A Good Experience, But Not Shared

I'm a mid 40's married male who continues to enjoy the pleasures of frequent masturbation. Hardly a day goes by without at least one orgasm - one through my own solo efforts, and beyond that when my wife and I make love. To me, an orgasm is the most powerful and effective tension reliever, whether it's sexual tension or simply the tension that comes from doing the day-to-day activities of everyday life. I began masturbating regularly sometime in my early teens. I can't recall the first time, though I have several sharp recollections of particularly satisfying, risky, or the occasional embarrassing jerk-off sessions. When I first began experimenting with sex with women, I found that I had to learn how to cum through intercourse. This isn't to say that I didn't enjoy intercourse - from the start it has always been an incredible experience to be with a woman. It was just a matter of learning a different playbook than what I was used to. Since then, actual intercourse is usually my preferred way to reach orgasm, but my wife doesn't have the same appetite that I do. Masturbation is never a let down. (And to emphasize a point that some women seem to have wrong, it's not necessarily a substitute - for me, it adds to what I experience with my wife.) I've had several discussions with my wife (I'll call her Peggy here) about masturbation. I think she understands it at an intellectual level, but has never had the same kind of masturbatory urges and needs that I have. She's told me that she rarely masturbates on her own. She enjoys sex, but I've always felt that we enjoy sex in different ways. For me, it's a deep, animal drive. And I don't mean that in a bad sense. Peggy either doesn't like to dwell in that animal realm, or she's done such a good job at suppressing it (for various reasons linked with her situation growing up) that it's not an innate part of her nature and it doesn't emerge fully very often. I would love to masturbate with her more often than I do, but it's often a let-down to me because I'm not operating at the same level as when I masturbate on my own. I'm an intelligent person whose work and personal characteristics often dwell in very rational, logical thought. It's the animalistic, primal drive of sex that makes me aware of the irrational side of human nature. And by irrational, I don't mean "wrong", I simply mean those things that cannot be explained through reason. I'm not religious, but I have a spiritual side, and to me, sex is a spiritual experience of being human. Masturbation is a time where I can step outside of time, connect with something that is intensely emotional, intensely human, and intensely satisfying. It's also a way to explore a part of my sexuality that simply isn't "stroked" when I'm with my wife. I was recently out of town and stayed with my sister-in-law. It's been very rare for her (I'll call her Ann) and I to have time alone together. I enjoy her company, but we've never had the time alone to really make our own kind of connection. She's been married before, but is now single. She's attractive, and I've always been aware of her sexually, though we've both played by the rules, and never strayed into anything that could be construed as improper. My sense is that she is a strongly, innately sensual and sexual person, and that she is aware that I am as well, and we both have been careful to keep a lid on things. We went out for dinner and the conversation occasionally strayed into sex and other intimate topics. There was no hesitancy by either of us to talk about it - it's part of living, of who we are - but at the same time I was aware that this was Ann: my sister-in-law, my wife's sister. I felt the occasional twinge of excitement and swelling in my pants, and it felt good to let it happen. But it wasn't front and center - I was honestly enjoying the time with her, getting to know her one-on-one in ways we've not shared before. We got back to her apartment. We both got into PJs and ready for bed. I would have the futon in her living room, she had her bed in her bedroom. But before heading our separate ways, we ended up watching TV and talking for awhile. At one point, I had to use the bathroom. While there, I heard a mechanical humming start in the living room. When I returned, Ann was massaging her neck and shoulders with a vibrating massager (definitely not one designed as a sex toy.) I'd had a headache (rare for me) earlier in the day and I asked her to massage my back and neck. Then I massaged her back with it in return. And while this was happening, the urge was coming on stronger and stronger. I wanted to share the experience of masturbation with her. The thought of fucking was lurking in the background, but I do respect my wife and our relationship, and I know that Ann does too. But I also knew that I would be masturbating that night anyway - enough sexual tension had built up within me. Whether or not it was there, I think I sensed that Ann would have also enjoyed a shared, solo experience. It would have been easy to lead the conversation that way. Did she pull out the vibrator for just such a reason? I don't know, because I held my tongue. So we hugged and each went to our own beds. Not long after the lights went out, I felt the wonderful anticipation and a growing erection. I wandered to the bathroom to grab some Kleenex - I knew I'd need it. Back in bed I felt my body slipping into well practiced modes, like slower, deeper breathing. Off came my PJ's. I thought about Ann in the next room, wondering if she was touching herself. I wondered if she was feeling the same need for the tension, excitement, build-up, explosion, release, and relaxation. It would have been easy to fantasize about fucking, about feeling her, exploring her reactions, finding her wetness, smelling her, licking her, sliding into her. But I found it more exciting to think about masturbating side-by-side with her, to experience things together but apart. I fantasized that we were both doing it, only not side-by-side but with a wall between us. I didn't want to make love with her, I simply wanted to share a part of being human with someone who (I think) would understand what was being shared, and would know that it wasn't part of "a relationship". My cock was firm and it felt so good in my hand. I took my time, wondering about Ann, about what her hands might be touching, about how she experienced herself. I was quiet. If she was doing it, so was she. I occasionally wondered about the boundaries of what is "right" and "wrong" in marriage. Would it have been unfaithful to Peggy if Ann and I had removed the wall between us but kept our hands and our hearts to ourselves? In my 30's, I did have a brief affair - the seven-year itch that I had to scratch. Fucking someone else definitely crosses the line (if you've signed up for the kind of marriage that most people imagine.) Peggy too had crossed a boundary very early in our marriage. Neither of us felt good keeping the secrets from each other and we fessed up, went through the difficulties of regaining trust, and I am not keen on doing that again. But at the same time, the older I get, the more natural I feel in my skin and with my sexuality. I am committed to Peggy, but there are other experiences outside what I can experience with her. The logical part of me understands the boundaries that are put around some aspects of sex. But the sexual animal within me simply wants to be. And I think that Americans are much too prude and dysfunctional about gender, nudity, and sex. We've both hyped and denied sex, and turned it into something too often removed from what it can be and should be. But mostly I chased those thoughts away and just got into the build-up and the comfortable rhythm of doing it. I took my time. When my breathing got jagged, I felt the charge being loaded. Sometimes having to be quiet makes an orgasm even more powerful, as if all the energy is being channeled through my cock instead of through the sounds I usually make. I held my breath and felt the orgasm explode out of me. The warmth of cum on my stomach has always been a wonderful feeling. The waves continued - I wanted to groan and sigh, but I kept quiet. I lay there letting the cum thin out. (It starts out so thick, but gets runny quickly.) I cleaned up with the Kleenex, then settled in for a relaxed, comfortable sleep.