I have a confession. I didn’t start masturbating until two years ago, and I did it because I was ordered to do it by my Dom. And I didn’t start masturbating for myself until this past summer. This goes hand-in-hand, or hand-in-vagina, with the fact that I never actually gazed upon my vagina until fairly recently as well.
Both my girlfriend, Liri, and Nikki tell me stories about being fairly young and discovering the joy of masturbation. Not me. I didn’t know anything about it, and I wasn’t curious enough to find out. I don’t think I was repressed… I just didn’t think about it very much at all. I thought it was something that boys needed to do.
When I did think about my vagina and the pleasure that could accompany it, I always related it to what happened when there was a cock in it. I suppose you could say that I made up for the lack of masturbation with sex, but the sad reality was that I didn’t realize I could pleasure myself for the sheer joy of doing it for myself. And it only took me thirty *cough* years to have that epiphany.
The first time I masturbated on my own was last spring. I was doing it without permission, and I felt devious–excited and a little bit guilty. I fantasized about Liri. We weren’t dating at the time, but I imagined her walking up the steps to my bedroom. I imagined her finding me naked and spread-eagle on the bed, already wet and wanting her. But then my vision dissipated as my focus shifted to what was happening to my body. This was also the first time I had a clitoral orgasm, and I think it literally knocked my knee socks off.
Have you ever just laid in bed and tried to see how many different ways you can make yourself orgasm? Oh, that’s just me? Well, I make no apologies. I orgasm differently with partners than I do by myself, and I bought a new vibrator to experiment with the ways I can come. As much as I love fucking the people I adore, I also glory in the time I take for myself. The exploration of my body and its amazing capabilities… that’s what gets me off. A lot.