Introduction
I have read plenty of stories of other Fapstronauts and mine is not all that different than most, but very different in other ways. When I joined this network this morning, my goal was initially to educated myself as much as possible and the more and more I have read the more overwhelmed I think I have become, but still optimistic at the same time. I’m also no longer sure exactly what my goal will be, but I’ll probably work that out as I type my story. Any and all encouragement and feedback would be greatly appreciated as I tell my story today and in the upcoming days, weeks and months and possibly even years. I have a long story to tell as much of what I write today has never been told to anyone else, except in very small parts. Part of me telling this story is for my own therapy. I hope others read it, relate or reply, but if no one does, this is still a bit of self-therapy and the start of my own documentation for self-accountability.
The Beginning
My story starts back when I was 13 or so. At that time I figured out that I wasn’t just interested in girls, but I was also interested in boys. I started masturbating when I was 14. I didn’t need porn to M at that age. Porn was not readily accessible back then but when I found my older brother’s magazine stash it took things to a whole new level. I would masturbate at least once a day, sometimes PMO and sometimes MO. I had a teenage girlfriend when I was 15. At the same time I would also peek when I was in the high school locker room at my male classmates. I didn’t know if it was sexual curiosity, or if I was actually gay or bisexual. I knew that I had a lot of sexual feelings going on that others didn’t talk about. A “girlfriend” at that time was just hanging out and holding hands and kissing. That stuff would excite me sexually but we also didn’t do anything sexually then.
The S Word
I was a virgin until I was 17. Like most teenage sex it was often quick and pressurized intense so as to not get caught as I was either hiding at someone’s home or was out in public in a car or somewhere easily caught. Never did I have performance anxiety. That’s the luxury of being young and dumb I guess. The first time I was with a girl, more intimately, was when I was in college. That was different all together because it was no longer about a quick pleasure but instead, what I call, getting to know you sex. Sex in which you are looking to know the ins and outs of the other person’s sexual needs and desires and help fulfill them. To me it all became less of a selfish kind of sex or pleasure and more of a team effort or even selfless pleasure. Fulfilling her needs and desires was my new objective, well over trying to fulfill my own desires. That gave me such a crazy high that I craved it more than anything in my past, to that point.
College Years
After breaking up with a college girlfriend all hell broke loose. The college experience overtook me from every possible angle. First I went on a year long binge of as much sex as I could have with any and every girl possible. Out in public, in cars, at her place, my place and anywhere we desired. Everything became very selfish again. I didn’t care much about her needs. It was all about getting my O. If she was pleased at the same time that was just her luck at that moment and I didn’t care. The high I was getting at the time was my own O and nothing else. Most of the girls I never kept in touch with but for a few hours. They were almost all a one-night-stand. At that same time I binged at PMO. Between girls and PMO I think I was O-ing at least a dozen times a week. At that point I still had absolutely no ED issues. I then met a guy that was gay and remembered that I was single and attracted to guys and away at college. I took that opportunity to experiment with the male attracted side of me. Again, absolutely no performance anxiety or ED issues at all. Don’t get me wrong, I was crazy nervous just as I was when I was first losing my virginity to a girl, but nothing that wasn’t easily overcome. I don’t think I was very good at the gay mechanics of sex but it was still very desirable. It became a pretty intimate relationship with the guy. I once again worked hard to help his needs more than my own. That became my new high or addiction. He was gay and closeted and I was bi and closeted. Despite that we pushed the envelope enough that I think some around us realized we were more than friends but never mentioned anything. I didn’t mind that, not because I was ready to expose my bisexuality, but because it was sort of an extra high to me on top of the already addiction of selfless pleasure. That same high translated right into another addiction of gay PMO. Watching something different gave a new heightened sense of visual pleasure. Throughout the rest of college it was girls, guys, PMO and gay PMO. At the peak I probably O-ed, in one way or another, 15 times a week.
PMO Takes Over My Life
College ended and I moved back to my hometown. The stockpile of good looking people diminished and so did my desire to seek it out. I’m not sure why but sexual life only turned to PMO and gay PMO. Part of it likely was that I lived alone for the first time and porn was easily accessible, fast to download and no one was around to interrupt. I began to average 10 times per week. I was definitely in a weird depressive funk at the same time.
Something Isn’t Right
I would randomly hookup with a girl or guy, that I’d meet online. Hindsight now shows me that around this time is when I started to have some PMO ED related issues. Most of the time everything was all good but now and then I’d have an issue and I chalked it up to being tired, being stressed, nervous that it was someone new or anything else. I didn’t know about ED and sure never knew any negative effects of PMO. I did this until I was about 26.
What Am I?
Then thoughts in my head turned to wonder if part of my issues were about being attracted to men more than women. Oh boy, that thought really messed with my head. Not that I didn’t want to be gay, but if I was that was a whole different pressure in life that would add to my isolation, depression and ED. All that combined was overwhelming. It put me into a bad depression, because that side of me was closeted. I would hookup with some guys I met online and only gay PMO for a couple years and isolated myself from friends as I was worried they would judge me. There were a lot of moving parts going on all at once and the most important part of it all (PMO) was something I was completely ignorant to (again, that is all hindsight).
