I can't help but reply to Thomas' stories about Amy's denials. Some of my sexual life is related to his but much richer. I'm a masturbation addict, affairs with my brother's, other girls/women, but masturbation is the best.
With great interest I read Thomas' stories regarding his wife's denials that she masturbates, or at least seldom masturbates. I'm a very private person to begin with, 34 years old and married to a pastor who teaches at a seminary in the Midwest. We have no children and really never wanted any at all. I started masturbating in 4th grade and thought that it was the most wonderful thing to do. This was an almost daily routine for me all through high school and college. There's no doubt that I'm a masturbation addict and prefer it over sex except for one thing...I also enjoy the intimacy with my partner...that wonderful warmth and attachment that lengthens the afterglow.
I like Thomas’ attitude as well dealing with his wife’s denials (basically lying) but evidentially loving her enough to overlook what could be a breaking point in their intimacy and ultimately marriage. He has made the best out of his situation by stimulating his own eroticism but allowing Amy to save face from what I consider a possible unfounded fear that masturbation is bad. Enough psycho-babble.
My husband is good, intimate, loyal, and (too) pure. He caught me masturbating during the first year of our marriage and had a fit, but I calmed him down with a gentle warm touch on his large manhood and soon he was squirting all over the place. After that, we masturbated together a couple times a month, especially when I was having my period and I denied I did it any other time for the sake of peace.
When I felt particularly mean, I would shove a small bottle up my vagina, sit at the table for breakfast with him and slowly ease my hand under my house robe and tickle my clit. I kept the conversation going while he read the paper not knowing what was going on right under his nose. Why he couldn’t detect my musky odor, I don’t have a clue, but he is often clueless. With my other hand, I’d eat my eggs and fruit as if nothing was happening, occasionally bringing up a wet finger to smell (oh I do love my smell!). The first time, I excused myself for more toast, went to the kitchen and silently finished myself off, holding my mouth closed to keep from sighing too loud. It took three weeks of practising a straight face while I climaxed to finally pull it off in front of him. Gosh I love doing that, especially if he just wants a quickie (yes Thomas, he does that too) and my pussy is flooded with his cum and my wetness.
Three years later, he caught me again. I was in the garage sorting through some plant stakes and found a particularly thick one which I eased up my pussy and was going for a quick one. I was on my knees, bucking and spasming when I noticed a shadow cross the window but it was way too late to stop My hope was that he would accept my explanation that I just got really horny and needed relief, but he chided me and insisted that he could take care of that himself. This time he was adamant that we stay celibate from masturbation and save it for ourselves but also thought that it was still OK during my period. Yes I was ticked and promptly went to the bathroom, pulled down my shorts and wet panties and masturbated again. By the way, I really like the word frigging for some reason. It just sounds neat.
As I said, I’m 34, a lithe 5’5”, 118 lb, small boobs, and not even that perky (genetic…ugh!). Also not very attractive in the face and because of that, hardly dated in high school. Like Amy, my hump is high on my pelvis and I have a long, big pussy slit with thick, meaty lips and an ample clitoris…bigger than Amy’s I must add. It grew extensively my last two years of college and the next two years when I also took anabolic steroids to add some weight and muscle on my thin frame. As I was growing up, masturbation was my outlet but with two older brothers, privacy was at a premium in our house. Fortunately their bedrooms were in the remodelled basement…fortunate in many ways.
The bathroom and my own room were my frequent places and I started discovering that special feeling between my legs when I was in 4th grade. My bedroom provided a place to discover what felt good, insertion of pens and markers, watching myself in a hand mirror, how fast and how slowly to go. Before my periods, my fingers were busy on my pussy at least twice a day in bed and I’ll have to admit that after a while, I couldn’t get to sleep without masturbating first. That hasn’t changed, even now.
