Say you’re some guy living in Nigeria.
Say you’re in your mid twenties and fresh out of college. Say like every other male you’ve got an appetite for women. Say your appetite is really healthy. Say you’re not in a relationship and you don’t have a female friend for companionship. Sexual companionship.
Say the ladies are so hard to please these days and you haven’t had sex in five months.
Say you’re all these things.
Then you just might be me.
Sex is a drug.
It’s a powerful and mind numbing drug. Wars have been fought over this most trifling of acts. What’s that? What about love you say?
It’s never about love. It’s always about sex. You don’t believe me examine the scenarios yourself. We’ve all heard about battles between grown men over some chick. Not once have you ever heard of a battle over some ugly chick. The girl is always some beautiful sexbomb.
There’s a reason why medusa is single And Beyonce famous.
It’s not the snakes.
So here I am on my fifth month.
Sex is a drug.
And I’m trying to go cold turkey.
Why am I abstaining you might ask. Well it’s a bit silly. I’m trying to get disciplined. I woke up one morning and realized that if I kept on going the rate I was, I would end up dead one day with the words “ he wasn’t disciplined!” inscribed on my tombstone.
Hardly my idea of a grand ending.
So I decided to get disciplined. Make sure I was always on time. I’d get rid of the 3 kilos of weight that I had been promising myself to loose. Cut down on my hours with my psp, pay more attention to my studies. Call my mother more often, And give up sex.
Just for kicks. To prove that I could
Because all those hours I spent tracking and sweet talking ladies into my bed , the subsequent hours of romping , the mental and physical drain. All those hours could be put to better use.
Like maybe learning how to play a guitar.
Man it hasn’t been easy.
No I don’t mean learning how to play a guitar, I mean my abstinence.
The first month was the worst.
I had made up rules guiding my celibacy.
No kissing, touching or midnight romp with some girl. I wasn’t allowed behind the scenes fondling of C. junior. Naturally watching porn was a definite no.(SInce i had aleady had the playboy mags ,those could stay). No accidental orgasms. Wet dreams. Masturbation. Nothing.
I smiled as I made out the list.
Bring it on. I can do it.
After the first 2 weeks I was in agony. Every single girl walking on the streets was testament to what I couldn’t have. Nipples teased me beneath blouse tops. The flash of cleavage, the soft moistness of female lips. The exiting swell of the female butt. Believe me people ,There’s a God somewhere. It was almost impossible to work the streets without my much exited member (I call him Sebastian) rearing his ugly head. So I developed a walk.
A special walk to hide my state.
Sebastian grew three extra inches because of my dilemma. Not that it did me much good. What’s point having a yatch if you live in the desert? I knew I was in trouble when I watched sisters Act and was turned on by Whoopi. I had an erection through out the entire movie. I couldn’t believe it.
The first month was hell.
And I didn’t even learn to play the guitar.
Still , with subsequent months I leant how to control my urges When I felt like having sex, which was almost always , I would go out and do something to block out the images. Take a walk. Go out and watch a game. Preferrably one without females. Attend to some work. Anything to get my mind of the erotic images flashing behind my eye. If that didn’t work I’d take a sleeping pill and go to bed.
Going to the local chemist took an entirely different meaning.
Long night ahead huh?
No I don’t want to buy a condom.
5 tablets of valium please.
I think I slept through out the entire second and third month.
With the fourth month came peace. I finally got Sebastian under control. I could finally talk to a girl without diving into a fantasy of how lovely her lips would feel. How soft her moans would be if I slowly swirled my tongue against her nipple. How her belly would squirm beneath me as I softly blew hot air against her skin and slowly made wet circles with ice cubes. How firm her legs would feel on either side of my head as I cradled her butt and made love to her with my tongue.
This isn’t helping my situation.
You see...the thing is I’m ready to drop of the wagon. I think I've proven myself to me. I’ve gone five months. Way to go. Here’s your medal for achievement on and beyond the call of sanity. Congratulations.
I probably have the Guinness book of record record for longest abstinence. I’ve got so much pepped up testerone that I’m sure if I hugged a girl she would get pregnant.
You don’t believe me.
Step up and see.
Ladies and gentlemen the amazing Car.
I’m ready to fall off the wagon.
But here’s my dilemma. I don’t want to do it with just anyone. Five months. That’s a 153 days. That’s at least thrice as many erections with no respite and an ad infinitum at night.
you don’t just break a fast like that with anyone. You do it with someone you’re crazy about. Someone you’re nuts about. Some one you really care for. Someone whom you can just spend the day with just staring into her eyes. Someone who you’ll be able to gist with afterwards and giggle about how loud you screamed. How much of you kept coming.
I’m not much of an expert but my next step is obvious.
Even Dear Abby would agree.
Say you’re some guy with a healthy sex drive.. Say you’re some guy who has been celibate for five months. Say you’re some guy who hasn’t kissed a girl in five months. Say you're some guy with an above healthy super sex drive who goes around claiming it;s just merely healthy. Say you’re some guy who watches female lawn tennis matches more frequently the last five months.
Say you’re me.
What your next plan should be would be to fall madly in love with a girl.
And enjoy the best love making session ever.
Because some things actually beat sex.
Making love for instance.