A Unexpected Angel, I Thought
I moved to a new apartment complex and had 2 dogs at the time. I found that work was not allowing me enough time with my dogs so I decided to find a dog walker. That idea worked out well for my dogs. At some point I thought it ended up good for my sexual life too. After a couple weeks, almost out of nowhere, we hit it off. She was a great person and everything about her hid any of my ED issues when we hooked up. Within weeks of meeting her I went from thinking I was definitely gay to damn I absolutely love woman again and have no ED issues. That celebration was kind of short lived as the honeymoon effect and the “babysitter” type fantasy kind of waned away after a few weeks. My ED hit overdrive and our odd relationship didn’t last much longer. My ED had her thinking that I was playing her and getting with other women and wearing my sexual ability thin by the time I met up with her. She thought she was just my side piece. The fact was I truly was working a lot and truly needed her as a dog sitter and the sexual part of our relationship was just a craving that I had.
Is This My End?
That short lived, 4 month or so, relationship wasn’t the angel I needed, but instead almost ended me. The timing of it wasn’t the exact good timing I thought it was, the end result was actually the exact worst time. At about the same time that the dog sitter relationship was happening, I started having some odd feelings for my very good looking best friend. I had met my best friend about 2 or 3 years earlier. I was in my mass gay PMO stage, at the time, in which I had basically isolated myself from most everyone. I had an extremely small group of friends and most of the time when they asked me out to do something I declined their offer. My group of friends, including my best friend, never gave up on me and knew something wasn’t right but gave me my space. I always knew my best friend was really good looking. Don’t get me wrong, I checked him out quite often, but never had any thoughts or urges. Fast forward our friendship back to the dog sitter era... my ED with the dog sitter disappeared because of the high elevation of fantasy that was being played out. It got me out of my depression and hanging with my friends more. Hanging out with my friends more and my ED hidden, I then caught a whiff of visual feelings for my best friend. That wasn’t something I ever wanted and it was something I definitely kept to myself. When the baby sitter era ended I became Level 9 depressed. I started drinking off the charts, and I did my best to quietly and indirectly reach out to my friends to hang with them as much as I possibly could as I knew I was doing bad. I needed that non-PMO attraction. That attraction became pointed at my best friend. Spending time with him, peaking glimpses of him and even getting drunk enough to have him drive me home and drag me to my bed were all types of things I did to fulfill my PMO addiction that I was about to fall back into, but tried to keep it in real life as my dog sitter unknowingly recently fulfilled. Everything started to fall apart one day at work. I broke down crying for no reason. Well, I knew the reason. It was everything I was hiding and my insecurity of who I was, what my sexuality was and how I’ve dragged my best friend into my webbed mess. I had to spill the beans. I should have went to a therapist, but instead I texted my friend. I had to tell him. Of course I didn’t tell him everything, I told him enough to make me feel good. I told him that I was some how attracted to him and that it was depressing me. He told me he was obviously not attracted to me and I told him I was glad he wasn’t. I truly meant that because I valued him as a friend more that my dumb urge. I told him that I had experimented by looking at some gay porn because I was beginning to wonder if I was gay or not. That was obviously a 1/2 truth as you now know. I don’t think our friendship changed but it was still definitely a secret that I was nervous would change things or become public knowledge. One drunken night, months later, I fully broke down. I walked to a nearby forest preserve and started to text my best friend. I started to text him that my depression had been getting worse and worse and that I think I’m giving up. I sat against the park restroom building for what was about 30 minutes. It started to rain, and despite it being summer, it got darn cold and I started shivering. My best friend stopped texting and instead called me. He knew something was worse than he first thought. I didn’t have an exact plan of what I was going to do but my brain knew I wasn’t leaving that forest preserve. I had hit my lowest low. I had many issues, such as not being comfortable in my own body anymore, my father passing away when I was 17 and other basic depressive things, but at the moment, the crux of the issue wasn’t known to me until a few days ago, present time. Anyways, my best friend called the police, as he was scared, he met me and then the police came and took me into an ambulance and off to a behavioral therapy center. Boy, that didn’t help because I just lied my way into what they wanted to hear so that I could get back to work and life. As I had not attempted anything, they released me in about 72 hours.
Start of Post Depression Game Plan
After coming out of the institute I worked my butt of to get to the bottom of my sexual issues and self identity. My new approach was to have as much sex as I could and focus on women only and I would overcome my issues. Well, what a dumb bomb of an idea that was. It started with a new receptionist that started at my office. She was younger than me and innocent and not the brightest. She caught wind of where my night job was (a bar) and she showed up one night, unannounced with her friend. I had forgotten how it felt to be wanted. I think I’m like 34 at the time, but I still consider myself young and healthy. Everyone loves to be wanted. Her attraction to me set off the next fumble in my overcoming ED because once again it turned into a fantasy type situation. We started sexting a few nights a week. We swapped pictures and I had a brand new form of PMO that sent my senses racing between visual and written. I was so happy and proud of myself because I thought I had overcome my worry of possibly being gay. I mention again, it’s not that being gay is a problem, it’s just something I wasn’t ready to overcome at the time if I was. The whole relationship escalated to another level over a weekend when my friend and I had a 2000 mile round-trip road trip for the sport we played. The entire weekend, any downtime at the hotel, was crazy sexting time for me. My hormones were off the chart. I didn’t want to ruin anything and MO, so I held it in. I told her we’d meet up when I got back. We did just that and it was a dumpster fire on my part. First I was crazy nervous because it was someone I worked with and I didn’t want word getting out, especially if I wasn’t good and secondly because you can’t have a workplace relationship. It had also been a number of years since I was with a woman. I was literally pumped all day in anticipation. I knew no MO was a great idea and that I’d be as awesome as I’d been years ago in my college escapade years. Whoops, was I wrong. The only thing I accomplished was her O. That’s the only thing I accomplished. Only a minute or two in I knew that was the new game plan. Performance anxiety was at a peak. I told her it was nerves and that I’d take care of her. I wasn’t going to make this a selfish deal, I needed to be the selfless me because I remember the times when my sex life was at my happiest was when I was the most selfless and successful. The night ended and the the weirdness continued with her for 2 more years of working alongside of her. I was a real turd when it came with being honest to her. I told her we’d connect again some day over and over by text, when she asked, and we never did. I just kept avoiding it. I always knew I would never get back together. I avoided it because I knew I couldn’t perform, I avoided it because I knew I would fail and that I’d embarrass myself more. I moved on from that in my head long before she left the company because I just blocked it out and moved on in my head.
