This week, my small private liberal arts college got a visit from a sex therapist.
When my advisor informed me of his upcoming visit, I couldn't hold my excitement. I'm in a place where “open relationship” means sharing a pew, so it's safe to say this visit felt like divine intervention. A sign. A neon “YES!” flashing above my head. Someone in my conservative-leaning campus actually arranged for a sex therapist to speak to students about his line of work. It was like a plot twist straight out of a Netflix original. A sex therapist! Here! At collegiate vacation bible school, it's not crazy to say this was… biblical. Like a burning bush, only it was my bush that was burning with excitement! Anyway, it was hard to contain my curiosities about someone speaking on the line of work that I am actively trying to pursue as a career. Once I finally decided on my major, I gained some clarity on what I actually wanted to do in that field. After a million false starts and enough existential dread to fill a Birkin bag, I’d finally decided on a concentration. I would delve into the delicious, complicated, utterly human world of sexuality. It finally hit me, after years of being undeclarred, not unlike a dick hitting my face while I'm on my knees, looking up, and desperate for more face poundings.
![1743135000807.png]( "1743135000807.png")
He may not be a hookup, but I'm hoping this will be my future mentor, and thus a major part of my life, so I'm giving him a fake blog entry name. When Dr. Bush came to town, I was filled with questions, and he was more than willing to provide. Despite his long journey to get there, he was inspiring, funny, and passionate about his work. Thankfully, he became more than interested in me after I let him know that I wanted to go into a similar line of work. He left our campus the same day he arrived, but not before I got a chance to thank him for his enlightening visit and get his email to keep in contact! I'm not exactly sure what I should say in my email, but he mentioned hiring undergrads at his clinic, so maybe I can start there. Let me just say this entire experience was everything I needed and more.
Since I can't be fulfilled sexually right now, at least I can attempt to fulfill my future aspirations. Yes, it's true. The prophesied dry spell of sexual partners I expected post-spring break has hit me hard and (made me) soft. Unlike Billie's iconic newest album, I was hoping to escape this replay, but I'm stuck in the loop. I would not be surprised if I didn't get any action until the summer, when I can go back home. This will also be when I have more time to travel to other gayer places. As frustrating as this must be to hear from your favorite sexual blogger, just know I am doing everything in my power to get laid.
![1743797851702.png]( "1743797851702.png")
Today at work, my facility was empty. The weather scared everyone away, prompting my bosses to close down the place for the day and send me home. Of course, being me, I couldn't just leave without one last sweep. Duty calls, no entandre intended, even when the skies are crying. So there I was, armed with disinfectant and a slightly dramatic sigh, making my rounds. And then, it happened. The bathroom mirror. You know the one – slightly too bright lighting, but somehow, today, it was… forgiving. Quickly, I realized I had an entire bathroom to myself. The building was officially closed. It was just me. And this surprisingly well-lit bathroom. One button of my shirt came undone. Then another. It wasn't a plan, not exactly. It was more like… an unfolding. The camera kept clicking, capturing moments that felt both fleeting and significant. It was my own private photo shoot, a secret little rebellion against the mundane Monday that wasn't. I had some online friends I knew would get turned on by my impromptu little photoshoot. Once started going at it, I couldn't stop. I wanted to make sure I got every angle of me stroking. One minute I was standing in front of the mirror with my rock hard dick slamming on the counter in a puddle of my pre-cum, the next I was fully naked rubbing it out in front of the lockers with my phone on the ground. Thankfully, my phone was the only one around to bear witness to my bare ass. After an hour of content creation I left the locker area bench with my dick still hard in my hand to finish inside of the bathroom sink, returning to the mirror that started all this trouble. I finished taking new pictures and videos for my grindr album and my sniffies profile. I put on some porn and played it out loud since I had already been moaning much louder than any actor could on my phone. I exploded all over the sink and the mirror and the floor while Ace Himeros filled up his plastic sex doll in a similar fashion. Finally, I could close up for the day and return to my dorm.
![1743797745483.png]( "1743797745483.png")
![1743797792869.png]( "1743797792869.png")
The air in the bathroom felt different, charged with a strange kind of energy. It was just me, my reflection, and the quiet hum of a deserted building. And in that moment, surrounded by the sterile white tiles and empty blue lockers, I felt an arousing sense of… freedom. A secret I held, captured in pixels, a story only the mirror and my phone would ever truly know.
It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What are those quiet moments, those unexpected pockets of time, really for? Maybe they're just for us, a chance to explore the edges of ourselves when no one else is watching. Sorry for the late entry this week, but I hope my story was worth the wait. Storytelling is another aspect of writing I hope to improve on, but this week, my goal was not getting fired for jerking on the job.
