As this day ends and my bedtime grows near, I find myself at a loss for words. I was looking forward to this evening, but now I am engulfed in disappointment and self-loathing. It's been a week since I masturbated and I decided that today was the day. The thought first entered my mind this morning, and all day long, it was there, lingering in the back of my mind, like a cheetah waiting to pounce on a young gazelle. I viewed countless people out and about on this fine afternoon, some absolutely beautiful and arousing, others bland and non-descript. The beautiful ones drew my desire, and the image they painted inspired my decision to take the plunge tonight...the one in which I now regret. Perhaps I should not have had that wine, or maybe I should not have waited and acted as soon as I arrived home from work. Either way, the entire production was wholly unsatisfying and extremely uneventful. I made my move mere minutes ago and now here I sit writing this shit on the fucking internet, like any of you even care. The moment I climaxed, I immediately regretted it…and the mess I made was the proverbial icing on the cake. Dammit, what a waste of a fine sexual appetite. Time for a shower...