Back To Full PMO
The last couple of days I’ve read about being desensitized. Wow, so I realize that now. I’ve had zero attraction to women and generally guys for about 3 years now. PMO, PMO, PMO. I’d moved on from the thought of sex. My depression slowly disappeared when I had come to that realization. Again, I never took any of the non-sex future as an age issue. I took it as if it wasn’t for me anymore. It had run its course for whatever reason. PMO fulfilled everything I ever needed. I thought that no one could satisfy me better than myself. PMO, gay PMO, and reading articles. When straight porn no longer did it, I’d watch gay porn. When that no longer did it I went back to straight porn with stronger stories and then back to gay porn with better stories or stronger content That crazy cycle has lasted until now. Age 39.
The Start of Something Unexpected
Two sections ago was the start of post depression. That really is true. I worked to realize I was depressed and focused on fixing that. In the last couple years I’ve really worked toward bettering myself, having positive thoughts, being a more positive person, beginning to love myself, except me for me, become a better person toward others, expand my horizons, come out of my social shell and most of all help others. In my depressive time I was as low as 142 lbs (5’10”). That’s crazy skinny for me. I then started feeling better about myself and overdid it and got to about 194 lbs from what may be called as happy/comfortable eating. I no longer felt myself as attractive so I changed my diet and portion sizing and got to 175 lbs in about 6 months. About this time is when my life started to change for the good (March 2019). Once again I met someone at work, different department. This time a good looking 26 year old African American man (let’s call him DT for ease of story). Here’s how crazy life is. Everything I tell you from this point on has happened in about the last 10 weeks and had gotten me to this site to tell the entirety of my story.
DT was a driver for my company and he got into an automobile accident. I was instructed to talk with him, find out what happened and write him up. DT, myself and a coworker sat in an office and talked about what happened and what he should do to prevent this in the future. My coworker had asked DT if he took pictures of the damaged other car and he said yes. Mind you, DT was extremely nervous this whole time because he thought he might be fired. When he went to show me the pictures of the damage he scrolled right past a set of thumbnail pictures of a large black penis. He went fast and didn’t realize that I saw them. My senses went off the chart. My focus was gone from DT’s accident and was solely on what I seen on his phone. After a bit more discussion, our coworker left the office and I was left with DT alone to finish the write up and to print out the accident’s pictures. The entire rest of the time my arousal was through the roof. He had no idea I had seen the pictures. Earlier he had told me he wanted to be careful showing his phone because he had some NSFW pictures on there. Anyways, we finished with the work formalities and the write up and discussion. I think I discussed with him some life lessons just to help stay in the office with him longer and longer. Basically a creeper. I went home and about an hour later I texted him and said I’d like to apologize for what happened today. It was a decision I had battled with internally the entire ride home because of the morals and ethics of it and the invasion of privacy of sorts and then also any possibility of exposing myself in any form. I had built myself up in recent months to live a freer life than I had built myself in the past. To let myself loose and more open and become more social. Allow myself to get into uncomfortable situations. The decision I made wasn’t without shaking in my own body nerves but I chose to do it, rightly or wrongly. I have to minimize part of the story but this is what happened from 7pm until about 2am. DT replies back and asked what I was apologizing for. He thought he had done wrong by getting into an accident and deserved the write up and discussion. I told him I had seen some pictures while he was scrolling that I shouldn’t have. He asked me what I saw. I beat around the bush a bit and then told him a few pictures of a black penis. He immediately said that he was sorry that I had to see it and was happy I hadn’t seen anything else but his blessed self. Well that answered the question in the back of my head of whether that was his, which was interesting, or a “friend” of his. I then told him it took guts for him to scroll his phone within my site just to show accident pictures. He replied back with it took guts for me to text him to apologize to him for something I could have kept to myself. We were both right. I asked him why he would have pictures like that. He said to send to people that he wants to. I asked him if he’s a player and why he said people instead of women. He told me he was an open-minded person and that he had a girlfriend but in an open relationship sort of. Well, he really said that she knows and typically is there if anything happens with a guy. Basically sexting PMO happened for the next few hours. That was something I completely regretted the next day for all the reasons already mentioned above and all you could ever think of. I admit to this day that it was awesome and at the same time it’s the true beginning of the reason I’m typing this story on this forum to help fix myself going forward.
We kept in touch a little in passing and over text but nothing big or worth mentioning. We were both being really careful not to be connected or get too caught up again. What it did for me though was it rejuvenated my desire for real life sex. I started looking at him and other people (men and women) and thinking about things. It was a positive. I started to build a drive again. My libido definitely picked back up in relation to real life thoughts, not porn related. I started manscaping, buying new clothes and shoes, shaving more often, eating even better than I had already started and started working out. My purpose wasn’t necessarily to get with DT, although that was definitely a back of my head goal. My goal was to better myself even more since I just had a weird boost of self confidence. I started to prepare myself for a real life experience that I didn’t necessarily think would happen soon, but to start preparing myself for it just in case. I’d started to think about dating sites, seeking out a girl at a bar or an event or who knows what else. Maybe it was sort of a vicarious living through DT as I remember being a player like him at a younger age. I felt kind of on cloud nine. I felt like a set of events lined up the stars for something bizarrely cool to have happened so I wanted to springboard off of that.
