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ADVENTURES IN MASTURBATION

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ADVENTURES IN MASTURBATION by M. SIRK (pandora_press@hotmail.com)I have a pretty good life, but the best I ever feel is when I'm masturbating. Masturbation is like a wonderful drug that I've been addicted to for almost my whole life. I learnt to masturbate early. I can remember my first orgasm, when I was about five or six. It happened quite spontaneously as I was standing looking through my wardrobe. I remember this strange, pleasant, shuddery sensation in my groin, and feeling wetness in my pants. Most of my early orgasms happened at moments of embarrassment, or where I thought I was going to get into trouble. I was always really fascinated by my penis (my mother called it my 'jigger') and used to play with it in bed, pushing my balls back into my body and so on. It wasn't long before I realised that by pulling it I could produce this delightful sensation and make the creamy stuff come out of it. I had heard of the word 'masturbation' and knew there was something shameful about it, and I soon connected it with me playing with my dick. I remember looking it up in the dictionary and finding the definition 'self abuse', which puzzled me. From the start I liked to masturbate while looking at images of women. It was only rarely that I came upon any genuine porn. Once, while we were on holiday in New Zealand, I remember finding some pages of a porn mag featuring Maori girls (one of the images is burned in my memory, a girl lying naked on a lounge, a red flower in her pussy). Occasionally other boys would produce some porn at school, and I would try to get as good a look at it as I could. But I usually had to rely on mainstream magazines for images of nude females. Luckily Mum came to the rescue with her collection of women's magazines, Cosmopolitan and the like, which she kept under her bed, along with a few erotic novels like Emmanuelle. This being the late '60s/early '70s, these were full of nudity. At this stage I was mostly interested in women's breasts. Whenever I was alone in the house I would go into my parents' bedroom and pull the magazines from under the bed and masturbate as I leafed through them. I will never forget some of these images, in particular one ad featuring multiple photos of a girl showering, her breasts pear-shaped and perfect. My other source for masturbatory imagery was the TV. At the time nudity was still fairly rare on television, and I treasured any brief glimpses of it I saw. Whenever I saw a film featuring female nudity, I'd make a mental note of where it came in the film. Then, if it was repeated, and I was able to watch it in privacy, I'd wank to it, timing my orgasm for when the nude scene came on. By the age of 10 I was masturbating two or three times a day. After school I would go into my bedroom, shut the door, and lie on my bed to read. At some point my hand would slip into my pants. Sometimes Mum would burst in and I'd have to pull my hand out hastily and look innocent. I'm sure she sometimes realised what I was doing (and one day I'm sure I heard her and Dad talking about my activities). I was still quite ashamed of masturbating and occasionally made attempts to stop, but I never could. My usual masturbation position was to lie on my right side and pull my cock with my right hand. Occasionally I would experiment with different techniques. Once I made a hole in an apple, coated it with moisturiser (I'd read about this somewhere) to create a fake vagina. I liked to wank in front of a mirror, so I could enjoy the sight of my own perversion. On a number of occasions I took a padded coathanger, covered it with plastic and rubbed soap onto it for a lubricant, and used it as a makeshift dildo, sticking it up my arse as I jerked off. All this emission of semen caused a disposal problem. At first I would just wank into a handkerchief, but I used my father's handkerchiefs and noticed one day, to my embarrassment, that I was leaving stains on them. (I remember well standing washing handkerchiefs in salty water in the bathroom sink, having heard somewhere that salt would eliminate the stains). After that I'd squirt my spunk into bits of paper, or run my dripping hand along the back of my bedside table, which became streaked with caramel-coloured dried cum. Semen is considered a magical substance in many cultures, and I undoubtedly thought along similar lines. I was fascinated by the way, when it came into contact with water (as I found when wanking in the bath) it became a jelly-like substance which, when left, slowly dissolved into water. I did weird little rituals with my sperm. Once I got a cylindrical plastic pill container, put some semen in it along with the sap out of a tree, and buried it underneath our house beneath a slab of concrete. I supposed some weird chemical reaction would occur, but I never recovered it to see what had happened. It's probably still there. During summer school holidays, I liked to sunbathe in the backyard. Sometimes, when there was no-one else home, I'd slip my swimming trunks off and sunbathe naked. I loved the feeling of the sun on my bare cock and balls, and would wank myself, thinking that the neighbours might see me through the gaps in the fence, or my mother might come home early and find me. The idea of being caught was frightening and exciting. The most daring thing I did at this time was when we went for a holiday on a farm. There was a creek running along the farmhouse, in a ravine so that it couldn't be