This weekend I masturbated in my parent’s house and here’s what happened
I took my pants off.
My mom knocked on the door.
I put my pants back on.
I told my mom I didn’t need her to wash my clothes (I did).
I took my pants off again.
I thought about fucking.
I went on Facebook.
The boy who beat me in the 1996 spelling bee randomly liked a post.
I thought about fucking the boy who beat me in the 1996 spelling bee.
My dad yelled asking if I wanted ravioli.
I yelled ‘Yeah, I’ll eat some, thanks!’
I tried remembering the word that made me lose.
It wasn’t ‘photosynthesis’.
I definitely spelled that one right.
Can you believe it?
A 5th grader correctly spelling photosynthesis?
It was amazing.
I came again.
I messaged the boy who beat me in the 1996 spelling bee.
He told me the word was ‘hygiene’.
He also told me he was divorced.
I came again!
My dad yelled asking how many ravioli I wanted.
I yelled ‘Well, how big are they?’
He yelled ‘They’re decent!’
I yelled ‘I’ll take 4!’
I closed my eyes.
I thought about fucking again.
My dad yelled that dinner was ready.
I yelled ‘Okay!’
I tried for a fourth.
My mom also yelled that dinner was ready.
I yelled ‘I know!’
I got frustrated.
It wasn’t going to happen.
I put my pants on.
I went downstairs.
I ate ravioli.
I asked my dad for a ride to Mike’s.
My dad drove me to Mike’s.
I commented on the neighbor’s Christmas decorations.
I thought of that time in college he picked me up from TJ’s.
And I reeked of marijuana.
Did I reek of masturbation?
I told myself to shut up.
We got to Mike’s.
I told my dad I loved him.
Support Carolyn & My Sex Project by donating to her Patreon!