"The Unplugged Challenge" - Sex Stories

"The Unplugged Challenge"

... masturbated pretty much every night since I was twelve. It was how I relaxed, how I got to sl**p, how I dealt with the pressure of all the hotties at my school, or accidentally seeing my s****r in just a bra and panties. I wasn’t proud of that last one, but the dick doesn’t know right from wrong, it just responds. I didn’t just do it at night, but it was usually the safest time, since my f****y had a habit of not knocking during the day. While the sun was up, my Mom and s****r would sometimes just barge into my room without warning, and it was only after dark that knocking became standard etiquette, although by no means certain. Usually I was too paranoid to start before it was time for bed. At night it was quiet enough that I could hear somebody approaching, and I had an excuse for being under the covers, so I considered it ‘safe’. But since we’d started this stupid Challenge, I hadn’t jacked off to completion, not once. It was the opposite problem from daytime before. It was just too damn quiet at night. All the modern technologies, they don’t just provide entertainment, information, a connection to our social life. They also provide background noise. If everybody’s watching TV they’re not likely to notice the soft, repetitive motion coming from my room as I lay in bed, pulling up and down on my stiff prick, my bed shaking and floor creaking ever-so-faintly as I did. And even if nobody else is watching TV, I can turn up my TV loud to cover the noise. Without television, ...

... without the computer, it seemed every sound in the house was magnified. I could hear my Dad clear his throat three rooms away. I was just too scared to masturbate, afraid of the embarrassment that would ensue from them hearing me and knowing what I was doing. Mom and Dad might not say anything, but I’d see it in their eyes, and I was afraid Krista would tease me mercilessly about it. I can’t even be sure they would hear me if I tried, but in that awful silent house with no computers, fear made me hold back from doing any more than a light stroke, or what I called Penis Pushups, where I flexed the muscles around my dick, making my erection pop up if I was lying on my back or press into the bed if I was on my stomach. That wasn’t enough to get off to, but it was just enough to get me even more horny and frustrated. I could have taken care of it in the shower, but different neuroses and anxieties would come into play, then, the absurd certainty that my showers were being timed and they’d notice an extra long shower, or that my spunk would clog the drain or, worse, wouldn’t wash down and I wouldn’t notice it, but whoever showered after me, would. It was a silly fear, but I’ve got a lot of silly fears. It’s the thing I hate most about myself. I cursed myself when I realized that, if I hadn’t gone to my friend’s place, I would have had some time alone in the house after school to take care of the problem. A few days longer and I probably would have broken down and just gotten off in ...