Tyler is 3 years older and Matthew 4 years older and I was picked on mercilessly by them, but they were wonderful brothers to have. So I was in the summer of 6th grade, mom and dad were working and all three of us were home doing housework. Who knows who started what, but all three of us began wrestling around in the basement, arms, legs and bodies everywhere when I found myself on my back pinned between my brothers and straddling Tyler’s leg, who was on top. No matter how I struggled, I was completely trapped and they were too busy going at each other to take much notice of their much weaker, flailing sister.
Then it happened. Tyler’s leg hit that special spot on a girl’s pussy and I was in instant pleasure, wrapping my legs around his and gasping for air. I had an orgasm right there on my brother’s leg as he kept tossing and pushing, fighting his older brother, who kept pushing me up against Tyler’s leg. Uh, uh, uh I gasped and they finally realized they were crushing my breath away and rolled off leaving me beet red, breathless and totally embarrassed. After hearing many sincere apologies, I went to my room to recover and think about what had just happened.
I slid my hand under my panties and was met with a hot, soaking wet pussy. Not wanting to ignore my clit, my finger grazed it and bolts of pleasure went through my pussy and stomach. A few minutes later, I was enjoying a second orgasm which rocked me almost unconscious. I had discovered a memory that would stay with me until this day and provided a stimulus for probably hundreds of orgasms.
My dad came home one day my senior year and I found him busy in the upstairs bathroom attaching a new showerhead that looked very strange. He said it was able to change the water spray so that it massaged your mother’s back and neck. OK then, but how do I work it? He took the head off, turned on the water and the familiar shower spray came out. Simple, he said.
Not long afterwards, I heard both mom and dad in the bathroom giggling and moaning and a weird sound of shower water. Long ago I discovered that the attic vent looked right down into their bedroom, so I was more than familiar with their lovemaking and it sounded kind of the same. That night, I decided a shower was necessary, so I slipped into the shower and studied the showerhead which appeared complicated with all those holes. I’m not mechanical at all, so it took several minutes to discover that the large plastic ring rotated and then the “aha” moment.
On went the water and I turned the ring to all possible settings finally settling on the pulse…seemed obvious to me and there was a tingling in my pussy that urged me on. I wasted no time at placing the stream against my clit and WOW! INTENSE! It was much more than I could stand and I instantly backed off wondering how to control this thing which was accomplished by adjusting the water pressure. Then another try at it and I still found it very intense, so I pointed it a little above my clit. This brought a very pleasurable pulsing water stream that caused me to climax in a matter of seconds almost bending me over on the floor. It was like I had discovered masturbating all over again. Two more times that pulsing warm water pleased me and perhaps I could’ve gone for more, but I had already spent a questionably long period of time in the shower. This thing was wonderful! After college, I have always made sure that I had a pulsing showerhead of some sort in every place I lived. Women (and maybe men), don’t pass this up because it’s wonderful in many respects.
College was different and I seemed more acceptable there as I developed more angular features, high cheek bones, and controlled my hair better. Still masturbated daily and I found many places private enough not to get caught…well almost. My favorite place was a long walk in the woods surrounding the southern Indiana campus overlooking the Ohio River. Beautiful vista view that evidently inspired me sensually because I could feel the itchy, wetness starting even as I got onto the walking trail. I found a secluded place but had to go through some thick bushes to get there which usually made me hot and sweaty and ready to drop my panties and feel the breeze blow through my thighs.
The first climax was usually while I was standing and pretty fast, maybe taking a couple minutes. But then I’d sit against a tree, rest and take in the view and start over again. The breeze would harden my pussy lips and partially dry the wetness from the first orgasm, but soon warmth would engulf me and soften everything up except my clit, which stays hard and erect for a long time, even after a good orgasm. It’s nice to take your time, edge up to a climax, wait until the urge subsides, then start again. For me the second orgasm is usually more intense.
This is all I have time for right now, but if Thomas keeps submitting, I would like to keep responding. I have enjoyed my rich sensual upbringing.