Fast forward to 3 weeks ago. DT got into another accident. My stomach dropped when I found out. I knew they were going to fire him and there was nothing I could do about it. For safety, company policy is to have two people on hand for a firing. It took DT a while to return from the job site. It ended up being after hours. His manager fired him. I tried catching him out in the parking lot to ask him if he needed a ride, as he usually Ubered home. He said no and turned his head away from me. I wasn’t worried about him exposing me. I actually 100% gave a crap about him as a person. I had got to learn just enough about him in a short time that I thought he was a good guy that just made a couple mistakes. I assumed that he wasn’t well off monetarily either. I texted him for days. I emailed him. I called him. I found him on FB and reached out. He ignored me every time and blocked me on FB and I assumed blocked my texts and calls as well. I was crushed. I wanted to help and I couldn’t. I felt guilty. I felt maybe I could have helped in some way more, before his second accident. I wasn’t depressed because I knew I was doing the right thing. I was actually becoming very worried about him as just a human being. I did my best to reach out and send words of encouragement and give as much advice as I could and offer my help as much as I could. I then needed to change my focus back to my own health as I knew there was a chance I’d fall into depression, after much longer, because that’s how I am. From the first day we sat down to discuss his first accident until this point in the story I had PMO maybe 3 times only. That’s across 6 weeks I believe. I could tell I was in a good place. I then started working out harder than I ever had, just at home on the treadmill and typical pushups, sit-ups and whatever you can do without equipment. I was keeping my mind busy instead of worrying too much about something I couldn’t do much about.
2 weeks pass by and DT finally texts back. He thanked me for the kind words, encouragement and caring for his well being. He told me he didn’t want to say anything he would regret. I always had a feeling that’s what it was but it was good to hear him say that. Again, my confidence went up. He still needed to collect his final check but didn’t want to come to the office. He also asked if I could help him find a job as I described that I could probably help with. He asked if I wanted to meet up this past Monday. I told him I’d take him to eat and we’d talk about a game plan to help him. So, we go out and have a great talk. I learned more about him and discussed a game plan for himself and for how I could help with any of my knowledge and contacts. Since he always Ubered, I of course picked him up and had to drive him back home. I have to leave parts of this out, but on the way to dropping him off he asked if I remembered the other things we discussed the first time we texted and of course I said I hadn’t forgotten. Well, in the passenger seat he pulled out his penis and said that he wanted to end the nerves we had on that subject. Of course I absorbed all of that sense of his confidence and was instantly excited. I apologize, but I have to tell you just enough of the story for the end result. So, once again I’m with someone that I’m crazy excited about and no ED issues at the exact moment. I give him a little sexual help while I’m driving and then we pull over and I start oral on him while I’m fully erect. Almost the exact instant he asked to give me oral I lost my erection. My mind just freakin melted. Not happening again!!! WHY!?!? How was this possible. It was a freakin dream scenario with a great looking guy that was totally into me. I looked over and there was a person in a car near ours and I told him that we needed to move elsewhere and that I was nervous and apologized. I told him we weren’t through though and my brain reminded me that I used to be a person that loved selfless sex more than anything. That’s what I focused on and I gave him an O before we were done. It still put me on cloud nine. I still had most of my confidence and I was ready to fix my issue. We bumped fists, laughed and smiled a bit and then I finished dropping him off and said we’d be in touch.
One More PMO
That happened this past Monday. The instant I woke up Tuesday I went to one of those websites you see online that allow for discreet consultation for ED and possible prescription for medicine. I was done hiding about my issue. I needed to do something. I filled out the profile and questionnaire and they replied back with more questions. My gut said I didn’t need the blue pills, but I thought I needed a different pill for performance anxiety as I kept having an erection right up until the time I brought out my little friend. Tuesday and Wednesday were a back and forth conversation with the doctor on his questions to make sure I didn’t have an underlying heart issue. Wednesday came around and I was on day 5 of no PMO, because I was in a good place. At that exact time I didn’t know the term PMO. It was just a way of life for me. PMO was high in bad times and low in good times. Wednesday I wanted to PMO not because I was in a bad place but because I was celebrating Monday, despite failure, celebrate me reaching out to solve the problem, and damn it all made me horny. I started the duty and I started to have a crazy amount of confidence of what I was doing and I text DT late at night and asked him if he wanted to see something. He didn’t reply, so I didn’t send. I finished my PMO and then a strong sense of guilt clouded over me, like I’d never had. I don’t know why I did what I just did. I didn’t understand the reasoning of starting PMO anymore because it seemed dumb after completion. I didn’t understand why I felt it important to ask DT if he wanted to see. I knew he had a girlfriend and that he was more interested in woman and I was just a quickie side thing. That didn’t sadden me. That didn’t depress me. It actually drove me. DT and I had talked that I wanted to be friends first and foremost. Put aside the morals, or lack there of, that we did what we did despite him being in a relationship. Maybe some day we’ll do it again, time will tell. That’s for a different conversation and guilt trip that some of you might throw my way and I will accept it. This is the way I look at it. DT, without knowing it, helped remind me how much I love being with women, he reminded me of how much effort I’ve started to put towards finding a fix to my issue and believe it or not how young I actually feel. I’ve never felt like I was getting older, but at 39 I’ve never felt younger and younger and the situation and events with DT have sparked that more.
I ran out of allowed character count so my story continues below within the thread...if I do this right.