seen from the house. I took to swimming naked in it. At the time I had a mad crush on an older girl called Margot, whose father owned the farm, and whom I had met on our first day there. I used to write little message to her on stones, then masturbate while fantasising about her. I'd finish by squirting sperm on them and throwing them into the river. Eventually I plucked up the courage to buy a porn mag. I vividly remember buying my first one, a copy of Penthouse in 1978. I couldn't wait to get back home, shut myself in my bedroom and wank to it. This was the first opportunity I'd had to look closely at spread shots of woman. I remember being quite surprised, even a little put-off, seeing what a cunt and its intricate pink folds really looked like, but then I got used to the sight and wanted to see more. I think cunts are beautiful and a girl never looks better than when her legs are spread wide open. I had soon built up a big collection of porn mags, including some hardcore ones showing people fucking. One of my favourites was a European magazine called Sex Bizarre, which showed a girl and two guys pissing on each other and into each other's mouths. This was a fantasy I later indulged in with my second girlfriend. I also frequented sex shops occasionally, going into the booths to watch movies and wank (I felt sorry for the guy whose job was to clean them though). My porn purchasing soon took on a regular pattern. Every couple of months I'd feel the need to see new images - to have another fix. I'd head into town, to one of the bookshops which sold second-hand porn mags and leaf through their plastic-wrapped stock, terrified all the while that someone who knew me would come in. Having selected five or six promising looking publications I'd go to the counter - after ascertaining there was a man serving behind it - and hand them over, looking as relaxed as I possibly could. I'd always try to give the exact amount - I didn't want him to see my hand shaking as I was given change, and I didn't want to sense any reluctance on his part to touch my hand - the hand of a masturbator. With my purchases safely tucked away I'd head for home, a journey which could never be completed quickly enough. Once there, I'd lie on my bed or on the floor, on my right side, with my new treasures spread out in front of me. Pulling my pants down, I'd take hold of my cock with my right hand and, leafing through the mags, begin to wank. When I had been though all the magazines I'd open them to the image in each one I had found most exciting, and poring over these, bring myself to orgasm. I was very shy when I was young, and I never had a girlfriend until I went to university. I'd never even kissed a girl properly in fact. All of that changed in a hurry one night when I was at a party with a fellow student of mine named Louise, whom I'd always fancied. I'm not sure how it happened but we started kissing in a hallway and I ran my hand under her jumper and felt he lovely breasts through her bra - the first time I had felt a girl's breasts. Half an hour later I was undressing her in the back of her car. I kissed her tits eagerly then moved down to her cunt. Having seen so many in photographs I couldn't wait to feel one for real. I really loved the smell of it, and the taste - for I instinctively went down on her, and I loved the way I could till smell her on my hand the next day. A few months later I had moved into a house with her. Louise was a beautiful girl with long brown brown hair, brown eyes, sensitive olive skin and large, shapely breasts with puffy, pale brown nipples. We were fucking constantly for the first few months, and I thought I'd never have to masturbate again. But then the urge returned. I began to buy porno mags again and hide them away. I realised that, although she loved sex, Louise was quite straight and there were things I wanted to do which she wouldn't go along with, in particular anal sex. The other thing I started to do was use Louise as a masturbation object. I suppose it's a common fantasy for men to have an unconscious woman whom they can do what they want with. Louise and I both drank a lot when we were together, and she would often fall into a heavy sleep after we had been out partying or whatever. I would uncover her tits, or spread her legs wide, and masturbate while looking at her. But it was her arse which I paid most attention to. When we had sex it was only on a few occasions that I dared to lick her arsehole (I could tell it made her uncomfortable) but when she was asleep I had no such qualms. I would lift back her nightie or pull down her pyjama bottoms, spread her buttocks and gaze at her lovely anus, the skin of which was grey and shiny. Taking in its musty smell I would begin to lick it, pushing my tongue into it as far as I could, masturbating furiously all the while. Usually I would end by coming onto her arsehole and then rubbing my sperm into it. One night I took a photo of Louise's arse with my Polaroid camera. It's a close-up with my left hand on her left buttock, spreading her bum open, and my erect cock pointing at her hole. I still take it out and masturbate to it when I'm thinking about Louise. One day Louise came home from work with a vibrator she had acquired in a roundabout way. It was pink and took the form of an turbanned oriental figure, with another, smaller figure sitting in front of him - an extension designed to massage the clitoris. When you turned it on, it vibrated and writhed slowly around. I thought it was one of the most ridiculous things I had ever seen but one