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Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Posted by: Author: Age: 39 now (15 then) Posted on: 0 comments
0 likes 347 views Category: Masturbation Male Solo Tags:

My previous story (Resistance was Futile), described a very visual masturbation experience. I thought I would share another.


To preface this story, I wanted to recap: My first discovery of self pleasuring was by accident. As a latch-key kid, I had a lot of time to myself. In the early years of masturbating I struggled not to indulge in it - I felt religious and societal pressures telling me it was a bad thing to do. After a pivotal experience when I overcame an overwhelming sense of guilt, I found more self-acceptance while masturbating. This significant incident involved me being 'present' (in the moment) while masturbating. Subsequently, I found myself wanting to watch the entire process.

It started by me just being naked, lying down on my bed, and looking down as I gave myself pleasure and seeing all the changes that occurred. I would watch the tissue lengthen and swell. I would also notice the color changes as it moved from pale white to pink, with more deep areas of redness around the more engorged areas. I would also notice the changes in sensation as I manoevered my fingers around the length of the shaft or altered the speed or pressure in my movements. I would watch the sudden thrust of the shaft as I felt contractions inside me; I would watch the opening widen as fluid would come gushing out. This too was a fascination as I would realize the amount of the fluid and the distance it traveled varied. I soon learned that such variances depended on the time between these moments alone. I began to want to see the fluid come out. In fact, I wanted to see it come out strongly and in large amounts. Hence, I would try and put off my masturbation sessions as long as I could in an effort to make the fluid as voluminous and contractions as powerful as possible-it wasn't easy at that age.

I began to really enjoy this time to myself. I would wait for my family to leave me alone and I would get lost in the throngs of self pleasure. As I was looking down one day I began to wonder what it would look like from a different angle. 'Wouldn't that be interesting and exciting?' I thought. So I stood up from my bed and walked to the bathroom. I stared in the mirror my erect penis and became even more aroused. Being that I was a bit short at that time in my life I found it difficult to get a close view of things in the vanity mirror (it was above waist height). Try as I might I just couldn't get a really good look. Frustrated, I went to my parent's room and found their full length mirror. It was perfect! I can still remember the excitement that I felt seeing the fully engorged shaft from the front and side views. I couldn't see under so I removed my shirt (my only remaining clothing) and sat down on the carpet. I bent my knees slightly and spread my legs facing the mirror. It was wonderful to see everything. I moved the skin around and admired the colors and details.

I soon noticed the sensations related to my manipulations. My hands began to linger in the places that brought the most pleasure. I found one hand caressing the incredibly firm shaft (I don't think I had ever felt it so hard before that day), the other was manipulating the scrotum. I watch my hands move up and down and fascinated at how the skin responded. As I moved in an upward motion I saw the skin of the shaft rise and elevate the sparsely haired scrotum. The visual association with the physical feelings heightened my arousal even further.

This didn't last long of course (after all, I was an over excited teenager)! Before long my movements became regular and deliberate. Soon contractions started to build. I felt the waves of fulfillment rising. As much as I was enjoying myself I couldn't hold back any longer! The waves rose to their pinnacle and crashed into an explosive climax that result in my hips rising off the carpet and streams of milky white liquid being launched on to my abdomen and chest. As soon as the eruption began, I fought to not stop my rhythm. I kept moving my right hand in an upward and downward stroking motion. My hand became lubricated with the semen as I stroked and squeezed the throbbing shaft. I never took my eyes off of the spectacle before me in the mirror.

Even as the contractions subsided, I kept my hand moving in slow short strokes - then lengthened the strokes as the river of semen began wane. I continued to watch with focused concentration. I watched the semen slowly drip down the shaft and over my fingers. It was very warm and soft-like a gentle caress over my skin. Then I sat motionless. Motionless except for my right hand that continued to milk the shaft; it brought small amounts of the warm fluid from deep within and up to the opening. I watched as the drops collected at the top and then run down the front of the shaft and over my fingers.

I let out an exhale and smiled. Although I was sad the experience ended so quickly, I discovered something new. The amazing experience had ended but I knew it would happen again very soon. Next time I would savor it much more!



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