I have read plenty of stories of other Fapstronauts and mine is not all that different than most, but very different in other ways. When I joined this network this morning, my goal was initially to educated myself as much as possible and the more and more I have read the more overwhelmed I think I have become, but still optimistic at the same time. I’m also no longer sure exactly what my goal will be, but I’ll probably work that out as I type my story. Any and all encouragement and feedback would be greatly appreciated as I tell my story today and in the upcoming days, weeks and months and possibly even years. I have a long story to tell as much of what I write today has never been told to anyone else, except in very small parts. Part of me telling this story is for my own therapy. I hope others read it, relate or reply, but if no one does, this is still a bit of self-therapy and the start of my own documentation for self-accountability.
The Beginning
My story starts back when I was 13 or so. At that time I figured out that I wasn’t just interested in girls, but I was also interested in boys. I started masturbating when I was 14. I didn’t need porn to M at that age. Porn was not readily accessible back then but when I found my older brother’s magazine stash it took things to a whole new level. I would masturbate at least once a day, sometimes PMO and sometimes MO. I had a teenage girlfriend when I was 15. At the same time I would also peek when I was in the high school locker room at my male classmates. I didn’t know if it was sexual curiosity, or if I was actually gay or bisexual. I knew that I had a lot of sexual feelings going on that others didn’t talk about. A “girlfriend” at that time was just hanging out and holding hands and kissing. That stuff would excite me sexually but we also didn’t do anything sexually then.
The S Word
I was a virgin until I was 17. Like most teenage sex it was often quick and pressurized intense so as to not get caught as I was either hiding at someone’s home or was out in public in a car or somewhere easily caught. Never did I have performance anxiety. That’s the luxury of being young and dumb I guess. The first time I was with a girl, more intimately, was when I was in college. That was different all together because it was no longer about a quick pleasure but instead, what I call, getting to know you sex. Sex in which you are looking to know the ins and outs of the other person’s sexual needs and desires and help fulfill them. To me it all became less of a selfish kind of sex or pleasure and more of a team effort or even selfless pleasure. Fulfilling her needs and desires was my new objective, well over trying to fulfill my own desires. That gave me such a crazy high that I craved it more than anything in my past, to that point.
College Years
After breaking up with a college girlfriend all hell broke loose. The college experience overtook me from every possible angle. First I went on a year long binge of as much sex as I could have with any and every girl possible. Out in public, in cars, at her place, my place and anywhere we desired. Everything became very selfish again. I didn’t care much about her needs. It was all about getting my O. If she was pleased at the same time that was just her luck at that moment and I didn’t care. The high I was getting at the time was my own O and nothing else. Most of the girls I never kept in touch with but for a few hours. They were almost all a one-night-stand. At that same time I binged at PMO. Between girls and PMO I think I was O-ing at least a dozen times a week. At that point I still had absolutely no ED issues. I then met a guy that was gay and remembered that I was single and attracted to guys and away at college. I took that opportunity to experiment with the male attracted side of me. Again, absolutely no performance anxiety or ED issues at all. Don’t get me wrong, I was crazy nervous just as I was when I was first losing my virginity to a girl, but nothing that wasn’t easily overcome. I don’t think I was very good at the gay mechanics of sex but it was still very desirable. It became a pretty intimate relationship with the guy. I once again worked hard to help his needs more than my own. That became my new high or addiction. He was gay and closeted and I was bi and closeted. Despite that we pushed the envelope enough that I think some around us realized we were more than friends but never mentioned anything. I didn’t mind that, not because I was ready to expose my bisexuality, but because it was sort of an extra high to me on top of the already addiction of selfless pleasure. That same high translated right into another addiction of gay PMO. Watching something different gave a new heightened sense of visual pleasure. Throughout the rest of college it was girls, guys, PMO and gay PMO. At the peak I probably O-ed, in one way or another, 15 times a week.
PMO Takes Over My Life
College ended and I moved back to my hometown. The stockpile of good looking people diminished and so did my desire to seek it out. I’m not sure why but sexual life only turned to PMO and gay PMO. Part of it likely was that I lived alone for the first time and porn was easily accessible, fast to download and no one was around to interrupt. I began to average 10 times per week. I was definitely in a weird depressive funk at the same time.
Something Isn’t Right
I would randomly hookup with a girl or guy, that I’d meet online. Hindsight now shows me that around this time is when I started to have some PMO ED related issues. Most of the time everything was all good but now and then I’d have an issue and I chalked it up to being tired, being stressed, nervous that it was someone new or anything else. I didn’t know about ED and sure never knew any negative effects of PMO. I did this until I was about 26.
What Am I?
Then thoughts in my head turned to wonder if part of my issues were about being attracted to men more than women. Oh boy, that thought really messed with my head. Not that I didn’t want to be gay, but if I was that was a whole different pressure in life that would add to my isolation, depression and ED. All that combined was overwhelming. It put me into a bad depression, because that side of me was closeted. I would hookup with some guys I met online and only gay PMO for a couple years and isolated myself from friends as I was worried they would judge me. There were a lot of moving parts going on all at once and the most important part of it all (PMO) was something I was completely ignorant to (again, that is all hindsight).
