Ah, Masturbation.

What would we shy gentlemen do without you?

We will be forever grateful for your ability to sate our need.  

We're not like those other men that can chat up some unsuspecting young vixen. Then promptly bed her as if they'd been dating for months.  Only to use them until their interest is lost, discarding them like a damp tissue. We have to wine and dine them for weeks. Just as we believe we are getting close, they hastily leave us for the former when we run across them while out for drinks.

There is no humiliation with you. There is no pressure to perform or rejection for not. You only have my satisfaction in mind, whether it takes twenty seconds or twenty minutes. You bring me to the highest highs without having to experience the lowest of lows.

You are my salvation when I can no longer handle another blind date. You don't care whether I've shaved or showered. Taking care of my morning wood always seems to be your favorite undertaking. And speaking of under, you don't have any problem with a bit of anal stimulation either.

You never get jealous if I do occasionally get lucky with another. And remind me that you will always be there for me no matter what happens in my other relationships. Oftentimes you are my salvation when others string me along, causing the dreaded blue-balls. The ability to resolve the cruelty that they inflict is your particular talent.

My Junior year of High School was the worst!

They always traveled in packs and teased us introverts. Occasionally one would befriend me, but that's just what it was, friends. Whenever their schoolmate touch would light a fire in me, I was quickly rebuffed. After all, we were just friends and nothing more. In the aftermath, they'd flaunt their more-than-friends affection with another right in front of me. You were there to relieve my need and bring peace back to my inflamed nether regions.

That geometry class where I was the only guy in a room full of cruel teenage girls was the coup de grace. In a class of thirty, twenty were in the pom-pom squad, and eight were cheerleaders. They had the audacity to wear their short-skirted outfits to class, causing unimaginable distress to my tighty-whitey's. And then there was Kelly, the most beautiful girl in school, and she sat right next to me. She was obscenely nice but dating the biggest guy in the entire school. I dared not even look at her the wrong way. Fortunately, this was the last class of my day, and I could race home to let you handle my problem expeditiously.

Moving into the working world wasn't much better. The women got even better at manipulating me without any quid pro quo. When I finally did begin to get some relief without your assistance, it was usually short-lived. They would give me just enough so that they could run over me at will.

Being the wallflower that I was kept me from meeting anyone at parties. Even the work events were pure misery. There'd always be one or two drunk girls that would be practically handing it out until I came near. Sure, they'd let me see a little and give me a kiss or two, but when it came to getting down and dirty, everything stopped.

So, to sum things up, I owe you more than I can say and know deep down that you will always be there for me. I'll be sitting in the corner at the old folk's home while you satisfy my unending need as the old cronies shuffle by.