I was an unattractive young girl in a catholic school system. I didn't have any dates or much of a social life through high school and while I listened to friends talk about boys and sex I didn't usually believe all that the girls were telling me. Church was important for my family and as I matured I tried hard to ignore any feelings of arousal. But try as I did evenings were often difficult, especially just before my periods. I often woke up in the middle of the night with my hands pressed against myself. When this happened I usually resisted temptation but sometimes when I turned onto my tummy to try to go back to sleep I would find myself pressing my hips against the blankets and rocking back and forth. Sometimes this would lead to an orgasm which I always worried about and confessed to the parish priest.
In college I had a roommate who was quite open about masturbating. She would often touch herself at night while I was trying to sleep and listening to the sounds that she made always resulted in my own arousal.
Sometimes I would wait until I thought that she had fallen asleep and then bring myself to a climax just as I did when I was younger, by bunching up a blanket between my legs and grinding against it.
One morning when I was getting ready for class she told me that she could hear my breathing when I masturbated and that I should not be so sneaky about it. She asked me why I didn't just let myself go when she was doing it and suggested that the experience would be sexy. I laughed and told her that I could never do anything like that but I secretly wished to try it.
When I graduated from college I entered a convent to become a sister. Somehow I imagined that a life of prayer and service might help me to get in control of my desires. Each of the sisters had a tiny private room with a small single bed and a desk. As I settled into a new routine I began to notice the unmistakeable sounds of women masturbating in the evening hours. I would lie in bed struggling with my own feelings of arousal and hear other women in the rooms around me as their beds creaked. The woman in the cubicle next to me was even louder than my college roommate had been and more frequent. Few evenings passed without my hearing her urgent breathing, followed by the gasping sounds of an orgasm.
Then as I began to pay more attention I could hear several of the women moving about and doors opening and closing. The whispering sounds that came from some of the rooms in the middle of the night told me that several of the women that I was living with were having affairs with each other. The sexually charged atmosphere made it almost impossible for me to control my own urges and soon I was masturbating almost every night. As I did I began to have fantasies about what who was doing and even began to dream about some of the other ladies who were staying in the rooms close to me.
Finally my noisy next door roommate stepped into my room one evening just before bedtime to tell me that she had been listening to me through the walls. At the time I was 22 and she was 33. I told her how hard I had been trying to control myself and she explained that the same thing had happened to her and that masturbating was a normal release especially for the younger women and that I should not feel guilty about it. Then she asked me to be even louder when I did it so that she could hear me as she masturbated. It all reminded me of my college roommate who I often had regretted not being more open with.
That evening as I listened to her in the next room I let myself go and became more noisy. Our beds were along the same wall and as I touched myself I could feel her masturbating just inches away but seperated by a thin wall. She and I became good friends and even began to masturbate in front of each other in her room. She liked to use baby oil as she touched herself and eventually I began to do the same. Masturbating in the open with her and using oil raised the level of my arousal to an amazing new level.
After several months of this relationship, I dropped out of the sisters, got a job and found an apartment. That was 30 years ago and since then I have become comfortable with my own sexuality. I masturbate regularly without guilt and my former roommate from the convent has also dropped out and become a good friend. It is now clear to me that we are both gay and that I was always a lesbian. We see each other and sometimes sleep together.