Masturbating With a Disability

Posted by: Author: Age: 31 Posted on: 1 comments
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From birth, I have had a physical disability that affects every movement I make. I first started getting erections around 11 or 12 and discovered the fun of masturbation shortly after. It also meant a lot of work to learn to shower and dress myself without help, partly to avoid my parents seeing me erect and partly to gain the privacy I needed to engage in my new hobby. If my parents suspected my quest for independence was anything other than a normal teenage desire for privacy, they didn't say. Living with my parents until my mid-twenties did put constraints on my masturbation activities, but from the stories I have read here I was fairly typical.



Moving into my own home lead to my own sexual revolution. With curtains drawn and doors locked I could get naked, download pictures, stories and later videos and masturbate to my hearts (penis'?) content! As my confidence in my own independence and sexuality increased I acquired lubricants and toys and condoms to experiment with, and have had some mind-blowing orgasms along the way. There is nothing like lying naked on your own bed, breathless, drenched in cum and sweat and an overwhelming post orgasmic bliss. Not having to worry about cleaning up before someone walks in on you.



My favourite technique has not changed much from my mid-teens. I lie in bed on my weak side, so my good arm is free to stroke my penis. I am not circumcised so I can use my foreskin to slide my hand up and down shaft without needing lubricant. My thumb rests on the underside of my penis, not on top, so that it stimulates the sensitive area below my urethra with each stroke. My knees and hips are bent at right angles, with knees apart, as if they were straddling a partner. I have discovered that the way I hold my legs has a large impact on the intensity of my orgasm.



I was mainstreamed from my second year at school, meaning I went to the regular neighbourhood school and attended the same classes as everyone else. As a teenager I found that any girls who did talk to me were going out of their way to make small talk with the guy in the wheelchair. Apart from a realization that all of the girls around me were developing breasts and an all consuming desire to see, feel, fondle, suck and bury my face in them, I could not make any connection with them. In high school I met a girl who saw past my disability, and through her I learnt how to talk to and form friendships with woman. Since then I have had some wonderful and long lasting friendships with woman.



Unfortunately, I have never being able to translate those friendships into relationships. Friends that I become interested in value our friendship too much to try a relationship, and being up front about the possibility of a relationship from the outset is a remarkably effective way to scare women off. The only women who acknowledge that I am a sexual creature are safely ensconced in their own relationships. I suspect the safety afforded to them by being unavailable is the only reason they can make that acknowledgement.



In my early twenties I developed a secondary and degenerative neurological condition, which eventually led to me losing my hard won ability to shower and dress myself, among many other skills. I have lost count of the number of care attendants that have seen me naked, washed and dried me, and on too many occasions tactfully ignored my erection as they work. If I couldn't find a willing partner before, what are my chances as I become more dependent?



I never thought I would hire a sex worker, believing that it was intimacy that I wanted, physical and emotional, rather than the physical experience of sex. A combination of loneliness, fear over my deteriorating abilities, and a belief that I would not be able to arrange an encounter for much longer led me to change my mind.



Having a woman undressing in front of me in my bedroom created an odd combination of feelings. Disbelief over the circumstances and that I had created them, and the delicious excitement of seeing a female body and the tingling anticipation of what was to happen. By the time she had stripped and was helping me undress I had a decent erection. Her breasts, which looked big in the tight top she was wearing, seemed even bigger exposed. Her pussy was a thin slit between her legs, and shaved except for a tuft of hair above it, which suggested she was a natural blonde. I watched every movement of those wonderful tits as we lay down on the bed together.



The initial excitement was quickly replaced with awkwardness, affecting both of us. For my part I was unsure about what the fee allowed me to do and asked before each action. My nervousness and concern that I might be too rough did nothing for my coordination, but having gone this far I was determined to get a feel. She endured my clumsy groping of her breasts; I was surprised at their weight and how big they were. Not having any emotional attachment I had no problem enquiring about their size and discovered they were DD, with small nipples and pale areolas.



I had hoped she would take some initiative in stimulating me, but instead lay there passively until I asked her to fondle my scrotum and testicles. Not having had anyone stroke my erection before I was afraid I would cum instantly if she touched that.



I asked if I could touch her 'down there' and lowered my hand to her groin. My fingers explored her outer lips for a while before I burrowed a finger in deeper in search of her vagina. I am not sure whether it was discomfort at my probing, or the confused look on my face, but she realized that I couldn't find my target and reached down to guide one of my fingers into her. After years of studying images of splayed pussys and watching video of women inserting all kinds of objects in themselves, I couldn't find her vagina on my own! Once my finger was inside her I was surprised how tight and fleshy it felt. I wiggled my finger around, afraid to thrust it in deeper, and felt wetness. Withdrawing, I ran my finger along her crack and found a hard nub, her clitoris. At least I located that on my own.



Embarrassed and frustrated with my exploration of her body, I rolled on to my back and asked her to play with my penis, pulling back my foreskin in preparation. She squirted some lubricant on her hand and grasped the head of my erection with her fingertips and thumb and began to massage it. It was not the full shaft stroking I had dreamed of for so long, but I didn't feel able to ask her to change her method. My fears of coming instantly were unfounded, and as the feelings intensified I thought less about the decision to hire the woman and enjoyed my first experience of being sexually stimulated by another human being. As my orgasm approached my body spasmed and writhed, not, for a change, because of my disability. I breathlessly warned her of my impending climax and focused entirely on the sensations spreading out from my penis. Somewhere in there I remember being surprised at how long I lasted after I felt that my orgasm was imminent. When it happened, it wasn't my most intense orgasm, but it was very enjoyable, not least because it was the first brought on by a naked woman touching me. The first spurt hit my shoulder, a distance I rarely achieve, and the rest landed on my stomach. I relaxed in the after glow as she cleaned me up with some tissues.



When she returned from the bathroom she lay beside me, head toward my feet, and hooked her leg across my chest. I was able to watch closely as she began to masturbate herself. Her pussy was no longer the slit I had seen when she first undressed, but puffed out and glistening. With three fingers she rubbed her clitoris in a fast circular motion. Occasionally, she would stop and slide her index finger into her vagina for a few seconds. I don't know whether it was for lubrication, stimulation, or both. As she continued, her breathing quickened and I felt her body squirm against mine. When she came her leg across my chest shot straight out as she shook and a spurt of liquid squirted out of her. A female orgasm, in my bed.



I met with the woman on one other occasion and managed to have sex with her. The most enjoyable part of that visit was her lying against me afterwards, naked, caressing my face and chest. If I needed any more proof that I desired the intimacy of a willing partner rather than sexual release, then that was it. I have considered arranging another meeting while I am still able to work and therefore afford the fee. However, I have no desire for it. I do not regret having the encounters with her, they answered a lot of questions and provided me with experiences that it is unlikely I would have otherwise had.



I will continue to deteriorate; one by one my physical abilities will disappear. It is likely I will even lose the ability to communicate, long after I lose the ability to masturbate. When that happens, the western society that I live in will care for my basic physical needs, feed me, clean me, clothe me, treat any obvious ailments, enough to keep my body alive. The human needs of love, touch, intimacy and orgasm are not catered for when you cannot take care of them yourself or have a partner to look after you.



I still masturbate and still get a great deal of pleasure and release from it. I would love to meet a willing partner, to experience mutually desired physical contact with a woman. The teenage fantasies of the girls I went to school with inviting me to a party, the only guy there, and begging me to take their virginity have been replaced by simpler fantasies of meeting a woman who would cuddle up to me watching a movie.

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