At precisely 11:59 PM GMT, I press "play" on my sound system, a CD containing a masterful rendition of Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries" prepares to play at ear-shattering volumes. I strip the glove quickly before the CD begins, throwing it hastily out of sight. Should I fail to throw it far enough, I must stop the CD player before the pre-arranged five second silence is finished. That day, there will be no pleasure.
Should the glove be out of sight and out of mind, all is well. I sit back, and let the vibrations of sound finish the job. I stare at the only image that has yet fulfilled my criteria for arousal, and a glorious geyser of semen erupts from my penis, splattering every which way in the room. I sit in a half-conscious daze of joy for nearly half an hour before I prepare for the hour-long task of cleansing my computer room once again.
Even as I finish up, I hear the fading whispers in my delusional mind from the image which I stare at so deeply.
Now if you'll pardon me, I shall take my leave and indulge myself in delicious pudding confectionaries before it is time for self-pleasure.