LADIES are different, but men seem to need to crack one out in the most inopportune of locations and/or circumstances. They will never satisfactorily explain why:
At work
Not because you fancy colleagues, indeed you loathe them, but sloping off to the Gents to manhandle the suspect is both a little treat and a skive, like going to the vending machine for a Twix. Other people have fag breaks, so why shouldn’t you be entitled to a masturbatory hiatus? Women? They have that ‘needing to work twice as hard’ thing.
After she’s gone to bed
She’s upstairs watching reality shite on her phone, you’ve crashed around loading the dishwasher for an alibi. Now for a quick scan if there’s any semi-nudity on telly as an amuse-bouche before settling down to phone grot. If you went upstairs you might get sex? Yeah, but why take the chance.
At a friends’ dinner party
Over a delicious chilli beef redang you can’t help but fall, bulging eyes first, into your hostess’s inviting cleavage. This can’t go on. For the sake of the women present you pop off to pacify Percy, relieve the pressure and subsequently be capable of light conversation about various shows on various streaming services. Really, it was a self-sacrificing act.
Any long-distance train journey
It’s four hours to Leeds, your ticket cost as much as a pleasant city hotel room, and you’re bored. Why not with a quick indulgence in the world’s favourite hobby? Make sure you know how the lock button works and schedule a cursory fap on the line just outside Rugby. Oddly, women are put off by it being a train toilet.
When off sick
On the one hand you feel like death, but the other hand is cupped around your balls. The house is empty, the tissues are right there and you already feel disgusting, so your usual post-nut shame will be swallowed up. Best not mention it while grimly recounting how ill you’ve been later, though, or that you spent four hours playing Hollow Knight.
On a plane
Come on. There’s nothing else to do but join the Mile High Club (solo division).
