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He was trying to figure out how to have an orgasm without touching his penis. Here was the thinking. When I was a boy I used to have these things called nocturnal emissions. Wet dreams. It was the process of masturbating in your subconscious. It was coming while dreaming. It was having an orgasm without touching your penis. There's got to be a way to duplicate this in the conscious state. Don't tell ME that Mr. Sandman is more powerful than my rational brain. If I can dream it, I can do it.

So, the man had decided to teach himself how to have an orgasm, at will, just by thinking about it. He would lie in bed for hours at a time, lying perfectly still, not moving an inch. He would (WHHHHW) try to clear out his mind and (WHHHHW) count very slowly backwards from ten and (WHHHHW) try to think of nothing but happy, dirty thoughts.

His mind went in weird directions. He thought, You know, when you're receiving oral sex and the moment of orgasm comes, you are locked into a frenzy of ecstasy. Your lover becomes the most important person who ever existed. You live and die for them. You can't believe someone else has the power to make you feel that good. But when you're on the giving side of oral sex and the moment of orgasm comes, you are thinking, "Hmm, I wonder what I'll have for breakfast tomorrow morning," or "Hmm, should I get the Palm Pilot V now or wait six months and get the Palm Pilot VII? 'Cause that one will have wireless internet access, and that would be pretty cool." And the man would wonder why he would be having these thoughts when he was trying to achieve a meditative state. He would wonder if he just couldn't cut it, if he just wasn't a guy who could achieve the Immaculate Orgasm.

Finally in desperation, he turned to his sexual guru, his spiritual advisor, his erotic elder...Carl. Carl was the man who knew it all. And the man said, "Carl, why am I not able to achieve the blissful state I was once able to at the age of thirteen? Have I lost my purity? Have I lost my innocence? Is there no hope for me?" And Carl looked at the man and said, "You idiot. Masters and Johnson proved over twenty years ago that boys have wet dreams because they're gyrating their hips against the mattress. You just don't remember it because you were asleep at the time. Now go home."

And he did. And the man sat down in his living room, put on the pornography he had just bought that evening, and proceeded to put quite a few touches on his penis over the course of the night. Because jerking off? It's a pretty good thing to do.