This has been Everyone's Obsession.
When my advisor informed me of his upcoming visit, I couldn't hold my excitement. I'm in a place where “open relationship” means sharing a pew, so it's safe to say this visit felt like divine intervention. A sign. A neon “YES!” flashing above my head. Someone in my conservative-leaning campus actually arranged for a sex therapist to speak to students about his line of work. It was like a plot twist straight out of a Netflix original. A sex therapist! Here! At collegiate vacation bible school, it's not crazy to say this was… biblical. Like a burning bush, only it was my bush that was burning with excitement! Anyway, it was hard to contain my curiosities about someone speaking on the line of work that I am actively trying to pursue as a career. Once I finally decided on my major, I gained some clarity on what I actually wanted to do in that field. After a million false starts and enough existential dread to fill a Birkin bag, I’d finally decided on a concentration. I would delve into the delicious, complicated, utterly human world of sexuality. It finally hit me, after years of being undeclarred, not unlike a dick hitting my face while I'm on my knees, looking up, and desperate for more face poundings.
He may not be a hookup, but I'm hoping this will be my future mentor, and thus a major part of my life, so I'm giving him a fake blog entry name. When Dr. Bush came to town, I was filled with questions, and he was more than willing to provide. Despite his long journey to get there, he was inspiring, funny, and passionate about his work. Thankfully, he became more than interested in me after I let him know that I wanted to go into a similar line of work. He left our campus the same day he arrived, but not before I got a chance to thank him for his enlightening visit and get his email to keep in contact! I'm not exactly sure what I should say in my email, but he mentioned hiring undergrads at his clinic, so maybe I can start there. Let me just say this entire experience was everything I needed and more.
Since I can't be fulfilled sexually right now, at least I can attempt to fulfill my future aspirations. Yes, it's true. The prophesied dry spell of sexual partners I expected post-spring break has hit me hard and (made me) soft. Unlike Billie's iconic newest album, I was hoping to escape this replay, but I'm stuck in the loop. I would not be surprised if I didn't get any action until the summer, when I can go back home. This will also be when I have more time to travel to other gayer places. As frustrating as this must be to hear from your favorite sexual blogger, just know I am doing everything in my power to get laid.
Today at work, my facility was empty. The weather scared everyone away, prompting my bosses to close down the place for the day and send me home. Of course, being me, I couldn't just leave without one last sweep. Duty calls, no entandre intended, even when the skies are crying. So there I was, armed with disinfectant and a slightly dramatic sigh, making my rounds. And then, it happened. The bathroom mirror. You know the one – slightly too bright lighting, but somehow, today, it was… forgiving. Quickly, I realized I had an entire bathroom to myself. The building was officially closed. It was just me. And this surprisingly well-lit bathroom. One button of my shirt came undone. Then another. It wasn't a plan, not exactly. It was more like… an unfolding. The camera kept clicking, capturing moments that felt both fleeting and significant. It was my own private photo shoot, a secret little rebellion against the mundane Monday that wasn't. I had some online friends I knew would get turned on by my impromptu little photoshoot. Once started going at it, I couldn't stop. I wanted to make sure I got every angle of me stroking. One minute I was standing in front of the mirror with my rock hard dick slamming on the counter in a puddle of my pre-cum, the next I was fully naked rubbing it out in front of the lockers with my phone on the ground. Thankfully, my phone was the only one around to bear witness to my bare ass. After an hour of content creation I left the locker area bench with my dick still hard in my hand to finish inside of the bathroom sink, returning to the mirror that started all this trouble. I finished taking new pictures and videos for my grindr album and my sniffies profile. I put on some porn and played it out loud since I had already been moaning much louder than any actor could on my phone. I exploded all over the sink and the mirror and the floor while Ace Himeros filled up his plastic sex doll in a similar fashion. Finally, I could close up for the day and return to my dorm.
The air in the bathroom felt different, charged with a strange kind of energy. It was just me, my reflection, and the quiet hum of a deserted building. And in that moment, surrounded by the sterile white tiles and empty blue lockers, I felt an arousing sense of… freedom. A secret I held, captured in pixels, a story only the mirror and my phone would ever truly know.
It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What are those quiet moments, those unexpected pockets of time, really for? Maybe they're just for us, a chance to explore the edges of ourselves when no one else is watching. Sorry for the late entry this week, but I hope my story was worth the wait. Storytelling is another aspect of writing I hope to improve on, but this week, my goal was not getting fired for jerking on the job.
This has been Everyone's Obsession.
