So I know most people masturbate in the shower or in the toilet but I've always done it in bed. I am living with my parents so I guess I just like the privacy of my room. Then - and this is what I now realize is me being a ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ weirdo - when it was time I would just pull up the blanket, roll over to the side a bit and ♥♥♥ onto the wall/below the bed. I never really thought much of it and it never smelled bad so I just kept doing it because it was easy... Nobody noticed and people seldom visited my room anyway. After some years of doing this I recently reached a few difficult points in my life and this exacerbated my masturbation habits. I used to only masturbate like once a week or so (maybe that's why it didn't smell?) but for a couple of weeks I started doing it every day, sometimes a few times a day. This usually wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary for a teenager but since I was always ejaculating on my wall/bed I began to get a bad cockroach infestation there. I didn't notice at first and since I've never had cockroaches before I didn't really know what they were but eventually I read up on the internet that cockroaches like to live in dark, moist places in the house and that made sense... At first I felt really disgusted. I wanted to exterminate them but I definitely didn't want my parents to find out what happened, so I tried to kill them by flicking them into a bowl of water and watching them drown. But then I felt really bad. I don't know why but it felt like murder. I didn't really dislike the cockroaches. I had never even seen cockroaches before and they were kind of interesting. So I decided to stop killing them and kind of just let them be for like a week (at this point I finally began masturbating in the shower). I know this sounds really weird but I kind of began thinking of them as my children. It started out as a joke-thought but then it got more serious. Like, they were literally borne out of my sperm... so in my mind it made sense that they were my offspring in a way. I actually want kids when I grow up. And this was kind of like that - I used to bring them food and stuff from the kitchen and play with them by moving them around the room or letting them crawl on me and I just got really emotionally attached to them for a while even though they were obviously just insects. Then my parents found out. I think my dad saw one in the kitchen and immediately freaked out and called the exterminator the same day while I was at school. So we had to move out for about a week to an Airbnb and I was really depressed the entire time but I couldn't tell them why. They thought I just didn't like the Airbnb.

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