I am 27 years old, and I masturbated to orgasm for the first time when I was 12 years old. At that time I'd never heard the terms 'masturbation,' 'orgasm,' or 'clitoris.' I was raised by very conservative and Christian parents, and my mom never talked to me about sex or sexual pleasure or even menstruation. I wish she could have helped me understand my sexuality better, because I went for quite a while thinking that I was hurting myself in some way, and that God was displeased with me for continuing to do it. If I had only known then that my clitoris is strictly for my pleasure...
Nowadays, I have no qualms with masturbation at all, and considering my upbringing, I am surprisingly at-ease discussing the topic with my friends, both male and female. My boyfriend loves the fact that I'm so open about my solo activities, and he enjoys watching me masturbate during sex, particularly in the woman-on-top position. I'm a firm believer in getting myself off every time he does. He learned this early in our sexual relationship, and it's a funny story, so I'll relate.
We had been playing around for a while, switching positions and taking small breaks, and had ended up in the missionary position, with him doing shallow thrusts so that I had room to slide my hand between us and rub my clit. We were both ready to cum, and his thrusts went deeper. As much as I enjoyed this, I started to get frustrated because he kept hitting my hand and throwing off my rhythm. Before I could say anything, he said he was going to cum, and he started thrusting even harder, hitting my hand every time. Despite the logistics, I thought I could still do my thing enough to cum, but just as I was about to, he came, and all his weight fell on me, trapping my hand so that I couldn't move it. Before I even thought about it, I heard myself saying (in a rather angry voice), 'GET....OFF....ME!' I was at the point where if I could just move my hand a little more, that's all it would take. But he didn't move fast enough, and all was lost. Within three seconds, where there would have been an orgasm, there were many, many tears on my part. It wasn't like I wanted to cry, but I guess all that orgasmic emotion had to have some kind of outlet. After a while, I said between sobs, 'I am SO pissed!' I'm typically a quiet, sweet kind of girl, so my boyfriend was completely taken aback by my strong, anticlimactic reaction and, honestly, so was I. Luckily, we had both experienced the crying thing (whatever it is) before, so he wasn't overly concerned like some guys are. He just apologized and waited for me to stop crying, and soon, we were both laughing at my fierce will to orgasm. We have a comical relationship anyway, so he wasn't even disarmed by my sarcastic, 'you go on and smoke...I don't need a cigarette.' Shortly thereafter, he went to take a shower and when he came back, I was in a much better mood, smoking a well-deserved cigarette of my own. Later that night, he repaid me for my trouble, not knowing that I had already evened the score.
[Webmasters Note: Don't smoke.]