night, while we were fucking, I brought it out of the wardrobe and slid it into Louise's cunt and found I enjoyed fucking her with it, and she enjoyed it too. One day, I found the vibrator under our bed. Picking it up, I noticed that it was coated with some dried stuff which was flaking off. Suddenly I realised what had happened. It was dried pussy juice, left on there after Louise had used it to masturbate. The knowledge that she also masturbated absolutely thrilled me. I imaged her lying alone in our bed, pushing the vibrator in and out of her pussy, her back arching until she had made herself come. My next girlfiend after Louise, who I'm still with, is much more open-minded and experimental about sex. She's quite happy to let me fuck her up the arse, fist her, tie her up and spank her while I fuck her, and do a lot of other things to her too. She's also bisexual, and on three occasions we've taken other girls to bed with us. She's let me fuck a lot of girls while we've been together, while she's had a couple of affairs too. Best of all she's an exhibitionist. She loves to strip off while I masturbate (it's a real pleasure being able to masturbate in front of someone else) and to pose for porno photos with her cunt spread open or my cock in her mouth. Once I asked her if I could come onto her face, and she said yes. I stood with my cock an inch from her face and began to wank myself, rubbing the tip of it over her cheeks, lips and mouth until, feeling I was about to come, I moved back a little and shot a thick dollop of spunk onto her face, a lovely sight. After we fuck, if she hasn't already come, or if she wants a second orgasm, I finger-fuck her as I learned to do with Louise, rubbing her vulva and clitoris, kissing her and sucking on her nipples until she comes. (Making a girl come like this is, I have to say, almost as pleasurable to me as having an orgasm myself.) My girlfriend's an expert at wanking me too. Sometimes I straddle her and she pulls my stiff prick until my sperm shoots onto her breasts. More usually, however, I lie on my side on the bed, with a handkerchief spread out beside me to catch the sperm. She takes hold of my prick and begins to tug it (sometimes she pours oil onto it beforehand). I tell her to squeeze it as hard as she could, to not worry about hurting me, and she grips the shaft and pulls on me hard, her other hand grasping my balls and twisting them around. I have my eyes closed, thinking filthy thoughts, but the most exciting thought is that she is about to watch me ejaculate. "I'm about to come," I say, turning my hips so she gets a good view, and we watch, and I watch her watching, as the spunk shoots out of me, an act fulfilling itself. It usually misses the hankie completely. She was also happy to indulge my piss fetish, pissing onto my cock and into my mouth as I wanked myself ecstatically. Meanwhile I continue to masturbate in private. For years I've experimented with different masturbation techniques. Sometimes I tie up my cock after it's hardened so that the blood is trapped in it and it bulges and turns purple, the veins sticking out on the shaft like cords (I have also fucked with my cock tied like this). One day I shaved all the hair off my balls and the base of my cock, and was pleased with the increase in sensation that this brought about (another bonus was that when I was shaved my girlfriend would take my balls in her mouth and suck them). After a couple of days the hair growing back would make my balls itch, but I found this quite pleasant and gave me an erection when walking. I also began to experiment with cock torture. My usual technique was to stand in front of the bathroom mirror, wanking until I was hard, then tie a cord tightly around the base of my scrotum. I would then fasten laundry pegs and bulldog clips to the engorged flesh until the skin became so tight I couldn't get any more on (I found that a bulldog clip, fastened lengthwise along the base of the shaft, just behind the 'V' of the glans, particularly pleasurable). Taking hold of the ends of the cord which bound my genitals I would tug on it so my stinging cock and balls, heavily weighted with the clips and pegs, would bounce slowly up and down, my glans as red and shiny as an apple, the pain, especially of the bulldog clips, quite intense, until the spunk shot powerfully out of me and spattered in the sink. On other occasions I would tie up my prick and slap it with my leather belt until both cock and balls were red and stinging. When we were fucking, I'd get my girlfriend to treat my cock roughly, which she was happy to do. When I was young, as I have mentioned, I was (with a few exceptions I have noted) quite modest. I didn't like the idea of anyone seeing my dick. Whenever I saw a photo of a man with his cock showing, I would feel embarrassed for him. I remember reading about an experimental film maker named Stan Brakhage who made a film of himself masturbating, and being shocked that he would do such a thing. One day Louise tried to take a polaroid of me as I lay naked on our bed, and I cupped my hand over my genitals so that nothing showed in the picture she finally took. But slowly my feelings about this began to change. I began to fantasise about being naked in public places. My first steps in this direction came on an overseas holiday, when my girlfriend and I were staying in a room without its own bath. The bathroom we had to use was on the second floor, a big white painted room with a bath and shower over it, and a large window, overlooking a fairly busy street, which was always kept