Money and reputation are my new God (or Fapping for Charity)

It is Sunday!

On Friday, before getting out of bed, I rubbed one out to some short-length PornHub video. This was despite me having told myself that I would refrain from fapping to porn until my date which was due in a few days time. I failed myself.

Moments after, while taking my morning shower, an exciting idea came to me. It was about doing yet another NoFap challenge. If you have been following this blog for any length, you might be aware of my obsession with the idea of NoFap. (Just Google NoFap if you have never heard about that)

I get some self-righteous satisfaction from setting a goal of not jerking off for a fixed length of time and actually achieving it. In the past five years, I think I must have set a NoFap goal, at least five times. Most times, of course, I co-opt a friend or acquaintance, knowing that my own self-accountability is zilch. Sometimes, I've been successful, and rightly proud of myself. Other times, not so much.

The "Fapping for Charity" idea

The idea which I got in the bathroom was to do a NoFap with a friend, again. The fact that the last one I did with a friend fell through the cracks was not enough of a deterrent to nip it in the bud. No. I would choose a different accountability partner this time: Davis.

See Davis? I think he is the one person that, if I had to, would describe as a close friend. For the past year or so, we have been talking regularly, on a schedule. Outside of him, I can count on a hand's fingers, the number of people with whom I can discuss something like this and not get told off quickly, or worse still, ridiculed.

Davis seemed like the right person, mainly because I am aware that he had recently tried to go on a NoFap challenge on his own. But that did not go so well. And I know that he wasn't happy about it. In the same vein, early on in our relationship, he had expressed his concern about his habit of fapping to porn every night before falling asleep.

The interesting thing about my idea, beyond the factor of mutual accountability, is that this time, I thought to step things up a notch: make things financial. Davis has money to spare, and so do I. So, perhaps, it wouldn't be such a bad idea if we both gave money to charity if one of us broke our chastity vows.

The "Fapping for Charity" manifesto

Later that morning, from my office desk, I proposed the idea to Davis. He raised some concerns about it, but after a fast-paced back-and-forth texting, Davis agreed to be my partner on my umpteenth attempt to get my sexual urges under control. We agreed to start the next day: Saturday.

You know, I was really happy that Davis opted in because I was convinced that it would be hard to find any other suitable and interested person. Don't even get me started on how my last attempt to do this with Lennie fell into pieces, thanks to his undependability.

In case, you are wondering, NoPMO means "No Porn, Masturbation and Orgasm"

It is Sunday night, so join me in celebrating two days in, because there is totally no way that I am going to jerk off between publishing this article and going to bed 😛.

Money and Reputation are my new God

This morning, before getting out of bed, I had to resist the temptation to rub one out. Yes, that "jerking off before getting out of bed" thing is a habit that I developed recently. Life has gotten sadder, plainer, too predictable. And so, maybe we can refer to the new habit as a self-developed and self-administered consolation, palliative.

Back in my bed this morning, almost as soon as the urge arrived, the memory of my new pact with Davis cancelled it out. It was effortless. A simple pact with a very human Davis - who cannot even know if I jerked off and didn't tell him - was enough to stop me from pleasuring myself in private. 

I consider my relationship with Davis so important that I know instinctively that doing something like breaching a voluntary agreement with a lie is a grave sin. Since I cannot lie and I also have not figured out a reasonable excuse for throwing my friend's 7 Euros away, my brain quickly decided it would find a less-risky way for early-morning recreation.

In my teenage days, when I still had a fear of God, it would have been the fear of Him, not that of losing money or of tainting my relationship with Davis that would have stopped me. After each PMO session back then, I would typically say a prayer of repentance, promising the big man in the clouds for the umpteenth time that this would surely be the last time. Also, I would spend several hours after, wallowing in guilt. Unfortunately (or fortunately), those days are long gone. Nowadays, when I fap to porn, I move right on with my day like I just took a pee.

---- 

PS: Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this, you can sign-up to be the first to get future posts from this blog by using the Follow By Email section-down below.

PPS: You could also email me at lonelyblackboy ~ at ~ gmail ~ dot ~ com. I think I could use a new anonymous penpal, even though those things tend to fizzle away quickly 😑.