It'll Seem Less Crazy When Your Balls Fill Back Up

Late last night, I told a quivering, panting caller, "Don't worry, love, it will all seem much less crazy when your balls fill back up."

I could hear it in the way he was gasping, "Oh my God..." that his rational mind was trying to come to terms with what his animal urges had driven him to do moments before. It wasn't anything immoral, just something he did not find sexy at all when his brain isn't drowning in a flood of lusty sex hormones.

When your balls are full, all kinds of things sound sexy. It's as if the semen is seeping up into your thoughts, making everything you see wiggle and squirm and potentially give pleasure. Who knows? It might feel great to stroke yourself while wearing that silicon oven mitt with the thick ridges. Or with a weight tied to your balls. Or you might enjoy trying a vibrator up your ass for the first time.

But then starting about fifteen seconds after your testicles empty themselves, the list of sexy things in the world collapses suddenly. For example, eating your own cum - it's hard to do because it requires action in the moment after you have an orgasm, which is exactly the moment when your brain flushes itself the cleanest of all those animal-lust-inducing endorphins.

Don't sweat it. The phenomenon happens to the best of you ball-bearers of the world.

I stumbled across an online article from Psychology Today titled, "Sick Secret Sexual Fantasies" which handily provides some evidence to back up my personal observations:

Do disturbed, conflicted, problematic fantasies really reflect deep-seated psychological disturbance? The building evidence suggests that they do not.

To clarify, I'm not talking about violent fantasies of genuinely causing someone else non-consensual harm -- I think those fantasies should be discussed with a professional, and if they are played out in a sexual way, everyone involved should be very aware of the situation and of the risks.

What I'm talking about are fantasies that press against your rational boundaries. For me, it's anal sex: when I am tired or not in a sexy head-space, butt-sex sounds completely unappealing, potentially messy, potentially painful, and generally all-around not fun. But when my body fills up with the right kind of lust and shoves my rational self into the closet, I have been known to beg, "Please fuck my ass, Sir!"... and mean it. Wholeheartedly.

So if you find yourself stroking to mental images of your wife happily being gang-banged by a racially diverse group of well-hung studs, but baffled as to why since you're pretty sure it wouldn't be her thing, my recommendation is that you not worry about it. It'll all make sense again when your balls fill back up, I promise.