Nine Women With Mirrors
I have an idea for a masturbation ritual. I want to masturbate with nine women holding mirrors. They could be dressed, nude or partially dressed as they each want. I would be naked.
I would masturbate in front of each of them in turn. They could hold the mirror to my face, look at me, talk to me or ask questions - anything, about what I am thinking, or what I may desire. But the only sex is masturbation. They do not touch me and I cannot touch them.
The idea is that I must feel how I feel with each of the women, how I feel within myself. In front of one, I might feel embarrassed. In front of another I might feel free and passionate. Another might make me ache with desire for her, to lick or fuck her, but that will never happen, but I can show her my pleasure. And she can show me my pleasure.
I go from woman to woman and engage myself, looking first into her eyes, then into my own. I might feel the need to moan is my face is exposed to her eyes. I might look and see my mother's face studying me. I have always wanted my mother to see me masturbate to orgasm. I think it would be a beautiful way to show her how I grateful I am for her giving me life. I would have no shame about offering her the vision of my pleasure, or my descent into orgasm, or yielding totally to pleasure. But what I want to show her is ejaculation. I would like to spurt out my semen looking at her naked. Looking at her breasts. But I do not...
I move onto another woman. The rest watch. I choose the youngest in the room. She is shy about being there and I feel my power, but choose to humble myself in front of her. I do this by pulling up my legs and fucking my ass, looking with fascination at the scene of penetration, knowing she can see. Her face is the image of curiosity, her eyes almost round, the mirror trembling a little in her hand.
In this way I move around the room, exploring what I will with each woman, and feeling what I feel.
I choose, and looking into the face of this one I feel like she's unfriendly to my pleasure. I want to melt into my pleasure. I want her to feel and to approve and to love my feelings, but she doesn't, she won't or cannot. I show her and the feeling is raw.
Eventually I come to one of these women.
The feeling with one is so right, or so necessary, that I go with it. In this space right now it feels like it would be someone who reminds me of my mom. All the other women watch this, watch as I spread myself open and fuck the pleasure into myself as she sees and knows. I climax onto the mirror as she looks directly into my eyes. I show my deepest self to her.
And then I look at my face mirrored in the pool of semen. My mother begins massaging the semen into my face. She looks at me lovingly, at my eyes and my face.
I must, in completion, face each of them with my wet, semen-smeared face. Each of them is my mother. My lover. My sister. I learn to be shameless which is to love myself.
I am then blindfolded.
The women masturbate together as I listen, the sounds of all their pleasure filling and healing me, woman loving herself loving women. But the sight of their faces is a mystery, as my mother's climax was a mystery, though I understood it by feeling and by sound. I heard her once, I got up in the middle of the night and heard a sound I recognized as sexual and froze in my spot, transfixed, and into the silence she moaned again, this time long. I knew she was alone. I knew I was hearing masturbation, very passionate masturbation.
I heard the first actual sound of female surrender in this experience, in the form of my mother. I don't know how any other release could be more sweet or necessary or real, granting me satisfaction deeper than my own. In that moment it felt like the sound of her desperation finally fulfilled.
If I were in a room full of nine women, or even one or a few who were going to watch me masturbate and listen to the contents of my feelings, I would talk about my desire to have my mom watch me masturbate. I secretly imagine her seeing me lick up my semen. I would take the opportunity to get into a space so far out I didn't care what I said or what they knew about me. I know they would think it was beautiful. I know this will happen one day.
It feels good to say this to you. I need to say it. I want to thank everyone for sharing their stories here. It's so good to have one place in the world where we can be totally honest about masturbation. It feels so good to just say it, to let it free.