Blair Shares

Night Pleasures

I awaken in the middle of the night barely aware that my hand is already on it moving back and forth.

Slowly, hardly noticing the pressure but starting to feel the pleasure starting to build.

My hand starts to move a little faster, I know I should stop, already I’m reaching that point where I know I may not be able to quit.

My wife is laying next to me, if she wakes I know she’ll be upset.

I can feel the surface getting warmer and I can feel the blood starting to rise to the surface.

A little cream would make it feel so much better but I left it in the living room.

If I don’t stop soon I know I’ll have regrets, why do I still do this?

I have been at this since I was a kid, is it a habit? An addiction? Or is it something else that takes control?

Now, there is more pressure and I’m going faster, the feeling is so good.

Then, just like that, it’s too late.

Stupid eczema.

Now the side of my leg is raw and burning. I can‘t see it in the dark, but I’m sure it’s a crimson red.

How can something feel so damn good hurt so much?

Tomorrow I’m putting the Hydrocortisone cream on BEFORE I go to bed.



  1. Oh my, this is really a big problem. I hope the cream will work soon. If not, maybe some other cream will do.

  2. This is one of the most powerful line in the poem: If I don’t stop soon I know I’ll have regrets, why do I still do this?

    completely agreed, Even I feel the same.

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