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The unshakable feeling that, somewhere, somehow, the spirits of your dead relatives are watching you masturbate, normally to their everlasting disappointment in you.
In extreme cases, you also have the distinct impression that they are somehow psychically aware of all the disgusting, socially unacceptable things you fantasize about while you’re punching the munchkin, and you worry that none of them will ever speak to you after you die and have to show your face in the afterlife.
Well, we have some bad news for you. It’s all true, every word of it. You better hope you live forever, you creepy fuck, because Grandma ain’t none too pleased with your freaky, perverted ass. There ain’t gonna be no cookies and custard in the underworld, no sir. Just cold stares and disgusted frowns when your dearly departed loved ones find out just what a nasty, dirty, deviant weirdo you really are.
But if it’s any consolation to you, those of us here at Orgasm.com think you’re perfect just the way you are.
1. I was trying to rub one out last night, but ever since my great aunt Hazel died, it’s just be one long séance wank.
2. Pritchard is secretly aroused by incest, necrophilia, and exhibitionism. To him, a good séance wank is a perfect Saturday night.
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