It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around the concept of anyone thinking that masturbation is wrong. So I have this body, right? And it’s mine. But there are certain parts of it I’m not supposed to touch because if I do it might feel good. And that… would be bad.
I’m a post-op Trans Woman, I’ve had my new vagina for seven and a half months.
I just found the vibrator that works for me and had my first vaginal orgasm…
My shoulder is super sore and I can’t stop shaking… no regrets, so much self love and discovery!
Woohoo! Motherfucking internet high five!
I’m just wondering if I’m the only one who finds masturbation to be really boring. I mean, the few times I try I can’t focus on any fantasies or what-not, I get really bored, and I stop a few minutes later to watch funny videos or do something I find entertaining.
I guess I’m wondering if I’m normal, because all of the blogs I read give me the impression that I’M DOING SEXUALITY WRONG. Like, I get that masturbation is supposed to feel good and orgasms are awesome and “if you don’t use it, you lose it.” But I’m just not feeling it.
I feel like whenever anyone wonders if they’re the only one who does or does not do sex a certain way, the answer is always “absolutely damn not”. If anyone’s normal, which I doubt, pretty much everyone is. And people normally don’t maintain blogs dedicated to things they find boring, so bloggers like me who write about masturbating are generally going to be pro-masturbation, and get excited about masturbating, I should think. But it’s not for everyone, and that’s totally cool.
I made myself squirt today!
Apparently, masturbating a whole lot (by way of positioning myself in the shower so that one stream of water hits me juuuust right) and thinking about Jon Stewart whispering dirty dirty things in my ears while spanking me and biting me and/or doing other fun hitty things was all it took!
It wasn’t even intentional. But now that I know I can…well. Let’s just say I shall be happy to devote more time to exploring this phenomenon.
I love it when the most specific fantasies do the most particular things. It makes me feel like life is a fighting game with combos.
A little backstory: I have a tiny office in my university, shared by three other students. There’s a small window on the door, so someone nosy could peek in if they wanted. No outside windows. My desk is right next to the door, but the other two desks are behind dividers.
Last weekend I was doing some work in my office, and after a while I needed a break — consisting, of course, of reading sexy stories and touching myself through my jeans. I was pretty furtive about this, even though I was alone in the room, the door was closed, and someone would have to actually make a point of looking inside the window if they want to see anything interesting. (If you’re not in academia, you might be surprised at how many people — mostly grad students, but sometimes even faculty — work during the weekends and evenings.)
Eventually I got worked up enough that I wanted more than fingers. Heart racing, I turned off the lights, climbed on one of my colleague’s desks, unzipped my jeans, and slipped my balled-up sweater in between my legs. My favourite maturbatory position is facedown and humping something — I loved the feeling of my breasts pushed up against the hard wooden desk, and feeling my clit rub against something firm but with a bit of give, while I imagined my boyfriend pounding me from behind. I migrated to my fantasy of donning a strap-on, and fucking another girl with a vibrator inside of me. I could hear nearby office doors opening and closing, locking and unlocking, and it gave me the good kind of chills to be reminded exactly where I was — the person whose desk I was pleasuring myself on could have walked in at any time. I’m not remotely attracted to him, but the thought of him walking in and turning on the lights to find me, apparently a Good Girl, squirming and sweaty on his desk — GOD that pushed my buttons.
But here’s my favourite part of the act: my cheek was pressed against the cool wood of the desk, and my hot breath curled the papers next to my mouth. When I was done, I considered replacing the blank sheets of paper — but I kind of liked the mystery, the slight confusion it might cause, and the wonderful little secret of what exactly caused those sheets to curl. :)
I’ve never been more attracted to you. (I don’t think.)
I was house-sitting last week for a friend, who happened to own a removable showerhead. I quickly discovered that it was the most awesome thing EVER. Then I realized that it was leaking and I thought I broke it, but no– the head came off and all that was left was a tube with a stream of water. Once I turned the power of the water down a little, I realized I’d been wrong before: THAT was the most awesome thing ever. :D I hope the sound of the water drowned out anything her neighbors might have heard…
Access to removable showerheads is a human rights issue. I’m not saying it’s high on the list, but certainly the world will never be quite right until all of us who want them have them.
I was on a long plane ride this week and I was having a lot of trouble focusing on the work I needed to get done. So I waited for a quiet moment and took myself to the bathroom. I locked the door, undid my belt, and slid my hand into my underwear. I began to rub my clit and with the other hand I grabbed my breast. At first, I wasn’t sure I would be able to come, but the tension grew rapidly and soon I was wetter than wet and coming hard. After I caught my breath, I cleaned myself up, checked my hair and noticed the rosy glow in my cheeks. When I left the bathroom, I gave a big, cheeky grin to the hottie waiting outside the door.
I have mad respect for anyone who can feel sexy on an airplane. I normally just feel sleepy.
Not that I’d say no to an orgasm, to be fair.
I’m slowly coming to terms with my sexuality being, uh, strangely non-sexual when other people are involved. I’ve always considered myself bisexual, pretty much attracted to men and women equally. But while I love cuddling, fondling, making out… I don’t enjoy sex that much. Yes, there have been boring/bad sex partners, but there’s also been at least 1 great one, but even that doesn’t compare to just masturbating alone. I’d think I was actually a romantic asexual, but, damn, I love masturbating, watching porn, thinking/reading about sex… Sexuality can be so confusing!
Sexuality can be wonderfully varied and confusing and fancy! And I suspect if all the spectra had more visibility, we’d find that romantic asexuals who like to masturbate and fondle are not that terribly uncommon. But you’d still be fancy.