The encounter with “the Angel” put me into a masturbation frenzy. My hobby increased from once a day to every chance I got. I became concerned that I would drain myself of genetic material and never have another orgasm at some point in the future and certainly never father a child. Still, every morning the monster would be waiting impatiently to be satisfied and there was no telling him NO. Eventually an event of drastic proportions would cause me to stop completely for a whole two days! I had a nocturnal emission, a wet dream and before I could do anything to cover or eliminate the evidence my mother discovered it. I plead innocent, confused, bewildered and said that I must have peed the bed but my explanation fell on deaf ears. I left for school that morning feeling like a doomed man awaiting execution. All was quiet and normal at home that evening, as if nothing had happened. Shortly after I had finished my homework and cut out the light that night my father knocked and came in. He sat beside the bed and we talked about sex! He did not lecture me, he talked with me. He said he knew that I masturbated and that it was perfectly normal. He did tell me though that it was better to avoid doing it every day. As he left he winked and asked a question which hit home. He asked if I was in control of my penis or if it was in control of me?
My plan of redemption was simple. I would sleep on my back and wear jockey shorts under my PJ’s so that if I had another wet dream the evidence would be on me, not on the bedsheets. I would arise quickly in the morning going about my normal morning tasks thus avoiding and ignoring the impatient monster. I would occupy my mind with thoughts other than women in general and “the Angel” in particular.