A Unexpected Angel, I Thought
I moved to a new apartment complex and had 2 dogs at the time. I found that work was not allowing me enough time with my dogs so I decided to find a dog walker. That idea worked out well for my dogs. At some point I thought it ended up good for my sexual life too. After a couple weeks, almost out of nowhere, we hit it off. She was a great person and everything about her hid any of my ED issues when we hooked up. Within weeks of meeting her I went from thinking I was definitely gay to damn I absolutely love woman again and have no ED issues. That celebration was kind of short lived as the honeymoon effect and the “babysitter” type fantasy kind of waned away after a few weeks. My ED hit overdrive and our odd relationship didn’t last much longer. My ED had her thinking that I was playing her and getting with other women and wearing my sexual ability thin by the time I met up with her. She thought she was just my side piece. The fact was I truly was working a lot and truly needed her as a dog sitter and the sexual part of our relationship was just a craving that I had.
Is This My End?
That short lived, 4 month or so, relationship wasn’t the angel I needed, but instead almost ended me. The timing of it wasn’t the exact good timing I thought it was, the end result was actually the exact worst time. At about the same time that the dog sitter relationship was happening, I started having some odd feelings for my very good looking best friend. I had met my best friend about 2 or 3 years earlier. I was in my mass gay PMO stage, at the time, in which I had basically isolated myself from most everyone. I had an extremely small group of friends and most of the time when they asked me out to do something I declined their offer. My group of friends, including my best friend, never gave up on me and knew something wasn’t right but gave me my space. I always knew my best friend was really good looking. Don’t get me wrong, I checked him out quite often, but never had any thoughts or urges. Fast forward our friendship back to the dog sitter era... my ED with the dog sitter disappeared because of the high elevation of fantasy that was being played out. It got me out of my depression and hanging with my friends more. Hanging out with my friends more and my ED hidden, I then caught a whiff of visual feelings for my best friend. That wasn’t something I ever wanted and it was something I definitely kept to myself. When the baby sitter era ended I became Level 9 depressed. I started drinking off the charts, and I did my best to quietly and indirectly reach out to my friends to hang with them as much as I possibly could as I knew I was doing bad. I needed that non-PMO attraction. That attraction became pointed at my best friend. Spending time with him, peaking glimpses of him and even getting drunk enough to have him drive me home and drag me to my bed were all types of things I did to fulfill my PMO addiction that I was about to fall back into, but tried to keep it in real life as my dog sitter unknowingly recently fulfilled. Everything started to fall apart one day at work. I broke down crying for no reason. Well, I knew the reason. It was everything I was hiding and my insecurity of who I was, what my sexuality was and how I’ve dragged my best friend into my webbed mess. I had to spill the beans. I should have went to a therapist, but instead I texted my friend. I had to tell him. Of course I didn’t tell him everything, I told him enough to make me feel good. I told him that I was some how attracted to him and that it was depressing me. He told me he was obviously not attracted to me and I told him I was glad he wasn’t. I truly meant that because I valued him as a friend more that my dumb urge. I told him that I had experimented by looking at some gay porn because I was beginning to wonder if I was gay or not. That was obviously a 1/2 truth as you now know. I don’t think our friendship changed but it was still definitely a secret that I was nervous would change things or become public knowledge. One drunken night, months later, I fully broke down. I walked to a nearby forest preserve and started to text my best friend. I started to text him that my depression had been getting worse and worse and that I think I’m giving up. I sat against the park restroom building for what was about 30 minutes. It started to rain, and despite it being summer, it got darn cold and I started shivering. My best friend stopped texting and instead called me. He knew something was worse than he first thought. I didn’t have an exact plan of what I was going to do but my brain knew I wasn’t leaving that forest preserve. I had hit my lowest low. I had many issues, such as not being comfortable in my own body anymore, my father passing away when I was 17 and other basic depressive things, but at the moment, the crux of the issue wasn’t known to me until a few days ago, present time. Anyways, my best friend called the police, as he was scared, he met me and then the police came and took me into an ambulance and off to a behavioral therapy center. Boy, that didn’t help because I just lied my way into what they wanted to hear so that I could get back to work and life. As I had not attempted anything, they released me in about 72 hours.
Start of Post Depression Game Plan
After coming out of the institute I worked my butt of to get to the bottom of my sexual issues and self identity. My new approach was to have as much sex as I could and focus on women only and I would overcome my issues. Well, what a dumb bomb of an idea that was. It started with a new receptionist that started at my office. She was younger than me and innocent and not the brightest. She caught wind of where my night job was (a bar) and she showed up one night, unannounced with her friend. I had forgotten how it felt to be wanted. I think I’m like 34 at the time, but I still consider myself young and healthy. Everyone loves to be wanted. Her attraction to me set off the next fumble in my overcoming ED because once again it turned into a fantasy type situation. We started sexting a few nights a week. We swapped pictures and I had a brand new form of PMO that sent my senses racing between visual and written. I was so happy and proud of myself because I thought I had overcome my worry of possibly being gay. I mention again, it’s not that being gay is a problem, it’s just something I wasn’t ready to overcome at the time if I was. The whole relationship escalated to another level over a weekend when my friend and I had a 2000 mile round-trip road trip for the sport we played. The entire weekend, any downtime at the hotel, was crazy sexting time for me. My hormones were off the chart. I didn’t want to ruin anything and MO, so I held it in. I told her we’d meet up when I got back. We did just that and it was a dumpster fire on my part. First I was crazy nervous because it was someone I worked with and I didn’t want word getting out, especially if I wasn’t good and secondly because you can’t have a workplace relationship. It had also been a number of years since I was with a woman. I was literally pumped all day in anticipation. I knew no MO was a great idea and that I’d be as awesome as I’d been years ago in my college escapade years. Whoops, was I wrong. The only thing I accomplished was her O. That’s the only thing I accomplished. Only a minute or two in I knew that was the new game plan. Performance anxiety was at a peak. I told her it was nerves and that I’d take care of her. I wasn’t going to make this a selfish deal, I needed to be the selfless me because I remember the times when my sex life was at my happiest was when I was the most selfless and successful. The night ended and the the weirdness continued with her for 2 more years of working alongside of her. I was a real turd when it came with being honest to her. I told her we’d connect again some day over and over by text, when she asked, and we never did. I just kept avoiding it. I always knew I would never get back together. I avoided it because I knew I couldn’t perform, I avoided it because I knew I would fail and that I’d embarrass myself more. I moved on from that in my head long before she left the company because I just blocked it out and moved on in my head.
