OP-ED: Why I Can Only Masturbate to the Canterbury tales

If you’ve ever heard an effectively pre-pubescent high school boy stutter through the prologue of The Canterbury Tales that he was forced to memorize by an English teacher somewhere along the line, then you’ll understand why Chaucer makes me wet. The middle English that sounds like a haunted nursery rhyme, men mounting horses, cuckoldry — what else could possibly be involved in your wildest sex fantasies? Everything else I've tried to masturbate to pales in comparison.

I’m the most dedicated student my medieval studies professor has ever taught — I take the material to bed, literally. If you’re not familiar, then you’re missing out. In “The Miller’s Tale,” a premodern fuckboy gets a hot poker shoved into his anus to teach him a lesson, someone kisses a woman’s asshole through an open window, and there are many comments about her bush. In “The Wife of Bath’s Tale,” we get to see how this woman literally fucks her old husbands to death — I think of this whenever I seek decrepit sugar daddies. If I’m feeling unmotivated by moments such as these, I find another tale to read, but sometimes my vibrator is so loud it’s hard to focus. 

Thinking of the dirty stench the bodies of these pilgrims let off as they rode across the English countryside adds an entirely new sensual element to my solo sexual experience. I love to think of the festering wounds on their bodies, their sweaty groins moistening their saddles, their vision of me as a subhuman creature — I wish you could hear me moan as I write this. Chaucer bathes all my veynes in his swich licóur. I'm so glad I stopped using Virgil to get off — middle English is much more intimate than classical Latin.

Ultimately, thinking about fucking in the Canterbury Cathedral is what finally gets me off. All those portraits of saints add a new element to having someone watch. They make me feel like smale foweles maken melodye. And in a church, you’re never alone — Jesus is with me as I fuck dirty medieval peasants on the stone floor of a sacred religious monument. I’ve never felt sexier.