Battle never won, but valiantly fought

Watching “6 Male Chastity Secrets Revealed,” which is really only one secret: Chastity is about her.  I get it.  As I come to end of the video my heart is filled with how true that is, and proud to have graduated from those selfish male fantasies.

The fantasies are emerging coincidentally with the effects of the edible I had this morning.  And I fall head-long into how deeply in love with her I am, with who she is, what she likes.  And this energy of love gathers itself in the head of my penis, straining to escape its cage.  And I am feeling this deep sexual love for her and must somehow let her know what I’m going through.  We sit across the table from each other, and I look up from my laptop and wait for her attention.  My penis is willing her to look up.  She does, and I confess, “That deeply-in-love part of the high is hitting me, and I need to show you how much I love you.”

“That’s good,” she says.  “You can make me a chicken salad sandwich.”

Like a splash of water in my face, my penis screams wait!  That can’t be all of it.  It makes me laugh at my penis, my self.  Exactly what I was declaring with pride so vociferously a moment ago is now being put directly to the test.

“What is funny?” she asks.

“In the chicken salad some tomato?” I ask, but without waiting I say, “Listen.  Before I start, would it be OK to rub on your arm for a minute?”  She smiles at me and moves her chair, preparing to shrug off her sweater.  “No that’s OK,” I say, moving in.  And then, for ten seconds I take the opportunity to show her how much I love her through her sweater and shirt, through my pants and underpants and plastic shield;  how much my penis loves her and how grateful for these cushions to help me.

Then I made her the best chicken salad I could and sat down to the keyboard.