Back To Full PMO
The last couple of days I’ve read about being desensitized. Wow, so I realize that now. I’ve had zero attraction to women and generally guys for about 3 years now. PMO, PMO, PMO. I’d moved on from the thought of sex. My depression slowly disappeared when I had come to that realization. Again, I never took any of the non-sex future as an age issue. I took it as if it wasn’t for me anymore. It had run its course for whatever reason. PMO fulfilled everything I ever needed. I thought that no one could satisfy me better than myself. PMO, gay PMO, and reading articles. When straight porn no longer did it, I’d watch gay porn. When that no longer did it I went back to straight porn with stronger stories and then back to gay porn with better stories or stronger content That crazy cycle has lasted until now. Age 39.
The Start of Something Unexpected
Two sections ago was the start of post depression. That really is true. I worked to realize I was depressed and focused on fixing that. In the last couple years I’ve really worked toward bettering myself, having positive thoughts, being a more positive person, beginning to love myself, except me for me, become a better person toward others, expand my horizons, come out of my social shell and most of all help others. In my depressive time I was as low as 142 lbs (5’10”). That’s crazy skinny for me. I then started feeling better about myself and overdid it and got to about 194 lbs from what may be called as happy/comfortable eating. I no longer felt myself as attractive so I changed my diet and portion sizing and got to 175 lbs in about 6 months. About this time is when my life started to change for the good (March 2019). Once again I met someone at work, different department. This time a good looking 26 year old African American man (let’s call him DT for ease of story). Here’s how crazy life is. Everything I tell you from this point on has happened in about the last 10 weeks and had gotten me to this site to tell the entirety of my story.
DT was a driver for my company and he got into an automobile accident. I was instructed to talk with him, find out what happened and write him up. DT, myself and a coworker sat in an office and talked about what happened and what he should do to prevent this in the future. My coworker had asked DT if he took pictures of the damaged other car and he said yes. Mind you, DT was extremely nervous this whole time because he thought he might be fired. When he went to show me the pictures of the damage he scrolled right past a set of thumbnail pictures of a large black penis. He went fast and didn’t realize that I saw them. My senses went off the chart. My focus was gone from DT’s accident and was solely on what I seen on his phone. After a bit more discussion, our coworker left the office and I was left with DT alone to finish the write up and to print out the accident’s pictures. The entire rest of the time my arousal was through the roof. He had no idea I had seen the pictures. Earlier he had told me he wanted to be careful showing his phone because he had some NSFW pictures on there. Anyways, we finished with the work formalities and the write up and discussion. I think I discussed with him some life lessons just to help stay in the office with him longer and longer. Basically a creeper. I went home and about an hour later I texted him and said I’d like to apologize for what happened today. It was a decision I had battled with internally the entire ride home because of the morals and ethics of it and the invasion of privacy of sorts and then also any possibility of exposing myself in any form. I had built myself up in recent months to live a freer life than I had built myself in the past. To let myself loose and more open and become more social. Allow myself to get into uncomfortable situations. The decision I made wasn’t without shaking in my own body nerves but I chose to do it, rightly or wrongly. I have to minimize part of the story but this is what happened from 7pm until about 2am. DT replies back and asked what I was apologizing for. He thought he had done wrong by getting into an accident and deserved the write up and discussion. I told him I had seen some pictures while he was scrolling that I shouldn’t have. He asked me what I saw. I beat around the bush a bit and then told him a few pictures of a black penis. He immediately said that he was sorry that I had to see it and was happy I hadn’t seen anything else but his blessed self. Well that answered the question in the back of my head of whether that was his, which was interesting, or a “friend” of his. I then told him it took guts for him to scroll his phone within my site just to show accident pictures. He replied back with it took guts for me to text him to apologize to him for something I could have kept to myself. We were both right. I asked him why he would have pictures like that. He said to send to people that he wants to. I asked him if he’s a player and why he said people instead of women. He told me he was an open-minded person and that he had a girlfriend but in an open relationship sort of. Well, he really said that she knows and typically is there if anything happens with a guy. Basically sexting PMO happened for the next few hours. That was something I completely regretted the next day for all the reasons already mentioned above and all you could ever think of. I admit to this day that it was awesome and at the same time it’s the true beginning of the reason I’m typing this story on this forum to help fix myself going forward.
We kept in touch a little in passing and over text but nothing big or worth mentioning. We were both being really careful not to be connected or get too caught up again. What it did for me though was it rejuvenated my desire for real life sex. I started looking at him and other people (men and women) and thinking about things. It was a positive. I started to build a drive again. My libido definitely picked back up in relation to real life thoughts, not porn related. I started manscaping, buying new clothes and shoes, shaving more often, eating even better than I had already started and started working out. My purpose wasn’t necessarily to get with DT, although that was definitely a back of my head goal. My goal was to better myself even more since I just had a weird boost of self confidence. I started to prepare myself for a real life experience that I didn’t necessarily think would happen soon, but to start preparing myself for it just in case. I’d started to think about dating sites, seeking out a girl at a bar or an event or who knows what else. Maybe it was sort of a vicarious living through DT as I remember being a player like him at a younger age. I felt kind of on cloud nine. I felt like a set of events lined up the stars for something bizarrely cool to have happened so I wanted to springboard off of that.
