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Topics - KidQuick

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Ages 40 and up / KidQuick's Journal (46 year old married male)
« on: January 10, 2015, 05:15:38 PM »
The room looked like a plain classroom without the chalkboard or alphabet letters on the wall. Nevertheless, it was still filled with people. One of those people stood up.

This person was dressed different than the others. The others were dressed somewhat normal, but this one person was definitely dressed differently. He wore a skintight white body-stocking, blue briefs on the outside of the body-stocking and a bright red cape. Weak lightning bolts shooting from his groin had been printed on his outfit and surrounding those bolts were action words like, "Pffffft" and "Fizzle" and "Noooo." and "Wah Wah Wah." The last was surrounded by music notes.

"I am Captain Crotch Noodle," the strange caped man said, "And I am addicted to internet porn."

"Hello, Captain Crotch Noodle," the others said as if they had rehearsed it too many times.

Captain Crotch Noodle started to sit down, but he was stopped.

A faceless person from the room called out. "Tell us why you are here." The room stirred a little. It was not the way of these people to talk back to the person standing, even if the person standing was actually were more stooping to sit back down.

Captain Crotch Noodle stood back up and assumed a superhero pose. His fists were on his hips, his feet were spread apart and his chest was barreled out. He turned his head to the side as if he were looking for something in the distance. His cape looked like it should have been blowing out behind him, but it did not. It hung limply from his shoulders, much like the muscle hung from between his legs. "I will tell you my story. But first, I must tell you my origin."


It's Day 12 and I have decided to try this journaling thing. I'm, simply put, flat-lining. It's not hard. It's just depressing. I know there have been many discussions about why it is so hard. For me, it's the feeling of not making progress, moving from day to day with the same dead feeling and wanting so bad to feel something, anything, just to let me know I am actually making some sort of progress through this ordeal. The flat-line phase, however, feels like the exact opposite of progress. I say "feels" because I can only hope at this point, that it is something totally different.
That's why I starting thinking about a superhero called Captain Crotch Noodle!

I have been at this for some time, much longer than 12 days. This just Day 12 from the last time I masturbated. I have been at this for a few months now. The first month I edged too much. I didn't realize how bad that was until I read about it. The next two months, I masturbated once each. I'll probably write more about those later.

But first about my background, how I got here.

I am a 46 year old man. I have been married for 9 years now to the most perfect woman in the world (for me anyway), and we lived together for about ten years before we got married. I have always had trouble making love to her. It wasn’t for lack of desire. It was for lack of an erection. And I lived in denial about it for a long long time.

I didn't have trouble with just my wife. I had trouble with everyone I had ever been with romantically. I haven't been with a lot of women, but I wasn’t able to successfully consummate a relationship, not really. There were a couple with whom I was able to have intercourse, but those experiences were very very mechanical. There wasn’t really any connection, any satisfaction. And never with a condom, so there was always that concern.

When I was younger, in my teenage years, my parents were ministers, which basically meant I lived like a military kid. I had to move every couple years. I didn’t really live anywhere long enough to develop close friends or that kind of bonding. Needless to say, I wasn't really a ladies man. I was nervous, awkward and about as insecure and a young kid with an erection could be.

I didn’t really have a male role model. My parents divorced when I was in fifth grade, and I lived with my mother and two sisters. The marriage had been so bad and so volatile, that I honestly think my mom hated men for a while. I don’t think she hated me, she never acted like that, but I can't help but wonder if some of those spoiled opinions spilled over into her parenting somehow. Maybe not. Like I said, I never noticed it if it did.

I only mentioned that to explain that I was never very good socially. I had friends, but like me, they weren't very good socially either. They were always outcasts, loners. And what's a loner to do to get a little loving? All he has to do is put his hand in his pocket and hope he has another pair of undies, because the pair he has on is about to get ruined. Oh yeah!

Needless to say, all that happened some time ago before the internet became what it is today. When I discovered Playboy, I voraciously got every copy I could find. And I used them over and over. I found a used bookstore that would sell me old copies and I basically bought them out.

I also rented movies and watched them.  I did it VCR-style! How many young kids can say that these days?

I think I probably masturbated maybe three times a day. I remember masturbating so much, I had rubbed sores on my shaft. And I kept on going. I simply couldn't stop. It wasn't just a release for me. It was an escape. 

That last part, I know now as I write this, is the first step into an addiction.

That's enough for now. I'll continue more later.

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