Morning Ritual

Fewer children hollered at, less dogs kicked

By Chela
Published on LatinoLA: March 10, 2005

Morning Ritual

My mother had a morning ritual. It was prayer.

She?d open her big ?ole bible, the one she got as a wedding gift, open it to a random page and hear the message god had for her to start her day.

My best friend meditates. She lays in bed and contemplates, plans and opens her mind and spirit for a wondrous day. Some people exercise; others may call their pops or pet their cat. These are all self-loving rituals that I?m sure are very healthy and appropriate.

I have a self-loving ritual of my own. What do you mean, ?What is it?" I just told you. My ritual IS self-love. I love to love myself in the morning! It?s just the ideal way to start my day. Hey, there was a period in my life, when I couldn?t get out of bed without it. But, right now, it?s not as if I need to masturbate to get out of bed.

I just need to masturbate to get out of bed happily.

Freud had a theory that satisfaction is not in pursuing pleasure as much as it is relieving stress. The example given in my college text book was the excretion of feces. We gain an indescribable amount of satisfaction in releasing the tension caused by holding this excrement in. And think about it, you know that time when you were driving and couldn?t find a place to stop so you were squeezing that anus as tight as you could. As you turned corners on two wheels to turn into that BP gas station. You run towards that heavy white door on the side of the building taking small strides only to find that it?s locked. As you wait bouncing around, still squeezing, walking with small strides, you hear voices inside. It?s not what you think at first. If only it were two hornies locked in there for a quickie you could knock on the door, rush them off and ruin their fun (either that or put your ear to the door and enjoy it) but it?s worse than that. It?s a motherly voice, ?Are you almost done, hon?? ?I?m sowwy, just a wittle big lownger?. ?Okay, sweetheart, take your time??Aaaaaah, you squeeze harder realizing that this is THE most uncomfortable sensation ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER created!!! You do anything to escape the discomfort. You take short shotgun breaths, you stand still and gaze into the distance while your intellect flip flops from damning the gods and wondering if you could release just that little bit of gas tapping on your inner anus. And then the door pops open! You know what happens next! Isn?t it, just isn?t it one of the most glorious sensations?

Yes, I agree.

And in a twisted way, you?re grateful, even thankful that you?ve received such gratification releasing this stressor from you body. ?Aaaaaah,? you exhale, ?Maybe god know what he was doing after all.?

Well, that?s kinda like what masturbation is for me. It?s not necessarily pleasurable. It?s kinda pathetic to be young, vibrant, energetic and in a bed alone HORNY as hell all by myself. But afterward, I do ? I do thank god for the dexterity of my finest appendages. And with this newly released tension, I?m ready to start my day.

But, lately, I?ve been having difficulties. Actually, this morning I?ve experienced a difficulty.

There are two men in my life. Two men! Then why am I masturbating, right? Well, one is my baby doll who says despite the past year and a half of outings, support, dialogue, dancing and tearing it up every night we?ve ever seen each other with very few completely legitimate exceptions ? Yes, for a year and a half we had ?sessions? at nearly EVERY SINGLE encounter.

I?ve had more sex with him than the sum of all of my previous life?s experience.

Well, despite this attraction shall we say, despite the fact that he says he ?loves and adores? me ? this man wants to be my friend. Yes, what the heck do I need another friend for? I mean I have plenty of friends; I?ve had plenty of friends my whole life and many of them still like me and consider me their friend, too. I do not lack friends. I am not friend-challenged, friend deficient or friendshipless.

He wants to work on himself, find himself, get healthy, and improve himself yadda, yadda, yadda. Okay, so that energy that was directed at me ? has now been thrusted into other efforts. His business has grown 5 fold, and with that comes the benefit of the financial fruits of his labor ? new house, new car, and a new female roommate.

Yes, I know what you?re thinking and yes, they are just roommates. And I don?t mean the menage a trois, sexually experimenting roommates of the college days. They are legitimate roommates. So me and this man, who is now my ?friend? decided a month ago that now that enough time has passed (9 weeks) we can now spend time together as our new plutonic identity. Event #1: We danced, ended up in his bed. Event #2: I bought a new car, he came to see it ? we ended up permanently reshaping the cushions on my couch. Event #3: We plan to go to a movie ? we never make it there and end up christening his new office (Oh, I forgot to mention, another fruit of his labor since he ended laboring over mine) What does all this mean? Hmmmmmm. Let?s talk about boy #2 and then I?ll get back to this question.

Boy #2, I showered with him yesterday. Okay, not exactly. But, technically I did! We didn?t touch, we didn?t even REALLY see each other (well not all of each other anyways) BUT, the water was on at the same time and there was only one wall between us! And he?s HOT! Hot, hot HOT! Do I love him? Certainly! Do I adore him? 100 percent! I know what you?re thinking. Before you call me a hypocrite for sounding like boy #1. The difference is that boy #2 and I have NOT shared a year and half of shared orgasms and ?or gas-isms?! So it does sound like the perfect environment to have some pretty excited ? purely plutonic, juicy, rough, sweet and everything in-between fun, right? Hmmmmmm. I kinda was thinking so ---- until, this morning!