Fast forward to 3 weeks ago. DT got into another accident. My stomach dropped when I found out. I knew they were going to fire him and there was nothing I could do about it. For safety, company policy is to have two people on hand for a firing. It took DT a while to return from the job site. It ended up being after hours. His manager fired him. I tried catching him out in the parking lot to ask him if he needed a ride, as he usually Ubered home. He said no and turned his head away from me. I wasn’t worried about him exposing me. I actually 100% gave a crap about him as a person. I had got to learn just enough about him in a short time that I thought he was a good guy that just made a couple mistakes. I assumed that he wasn’t well off monetarily either. I texted him for days. I emailed him. I called him. I found him on FB and reached out. He ignored me every time and blocked me on FB and I assumed blocked my texts and calls as well. I was crushed. I wanted to help and I couldn’t. I felt guilty. I felt maybe I could have helped in some way more, before his second accident. I wasn’t depressed because I knew I was doing the right thing. I was actually becoming very worried about him as just a human being. I did my best to reach out and send words of encouragement and give as much advice as I could and offer my help as much as I could. I then needed to change my focus back to my own health as I knew there was a chance I’d fall into depression, after much longer, because that’s how I am. From the first day we sat down to discuss his first accident until this point in the story I had PMO maybe 3 times only. That’s across 6 weeks I believe. I could tell I was in a good place. I then started working out harder than I ever had, just at home on the treadmill and typical pushups, sit-ups and whatever you can do without equipment. I was keeping my mind busy instead of worrying too much about something I couldn’t do much about.
2 weeks pass by and DT finally texts back. He thanked me for the kind words, encouragement and caring for his well being. He told me he didn’t want to say anything he would regret. I always had a feeling that’s what it was but it was good to hear him say that. Again, my confidence went up. He still needed to collect his final check but didn’t want to come to the office. He also asked if I could help him find a job as I described that I could probably help with. He asked if I wanted to meet up this past Monday. I told him I’d take him to eat and we’d talk about a game plan to help him. So, we go out and have a great talk. I learned more about him and discussed a game plan for himself and for how I could help with any of my knowledge and contacts. Since he always Ubered, I of course picked him up and had to drive him back home. I have to leave parts of this out, but on the way to dropping him off he asked if I remembered the other things we discussed the first time we texted and of course I said I hadn’t forgotten. Well, in the passenger seat he pulled out his penis and said that he wanted to end the nerves we had on that subject. Of course I absorbed all of that sense of his confidence and was instantly excited. I apologize, but I have to tell you just enough of the story for the end result. So, once again I’m with someone that I’m crazy excited about and no ED issues at the exact moment. I give him a little sexual help while I’m driving and then we pull over and I start oral on him while I’m fully erect. Almost the exact instant he asked to give me oral I lost my erection. My mind just freakin melted. Not happening again!!! WHY!?!? How was this possible. It was a freakin dream scenario with a great looking guy that was totally into me. I looked over and there was a person in a car near ours and I told him that we needed to move elsewhere and that I was nervous and apologized. I told him we weren’t through though and my brain reminded me that I used to be a person that loved selfless sex more than anything. That’s what I focused on and I gave him an O before we were done. It still put me on cloud nine. I still had most of my confidence and I was ready to fix my issue. We bumped fists, laughed and smiled a bit and then I finished dropping him off and said we’d be in touch.
One More PMO
That happened this past Monday. The instant I woke up Tuesday I went to one of those websites you see online that allow for discreet consultation for ED and possible prescription for medicine. I was done hiding about my issue. I needed to do something. I filled out the profile and questionnaire and they replied back with more questions. My gut said I didn’t need the blue pills, but I thought I needed a different pill for performance anxiety as I kept having an erection right up until the time I brought out my little friend. Tuesday and Wednesday were a back and forth conversation with the doctor on his questions to make sure I didn’t have an underlying heart issue. Wednesday came around and I was on day 5 of no PMO, because I was in a good place. At that exact time I didn’t know the term PMO. It was just a way of life for me. PMO was high in bad times and low in good times. Wednesday I wanted to PMO not because I was in a bad place but because I was celebrating Monday, despite failure, celebrate me reaching out to solve the problem, and damn it all made me horny. I started the duty and I started to have a crazy amount of confidence of what I was doing and I text DT late at night and asked him if he wanted to see something. He didn’t reply, so I didn’t send. I finished my PMO and then a strong sense of guilt clouded over me, like I’d never had. I don’t know why I did what I just did. I didn’t understand the reasoning of starting PMO anymore because it seemed dumb after completion. I didn’t understand why I felt it important to ask DT if he wanted to see. I knew he had a girlfriend and that he was more interested in woman and I was just a quickie side thing. That didn’t sadden me. That didn’t depress me. It actually drove me. DT and I had talked that I wanted to be friends first and foremost. Put aside the morals, or lack there of, that we did what we did despite him being in a relationship. Maybe some day we’ll do it again, time will tell. That’s for a different conversation and guilt trip that some of you might throw my way and I will accept it. This is the way I look at it. DT, without knowing it, helped remind me how much I love being with women, he reminded me of how much effort I’ve started to put towards finding a fix to my issue and believe it or not how young I actually feel. I’ve never felt like I was getting older, but at 39 I’ve never felt younger and younger and the situation and events with DT have sparked that more.
I ran out of allowed character count so my story continues below within the thread...if I do this right.
