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Masturbation, the Gateway

Posted by: Age: 24 Posted on: 6 comments
19 likes 57 views Category: Masturbation Female Solo Tags: Female Solo, Masturbation FemaleSolo, Masturbation, learning, first time, orgasm,

“If you can’t love yourself, how can you love anyone else?”  Isnt it interesting, the way some parents actively discourage masturbation or any sexual activity in their kids, while being sexually active themselves? When we were all in adolescence, it seemed to me that my parents were suddenly a lot more vocal about sex. They would talk freely with us, and they certainly seemed too Male more noise in their bedroom...but then, maybe I just noticed it more.  I have a brother and an older sister. I’m the middle child.  Masturbation in our home was actively encouraged. My mom bought me and my sister our first vibrators. Sarah got hers when she was 15, and I got mine at 16. My brother...well, there aren’t many sex toys for boys. But dad did buy him something...a fleshlight! (Looks like a torch, works like a pussy.)  We were never discouraged or demonstrated with if either parent caught us. 


But masturbation....I’ve been thinking a whole lot about this lately. Well, it’s not as if there’s anyone at home to talk about it with anymore.  Puberty for me started with aching breasts....well....I say “breasts”, I mean more of a hardening of my boobs and nipple area. For a while. I had the classic teenager puffy nipples. While I didn’t, and still don’t have large boobs, my nipples are quite long,and my boobs in general are really sensitive. So when they started developing, I would hold them because they ached sometimes....and because it felt nice. When pubic hair arrived, things got itchy down below, so I would...not scratch, exactly...more like move things around until it got more comfortable. That,of course, felt nice too!  I realised from the moment puberty started that touching myself in a certain way felt good....Hell...even sitting in a certain way felt nice. And then there was talking. Girls talk a lot about puberty when their in it, and sex when they’ve passed it. “Have you started yet?” soon becomes “Have you had an orgasm yet?” and this mutates into the big one “Have you done it yet?”  Just like boys, girls lie in their teeth about it. There was also a huge question with my group of close friends about “Would you do it with another girl.” Lesbianism was “fashionable”...grown up...sophisticated. Girls would say “Yes”, but many would say “No, but if I got the chance.....” They would leave the sentence hanging, always unfinished. They meant “I’m way to scared to make a play for another girl in case she refuses and I get a reputation as a Lez, but I often masturbate thinking about other girls.”  The question “am I normal?” Plays around girls heads a lot. So, we compare. Anything from a casual look at another girl in the locker room, to furtive glances during sleepovers.who has the biggest boobs? (Not me). Who has more pubic hair? Who shaves their pussy? Well, the answer there is all of us. Pubes are no respecters of panty lines or bikini bottoms. Almost as soon as we get recognisable pubes, they begin their bid for freedom, so we trim.  Then whe our vaginas start to really get going with wetness and period blood, we soon realise how gunky it can get down there. Before tampons, there’s only towels....and mess. Yuck. So out comes the scissors and the razor....Ahhhh! Freedom!  All this attention down there means we soon discover our clits...and the mysterious and feared hymen. Some girls hardly have one. Some have a hymn so thin that it spontaneously tears during riding a bike, or even running. Others have a thick one that hurts like fuck when it’s torn, and bleeds like a bitch!  Either way, we learn about what physically feels nice way before boys. Boys develop later than girls anyway, and I guess they have the same pressure we do, but in different ways. A boy won’t be worrying about spontaneous and unannounced bleeding. Girls develop a close sisterhood bond, and even enemies will make sure you don’t walk around school with a stain on your skirt. We tend to look out for each other.  My brother had a terrible time at high school he was and still is,incredibly sporty and athletic. So, he was a “jock”. Not only was this pressure to make the various teams, there was also pressure to have “done it”.  One night he talked to me about the ribbing he had gotten that day as the “only virgin in the baseball team”. I told him I very much doubted that he was, and that the guys who were beating him up about it were probably virgins themselves. He told me that he was quite worried about sticking the most sensitive part of his body in a girl. It led to many hours of discussions over many weeks, and, yes, a little experimentation too.  So, masturbation, then. For me, it started just as a light, feel good kinda thing, but the more I touched myself, the more I felt something bigger was on the horizon...something that all these nice little feelings was building towards. The big “O”.  I had heard stories of girls peeing themselves when they cum, and like most of us, I was terrified that it would happen to me. What if I came while a boy was touching me? What if I peed on him? What if he was going down on me at the time? Ew!  I didn’t know back then what an erotic joy peeing during sex can be. So, like most girls, I would masturbate to the point of feeling like I was going to pee, then stopping and waiting while the feeling subsided. Then I’d do it again. I know now, of course, that they call this edging.  One day, I got to the point where I usually stop, but I kept going. Something weird happened. Although I felt like Imwas going to pee, it just hung there....nothing else happened....and I was SO fucking angry! I stopped, waited, and did it again. Again, I got to the point of peeing and kept rubbing my clit, and again, that feeling just stalled there.  By now I was really fucking cross....and my clit was protesting too. I left it, but I felt moody, antsy, unsettled for the rest of that night and the next day.  Next day, I walked home from school having had a bitch of a day. Everything had gone wrong...well...it hadn’t really, it was me.  I got home, went into My bathroom and sat on the can. I still had my panties on....and they were wet....not damp....wet....and I felt utterly miserable...and fucking angry. I could smell myself as I sat there, and I knew I was soooo wet.  I put my hand in my panties and found my clit, engorged, sensitive as fuck, and I rubbed it. One again the intense feeling of needing to pee but holding it in came....this time, though, I quite deliberately tried to pee...I willed myself to do it..,,I even pushed..... .....and was rewarded not with panties full of piss, but THE most glorious orgasm imaginable. I know I cried out because Sarah came to see what was wrong. She found me still sitting on the can, knees spread wide, hand jammed in panties, bright pink across the chest neck and face, and panting hard!  She just grinned and said “Good girl”.  So, masturbation to orgasm. All those little twinges I’d felt before were NOTHING close to this! This was a different league. This was amazing that my body could do this for me. Bring it the fuck on!  Next day at school, I’d clearly joined a different club, and it showed. My closest friends knew immediately something had happened, and when I got to tell them, some were happy for me, but one or two were clearly jealous as all hell. Speaking of masturbation....I really need a cum....now. 

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