Masturbation Biography (2, College Years

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Part 2

College Years

In college I continued to masturbate, of course, but less frequently because of the stress. My freshman year I even had a wet dream because of the lack of relief. In general I did not share masturbation until I had a girlfriend. I did not have or seek an opportunity to masturbate with others. Of course, I tried to do it for relief. The guys in the dorm and my roommate and others would joke about it. My roommate bought some adult magazines, the first time I had seen one. I have used that to get off many a time.

One friend, Andrew, for some reason suggested that we beat off together in his car. I gave him a you've-got-to-be-kidding look and he quickly withdrew the idea. The idea just was not appealing at that time. I was also afraid of doing anything remotely 'gay'. I may have also subconsciously very strongly wanted my first sexual experience to be with a girl. I once saw my sleeping roommate's semi-erection with his hand partly on it.

I was once caught in the shower stall with a stroke-induced erection which was embarrassing, to say the least. After the mid-semester break, a new gang of guys moved into an adjacent wing of my dorm on two floors. These guys were originally placed in a graduate student dorm, with no girls in nearby rooms, because of the room shortage freshman year. They essentially were their own fraternity, rowdy and noisy. Some of them once barged into my room at 2 a.m. while I was deeply asleep and pounded on me. One night I was showering in their bathroom, which was closer. I had taken advantage of the fact that I happened to be alone in the room to stroke myself. The shower curtain was an effective barrier to view. One of the rowdier members came in and demanded to know who was there. (There were two stalls.) I did not answer, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer. I continued to stroke myself, but suddenly he whipped open the curtain. I spun around to close it, displaying the result of my activity. He said sarcastically, 'Oh, excuse me!' He left and shortly thereafter so did I. On another occasion they crowded into the stall to tease one of the quieter guys as he (tried) to shower alone.

My sophomore year a girl in my dorm and I began an unconventional but wonderful relationship. Melissa provided a sympathetic ear and was a welcome respite from the stress of that year. It began with an impulsive kiss in a stairwell, which she did not repulse, and later progressed to more exploration by both of us. Much of this was not even preceded by a date or a dinner. Late one Saturday night, we sat alone in a dark, top floor dorm lounge. In the dim light we necked, she let me fondle her breast and then her pubis; I encouraged her to touch my erection, first through my jeans, then under my belt. I slipped my hand under her jeans. Finally, we went into the adjoining bathroom and dropped our jeans. She tenderly grasped me, and I fondled her smooth brunette pubis. She let me slide a finger into her labia. I always loved the tactile contrast between the hair on her pubis and her smooth, wet labia.

She and her roommate planned to move off campus, and they had already taken possession of the unfurnished apartment. So one evening we packed a blanket to lay on and walked over. I don't remember what we said on the way over. I don't think we expected to have intercourse, which we did not. We undressed, hugged and held each other. We laid down the blanket. Because we did not have any contraception, we must have understood that we would not have intercourse. The exact details are lost but we lay down and explored each others bodies in their entirety. I describe this to demonstrate how willing and sexual she was. Looking back, I wish I had been more communicative and demonstrative about what techniques would be most pleasurable and stimulating to orgasm.

Because we were having fully-fledged sex, masturbation did not play a big role in our activities. She let me ejaculate on her belly, and she spread my cum on her nipples. She later wrote that her nipples felt different afterwards all day. I watched her touch her vagina, labia, and (I assume) her clitoris with an intent look on her face as she masturbated. I wish I had seen her do it more.

Some lucky views

Although some correspondents report serendipitous voyeur opportunities, I remember only two occasions. One early evening, before it was dark, I was leaving a dining hall and was lucky enough to get an extended glimpse through a first floor window of a very cute topless girl. No one else happened to be along the sidewalk for the moment so I was able to watch from behind a pillar without drawing attention to either me or the girl. She was petite but with breasts that were a very nice shape. The occasion ended when she moved to another part of her room and out of view. I later saw her from afar in the cafeteria but did not try to approach her. She had a nice head of brown hair, a cute nose, thin lips; she was probably a freshman. (I was a senior.)

The other opportunities occurred when I was in my off-campus apartment senior year. A weekend morning I happened to see a buxom girl donning her bra in the apartment across the narrow alley. I even called my ex-girlfriend, still on good terms, to report what I'd seen, to which she wonderfully replied, 'Good!'

Another weekend, the girl in the apartment had a girlfriend visit. I was able to watch them walk around partially undressed, but alas no nudity. They got into the double bed together, but off went the lights. There did not appear any Sapphic intentions. Another time she had a male visitor. He appeared in boxers and t-shirt, but again nothing exciting happened from my vantage point. I encountered her on the sidewalk once, and she did not offer any look of recognition, so I must not have been observed in my apartment.

My girlfriend and I had broken up early my senior year. Although we the same age, she probably realized that I was not mature enough for her. Unfortunately there was an older professional man at the ready with whom she readily began an 'affair'. Our parting was sad but amicable, and she valued our relationship more than just an 'affair.' We shared a bed once again after her other affair, but her reluctance and lack of time meant no sex, although I took one last look at her labia and clitoris which had changed from earlier. I think our breakup, the ending of that affair, along with academic disappointments that prevented her receiving her degree, and illness led to a breakdown from which it took several years to recover. We have remained in touch since then; I hope I have remained in a small place in her heart as she has in mine. We have both matured and have not tried to renew old flames. I hope to remember our first time always. My wife, who knows our history, considers her a good friend as well.

Anyway, my senior year I remained alone. I do not remember exactly when I renewed masturbating. One Saturday I had a scare, though. I was playing with a small glass bottle in and around my anus, and idiotically let it slip in. I frantically tried to get a grasp on it. Luckily I was able to extract it! That incident did not scare me away from my anus, but it taught me to be careful. I remained anally pleasurable.



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