing with his cock, soft or semi or hard. He often wondered why most men were not some form of solosexual - he could not keep his hands off his dick; it was always there swinging and flopping and pressed against his thigh. He thought back on one day (well, one of many) when he had spent about forty five minutes just playing with himself; feeling himself. Rubbing and cupping and swinging.

He wondered if he was obsessed with the feel of his dick, having a dick or jerking his dick. He was satisfied that the answer, obviously, is all three. Everyday, he was aware of his cock on some level whether sitting or standing - glancing at his lap or feeling his dong against his thigh while walking. His dick was always with him even when he wasn't jerking off. And always being focused on his penis was the gateway to masturbation.

Masturbation...it was more to him than mere pumping on his cock. It was something that made him feel more alive and centered in his masculinity. Sticking his dick into any orifice just did not appeal to him whether it was a pussy or an ass or a mouth. Of course, he had tried partnered sex with both women and men, and the satisfaction he received from each of those encounters - if he did receive any at all - was merely trivial. However, the satisfaction and pleasure he received from jacking off was something he felt could not be put into words completely. He was powerless to even think of indulging in describing what he was actually feeling when he was masturbating; when he was watching another dude masturbate. Yes, he knew it was natural but there was a power he felt that overwhelmed that thought sometimes. It was like he was doing exactly what he should be doing; like the thought and the act and the obsession is an animalistic instinct.

Natural, nasty and beautiful.

He smiled at his thoughts. He knew he nearly had no control over his obsession with dong and jacking off. He knew that he was supposedly lost, yet, in reality, found - obsessed, proud and happy. Life would have to be adjusted so that he could continue to indulge his love for masturbation. He had been in this situation before, he knew what he had to do.

But for the time being, his cock and male masturbation was all he wanted to think about...and loose himself into.