I think my addiction started in my early and middle teen years. I didn’t have a great amount of confidence in myself and was extremely nervous around the girls in my class. While the ‘in’ kids were talking about going to the movies and roller skating, I knew I would be staying home and just felt more comfortable there. I was socially awkward, always saying inappropriate things unrelated to conversations that my peers were engaged in. It was humiliating to myself when I was out with them. But I knew if I stayed home, I could take all of my clothes off and touch my body (loved touching my boy nipples, my penis and putting some times in my rectum – like an old toothbrush). Then I could get out the baby oil, pour it all over my penis, grab my penis in my right hand, and use my left palm to go round and round on the top of my penis until it felt so good that the white stuff came out again. That gave me emotional comfort and physical pleasure. When you condition yourself with that kind of emotion, the brain makes some connections that become nearly impossible to erase. Hence, today, while I am married, my wife and I do not sleep in the same bed (which is fine with me) and I get to touch with myself all of the time. Pretty sad when you choose masturbator instead of making a physical and emotion connection with another human being. Few things in life more pleasurable than seeing your seed leave your body when ejaculating. That’s not possible during penetrative intercourse with another human being.