Well, not exactly “sexting.” I don’t think I am one of those avid closet sexters. I am not even…well, closet, out of the closet, I am not any kind of sexter! Sure, I guess I might be a little guilty of typing a word or two about…I might comment on kids these days. I am just a healthy, man. I wouldn’t think…I don’t consider it a crime to just voice my opinions, under a pseudonym, of course. No, I won’t tell you the name I use, that would defeat the whole purpose, eh? And, it is fairly harmless. I never write anything about little boys or anything like that. On more than one occasion I have, well I have never acted on any of the stuff that I have written up. Hmm., maybe I should sort of delete that from the disk, erase it and…maybe I shouldn’t have done it in the first place. I tell you, if I were one of their fathers, I wouldn’t be real happy. Yes, I think I will be trying to find that stuff and I will erase it. As a policy, and I have never really considered it, sexting is…it is not good. Me? I am and pretty much always have been a fine, upstanding kind of person. I went to Catholic school and Catechism and the whole bit. I used to go to mass, church at least two times in the school week and then on Sundays, too. I guess that is one reason I turned out to be a “temporary sexter.” No, I am not a temporary sexter…no, I am sot a “full-time sexter either. I am a little guilty of writing down some of the stuff that I was thinking. Hey, what healthy guy isn’t? Okay, I guess I do a bit of “fiddling” but that isn’t abnormal. Gee, if a guy didn’t play the fiddle every once in a while, that could be a big problem (if you know what I mean). It is, of course, better to just get down and…get “equalized” by his woman, but there is just something different about ringing your own bell, punching your own time clock (or cock) every now and again. Sexting? Writing down one’s tails and travails? It is sort of like keeping a journal, but not. I remember I used to, guilty again, I used to do my laundry pretty late. There was this coffee machine. That coffee would just run right through you and you just had to wait for your laundry to get done. For some reason, I went in and had to sit on the thrown, the men’s toilet and I took this innocuous magazine. I took this L.L. Bean catalogue. I just finished doing my business and I flipped over to the women’s section. I ended up getting a hard on at 11:30 p.m. in the bathroom stall of this laundry room and I began fiddling. I don’t know what came over me. I flipped the page to see this other gorgeous girl. I was ashamed of myself. Nobody came in, but I just jerk off in a public laundry room. Then, I went back to wait for my laundry. As I waited, I googled L.L.Bean models. I came up with just a few results. Then, I thought of the catalogue. What was the name of that catalogue? I had already chucked it out, but …what would it be under? “L.L.Bean winter sale”? BAM! I saw her face, and another couple of pretty models flash up on my I-Pad. I closed the note book. A couple of seconds, maybe a minute later I opened the notebook. I knew I’d have to re open “the file,” but I knew where to go to get it again. I retrieved it and sent it onto my mail. I guess that qualifies as doing a bit of sexting. But, I didn’t care to steel any looks at the site even sideways. I’d surly be labeled a pervert, I’m not a perv. I might be single, a male and…but I’m not a perv. Now, that is why I jerk. I jerk to “relieve tension.” I am going over to meet this girl, too. I am going over to her place to relieve a little tension. That reminds me, I have to drop by CVS on the way. But, I think I am only going to write about it all. She is a writer, too. Come to think of it, I don’t even really know what “sexting” really is. I do know, however, that I don’t do it. For the most part, I am a good guy and don’t really have a lot a bad stuff going on. I can’t help it, I am good. By the way, you do know that all of this crap is just that—a load of crap. Do you really think that I would admit to the world that I had been jerking off in a laundry room?
One ringy dingy