It really clears your head and makes you feel better. After a hard workout at the gym, there’s not much better than stripping off my drenched shorts and t-shirt in front of the mirror and admiring my sweating, beautiful body with its muscles and hard lines. Wonderful.
What I like even better than that is masturbating with my penis whilst standing in front of a full length mirror. I’ve tried it with women as well, like what Patrick Bateman does (but without the mutilation and murder and wandering around with a woman’s head on my erect penis). I don’t really like it as much though. It’s hard to concentrate on my chiseled abs and rock hard chest when someone’s coming hard on my dick. It just doesn’t work. It distracts from me, you see.
I don’t look into the mirror to see a woman’s face as she climaxes, or to observe her teeny wittle waist. I want to view myself. I want myself to watch myself. I’m in love and I want no interference. I would collect women and cut them up if it did anything for me. I find it more rewarding to die by myself in front of the mirror and be reborn as my life touches the glass.

Sometimes I like to take a break from myself, you know, just allow myself some space. And there are only so many times you can think of each woman that you know, each woman that you’ve seen during the day. There’s a finite number of disturbing scenarios that you can fantasize about before you’ve had enough. Your imagination can only go so far.

And then that’s where porn comes in! It saves you the effort of fantasizing and imagining, and presents itself to you right there on your screen. Clicking through sites and videos (go bless our ever advancing technology) with one hand whilst the other abuses your genitals (as if you weren’t abusing yourself enough already), you see a lot of messy things. The abuse and degradation of these men and women is a wonderful break from the abuse and degradation of yourself. It at least stops you from abusing your gay little virgin boss (not that you would want to, but there’s only so much that you can take). Watching other victims beign victimised helps you forget about your own victimisation.

And then you ejaculate and you’re shockingly returned to your sordid little life with a sticky hand and a sticky stomach and shame looking out from the tv screen. Which is why your internet browser doesn’t record your browsing history. What’s so shameful about self loathing? All self-respecting Brits and Americans do it.

I was once asked by a friend how to hide what he looked at on the internet from his wife. I downloaded Chrome for him and he loves it.

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