open. While standing up and having a shower, there would have been a direct line of vision between you and the street - where people could be seen walking about 30 metres away - had there not been affixed to the wall on a hinge a pane of marbled glass by which, swinging it towards you, you could hide yourself. As I stepped in to have a shower on my first day there, I instinctively moved the glass to cover myself, but as I was washing I thought about what it would be like to shower without doing this. The idea frankly terrified me. What if someone saw me and then complained to the police, and they came to the hotel to make inquiries and - my paranoia running high here - I was thrown out of the country? Rather unlikely, I knew, but still possible, and the possibility was both frightening and exciting. That night, as I lay in bed, I made up my mind I was going to do it. Next morning I arrived in the bathroom, a towel around my waist and my throat dry. I pushed the glass screen flat against the wall and, behaving as nonchalantly as possible, stepped into the bath and turned on the water. I began to wash my hair, my back against the window, then turned around so that my cock was perfectly visible from the street. When I saw people walking along the pavement I had a powerful urge to turn around or cover myself, but I fought against it. When I had finished washing I stepped out of the bath and towelled myself dry, walking past the window as I did so, then squatting on the floor I thought about what I had just done and wanked until I came. I repeated this every day I was at the hotel. I don't know if anyone saw me. One evening I was walking home from work when I was overcome by a feeling of lust. I stopped and looked around. There were lights on in the houses but I couldn't see anyone, and there were no cars on the road. I unzipped my pants and pulled my cock out. Feeling both scared and excited I continued to walk down the street with my cock hanging out. I passed houses with their doors open, whose occupants, had they been looking out of them at the moment I passed, could have seen me like this. I have repeated this act many times. When I do it now, I begin by going to a secluded spot where I take my cock out and masturbate until I'm hard. I ease my balls out of my pants too, so that my genitals are entirely outside my clothing. I walk along, my stiff cock bobbing up and down. If a car approaches, or I see someone up ahead, I momentarily cover myself with my briefcase. At some point I stop and masturbate until I come. One night, after alcohol had given me courage, I stripped naked, went to the front door and opened it. It was about three o'clock in the morning and my girlfriend was asleep in the bedroom. I stepped out, walked to the front gate, and looked up and down the street. It was brightly lit by street lights but very quiet, with no lights showing in the houses. Up at the end of the street, the occasional car drove past. I opened the gate and stepped onto the pavement. It was the first time I had ever been completely naked out in the open like this, and I found it exhilarating. I began to pull my cock, turning this way and that. I thought about people looking out their windows and seeing this pervert, and calling the police, and how risky it was doing this right outside my house, but that made it more exciting. So far I had been shielded by parked cars to some extent, but now I walked past them and stood in the middle of the street with my feet apart (I remember the feeling of the road under my bare feet), my cock really stiff now, and wanked unashamedy until I came, my sperm hitting the road with a loud 'splat!' I have since ventured out naked like this several times. In my boldest effort, I walked right to the end of my street, past some twenty houses, masturbating all the way. I came to a factory with a chain link fence and stuck my cock through it (I remember the rough feeling of the wire on the base of my balls). The other way that my exhibitionism has manifested itself to tell other people about my sexual experiences. I wrote it all up in a sexual memoir I called 'Pornographic Mind', a completely honest account of my sex life with detailed descriptions of my various perversions and fetishes (which I have only touched on here) and the different girls I've fucked. I photocopied it and bound it into a little booklet illustrated with photos including the one of Louise's arsehole and one of my girlfriend spreading her cunt. I went around the city, leaving copies in bookshops among the sex books and porno mags. I lay in bed at night masturbating, thinking of strangers reading my most intimate secrets. The only frustrating thing was the booklet was necessarily anonymous, and I wanted to get feedback from people who had read it. The internet remedied that. I posted a note on a number of sex sites, saying I would send my memoir to anyone who asked for it, and inviting comments. I have also posted pornographic pics of me and my girlfriend on a number of sites. She has no idea that I have done this, that at any minute of the day there may be guys looking at photos of her pink, shaved, wide-open cunt.(I love it when guys email and say they've wanked to her photos). And if I can't walk around in public with my cock hanging out of my pants, the next best thing is to have photos of it on the net for everyone to see. I have looked at so much pornography in my life, and derived so much enjoyment from it, it's great to be able to make some for others to enjoy.

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