When the plumbing hardly shoots blanks!!

nsfw

I got over the fact of a low-sperm count as I encountered my adventures in matrimony. 

I had a ready-made phallic  tool for penetration into those depths of twitching, receptive warmth, and that needed only prophylactics for public health ethics for future 

infatuations and romance.

Became jaded to "the virtues" of infatuation and romance as more me (or 'they') looking

 for what was the vacancy I (they) had neglected to have filled with purpose and resolution.  Lacking convictions for whatever I did have than doing it for social externals, it was easier   to indulge as the prowling luster seeking the predisposition of those of equal or more absence of meaning that a weekly or bi-weekly pay day.  I was seeking those who also       used sex as the compensatory filler for that absence of nothing more than the                    week-to-week mental and emotional gymnastics to garner subsistence dollars.

Those, who chafed at the expected social roles that they've avoided or in which they were trapped, provided acute moments of sensual tactile feelings for those climactic moans and panting, heavy exhalations that temporarily gave an amnesiac relief for the chores of the obliged civic pretense. What tits with their erect, budding nipples offering themselves           to my lips and mouth for a sucking only a hungry infant could match. Or the hairy      snatches between the now parted legs, whose allure was greater than any pungent aroma wafting from them since their owner's glassy-eyed look of to-be-ravished anticipatory      gasps and moanings had my mouth falling toward that chasm as surely as if I was falling     off a cliff.  The agitated arousal of both the sex partner and me in the frenzy of body parts and muscles prior to phallic penetration was what made the orgasm and ejaculation a    fitting climax to that sensory narrative...

Ahhhhh, how time exposes limitations of aspirations. Especially when internet porn     reveals that this or that erotic scenario is just a mental trigger that exposes the former    visual lusts of visceral desire, so when 'times get harder than '29' and the physical             eye-candy is not handy, 'Righty' becums my playmate-of-convenience. Of course how       many videos or spam emails does it take before the 'ol poll' no longer registers the       reaction of a Texas Gusher? (About 6 years)..

Stimulation no longer cumming from infatuation, romance, lust, titillation: cause I've psyched myself into a mental immunization that compounds what nature is taking            care of chronologically. Now the plumbing is becoming disengaged. There goes the       handy-escape! It does coincide with a more focused imperative for the incidentally         casual of the coincidental serendipity. Can either go to the el Doctore to see what they     could do if there is something occurring with the plumbing-just to know, OR find out    what's waiting behind door #2.