So, I?m in bed, awake ? been awake for a while as a matter of fact. Not ready to get up, or else I would have masturbated already (so that I could get up, remember?) Rather, I was just about to get up. I put my finger to my flower. ?Y que? I proceed with expertise. What makes me an expert?

Ten years of doing anything successfully makes one an expert.

So, with pride I tell you, at least I?m an expert at something! Well, if you?re not familiar with this process, let me acquaint you. Morning self-induced orgasms are the coordination of the physical and the mental. Any finger can do the trick, my pointer is my favorite. But, despite the skills and agility of my little pointer finger, I will not succeed (and thus continue to be an expert) unless my mind cooperates ? I need a mental image or feeling or thought. One that, shall I say ? excites me. Not hard, I have many exciting thoughts. My mind obliges with the following, ?Oh that boy number one ? remember how he licked his finger then slid it slyly with a tamed controlled force across the lining of my --- Oh boy number two last night how bout his skin, ay y.?

Wait, I was just thinking about boy number one. How did boy number two just jump into my conscious out of nowhere? Go back to boy number one. But why, the image of number two is working. No, it?s not, if it were you wouldn?t have even told yourself to go back to the thought of boy number one. Maybe the image of boy number one wasn?t working or else the thought of boy number two never would have come up in the first place? Okay, let?s start over. Boy number two. Mmmmmm, he has a nice touch. I start to imagine how he would?and I?m rather enjoying the show when guess who pops into my head! Yes, it?s boy number one again! Then that?s when it starts all over again! I can?t hear myself fantasize with all this arguing going on!!!! If I can?t fantasize, I can?t come. If I can?t come --- there goes world peace!

You think I?m kidding? I once read that if people were to learn the skill of masturbation to channel their sexual frustrations, their energies would be more balanced and they?d experience a more peaceful existence. Fewer children would be hollered at. Less wives would be beaten. Fewer bosses would harass and less dogs would get kicked. Instead of people going ?postal? they could just go to group masturbation schools and once we had our domestic ills under control then maybe, just maybe we could start spreading our peace with the others throughout the globe.

However, this morning, I, an avid believer and practitioner of this belief, can not even find peace within myself. I don?t have a darn dog to kick, nor a child to holler at (they were at their dad?s last night, damn it). I?m neither nobody?s partner nor anybody?s boss and although my frustration is not so great that I?d consider the going ?postal? option, I do have a legitimate gripe and blame to press. And again, it is my Catholic upbringing.

I was brought up believing I was going to be a virgin until I was married because I was a virtuous person. Despite the fact that (a) I wasn?t and (b) even after I married I had multiple affairs until I finally admitted I needed out ? something from that Catholic upbringing still tugs at me. I?ve already forgiven myself for my infidelity. I KNOW that this time around, I will date and experience relationships that last, relationship that don?t, relationships based on friendship, relationships based on fun and even relationships based completely and solely on stinking up the room with our funky body?s been sexing smell!

Because, this is what people are entitled to do to enjoy, experience and overall discover who they are and how they like it! Yes, I look forward to being unvirtuous, I plan on it, I?m writing it in the goals section of my calendar ? Have meaningless kinky sex with stranger at least once. Have sex someplace that can warrant an arrest at least twice. Seduce a coworker at least thrice. And lastly, enjoy the pleasures of this skin upon meat upon veins upon juices and bones ANYTIME I WANT and with WHOEVER I WANT. (one exception ? priests and the promised are still and always off limits. ) So then, WHY, WHY, WHY do I even have to masturbate monogamously! I ain't with any of them. Boy number one doesn?t want me. I ain't even shared saliva with boy number two. What is the fuckin? deal?

Then for whatever reason, I remembered the nuns. I recently spent 3 days in a religious retreat home. And then, I became unselfish. I stopped thinking about myself and this complete empathy seeped my being. If I?m feeling like this after ONE morning, how about those poor nuns? Can you even imagine, this sensation compounded and multiplied by 10 zillion million! Actually, just imagining it is unbearable! I felt totally desperate for them. I know what I?ll do. They shared their expertise with me. I?ll share MY expertise with them. Can you picture it, after morning prayer, Chela leads a group discussion and demonstration on ? you guesses it ? my expertise - masturbation for world peace! Actually, that?s so SO sick. (the extents of exaggeration that our literary voices will travel for mere amusement)

Well, my coworker who I have yet to seduce just got out of the bathroom. Until shitting?s a sin, I?m gonna go release some excrement and tension and enjoy the hell out if. That?s all that left for me. Maybe that?s how my Catholic sisters in habits get by?

About Chela:
Chela can be reached at chelas_chews@yahoo.com

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