Neck Pains - A Story

**I don't find this story that funny, because I lived most of it. Hopefully you find amusement in my misfortune. And sorry to write about my whacking off tendencies - I know it's gross, but the story might be funny to you.**

Before I went to bed the other night, I thought I might have better chance of getting to sleep if I relieved a little tension. Unfortunately, things seriously backfired...

I went to my favorite site these days: xtube.com, navigating my with my left hand, because my right hand was covered in Aveeno Positively Radiant lotion. When I had moved into my current apartment, the girl who lived there before left five bottles of lotion. The Aveeno was my favorite one. She also left a large tub of petroleum jelly. I thought about using the Vaseline as my lube, but then I remembered that she had a raging cold sole, which is probably what she used the Vaseline for, and I didn't want to risk having her cold sore germs festering in the lube for me to slather all over my junk - I threw it away so I wouldn't be temped to use it when I was drunk. To this day, I've never jerked off with petroleum jelly.

I sat on the edge of my bed with my computer set up on the edge of my desk. I was already pretty hard from seeing all of the teaser pics while navigating to my favorite video: "college hidden cam sex." It was 11:00 pm, and I think a lot of people needed to blow off some tension that night. It was a Tuesday and the video was taking fucking forever to download. I used this time to adjust the tilt of the screen of my white iBook that I had got for Christmas two years earlier. With the screen finally tilted I tried to get comfortable as the video started to play.

Sitting straight up, I realized that my whole genital area was sunk into my stomach. What was certainly a full on boner was reduced to three inches past the creases in my midriff's skin.

I paused the video; I had a solution. Using my free hand, I pulled my futon from couch to bed position - holding my right hand high in the air so as to avoid accidentally sullying my comforter. I picked up my laptop, swung it onto the bed and adjusted the screen. Laying down, I couldn't get a good angle; the contrast was all off. I managed to get a good picture by laying in a semi-supine position with the screen tilted in an acute angle. While in my stance, which reminded me of an ab exercise the girl's squash team used to do after practice, which made me a little bit harder, I suddenly noticed that my socks were still on. I thought about that scene in the movie Mallrats where they talk about making woopie when the girl has her socks still on. I think of Brodie, the character played by Jason Lee. I think of Scientology. I am less hard.

I take off my socks using the pinky of my left hand. I return to my awkward position, glad that I have strong enough abs to hold myself up, and also somewhat embarrassed that I know that I'll get myself off before I am even close to getting tired. The movie is six minutes and twenty two seconds long. I've never made it through the whole thing without stopping to gather myself. That night, I was really into the video; I wanted to see it all the way through. I repeatedly stopped myself on the verge of climax to take long, deep breaths, to think about Kevin Smith movies, to wonder whether when I start having sex again, my stamina will continue to be a problem. The latter thought is the one that really calms the stallion within. Very quickly after I resume the video do I have to start wondering when I am going to need to pause again. That night I stopped and started 8 times.

When the time had come, I was starting to feel a little burn in my stomach, I held my breath as long as I could and when I finally exhaled, my neck snapped backwards in my brief seizure. After a few long breaths, I returned to consciousness, to find that now both of my hands were unavailable to close my computer screen should my roommate come home while I took my requisite shower. I leaned up and felt a sharp pain in my neck. I tried to move my head around to stretch the muscles, but they were so stiff, I couldn't look up. I was forced to look down at the mess I had just made.

The next day my neck still hurt. People at work asked why I turned my head weird. I lied to each and every one of them (with exception to the tech guy who owns slutfuck.tv - he naturally related to my misfortune). Each time I told someone that I had slept wrong, I felt a little more guilty. I started to get angry at people who asked why my neck hurt, because it seemed like the only logical answer was that I slept wrong. When the questions didn't stop, I started to think my confidant had sold me out. From then on, each person that walked by my desk and smiled, I was convinced was drawing up an image of me covered in Positively Radiant, slightly paralyzed in the neck, hoping my roommate doesn't walk in.

I was able to overcome my paranoia by coming up with a lie to tell people. Nobody else asked why my neck was stiff for the rest of the day, but if they had, I would have recited the quote: "her legs were pressing against my ears so tightly that I didn't hear her father come into the room. He grabbed my hair and he pulled me way back, hard."