Maybe it's age, being married and having, at least for most of the past 25 or so years, regular sex, or the general lack of privacy as a husband and parent, but as a 50-something, I hadn't been very creative with masturbation for quite some time. Oh, a few years ago I did purchase a couple of cheap, clear "stroker" tubes, the same idea basically as a Fleshlight but only ten to twenty bucks and no can or fancy cavity design or anything. One was a bit too tight and was quicky resigned to the circular file, while the other, even cheaper one, turned inside out so the smooth side, rather than the one with the little fingers that are supposed to "stimulate" your dick (but actually irritate it) was on the inside, was just the right diameter for a lengthy, languorous f--ck when rolled up in a towel or blanket and taken under the covers in bed. Turns out also that once those annoying little nubs were on the outside of the tube they did a great job of keeping it stationary inside the towel when I'd get down to some seriously vigorous f--king. Which is one, maybe the only, real advantage a simple f--k toy has over a girl or woman: you can really give it to the toy if you want to. No gal enjoys, or needs, her cervix feeling like it just went a couple rounds in the ring with Mike Tyson.
While I no longer had the big pillow to wrap myself around as I'd had years ago when my friend had made it into a f--ktoy for me, being older (I presumed) had enabled me to have much longer, less intense but equally satisfying sessions using this simple sleave in this smaller soft cotton roll I'd clutch against me, my penis pumping into it gently, over and over until I'd succumb and climax sweetly inside it.
More than 45 years after discovering the joys of masturbation, a couple degrees, a career, girlfriends, marriage, fatherhood, and here I was, back in bed, basically doing it with another homemade porta-pussy just like I'd done in high school when girls wouldn't even look at me.
And it still feels awesome!
I'd been coupling with this simple contraption of mine one night in bed while my wife had been watching TV in the living room, knowing I'd have almost an hour before her show was finished and she'd be joining me to sleep. She'd been pretty tired already and had given her blessing to my having a solo session though I'm sure she had presumed I'd just be stroking with my hand. When she'd unexpectedly come into the bedroom to change into her pajamas without my noticing (in my defense I was a bit preoocuppied at that moment) probably thinking I'd already finished and would be lying there happily spent or if not that she'd give me an encouraging smile and affirmation that she was glad I was enjoying myself (as she'd sometimes do while I was going at it on my own) instead she'd found me naked, on my side, back to her and the bedroom door, clutching the rolled up beach towel to my pelvis and thrusting myself into my slippery little toy, sighing contentedly now and then in the gentle rhythm I'd adopted to afford me a good 20 or 30 minute f--k before I'd be unable (or simply unwilling!) to hold off my climax.
I wasn't much for vocalizing when masturbating, it seemed kind of silly to be telling myself how good it felt, but doing it like this was different, almost like having sex, at least as far as the gross movement of my body and the slick cylinder clutching my erection mimicked the experience I'd so often enjoyed with my wife. Having already been at if for a quarter of an hour or so I was by then experiencing a great deal of pleasure, very much "into it" and letting out a few soft "ohhhhs" & "ahhhhs..." with maybe a "yeah!" when a particularly pleasurable thrust or withdrawal would have me then quickly and repeatedly jabbing myself into the toy a bit, just a few times, oh, oh... oh yeeeaaaahhhh, ok...maybe a couple more, wait...no, no...! as I'd get more and more excited and then having to back out a little, but not all the way, just far enough and for the few moments to calm my quivering penis before pushing inside again. I'd kept myself in this more or less stable point of arousal, still in control, which was my norm once I'd gotten the hang of coupling with the simple toy, for the past several minutes, and had spent the last of them debating whether to keep going a while longer and drawing out what was feeling soooooo good until whenever I could no longer take it and then just cum, climaxing slowly, easily and happily, just gently pumping all the way through it, shuddering a little now and then in my orgasm as I ejaculated into the tube, or to go for the intense pleasure high and following blissful release, not just give it up, but mount up and pound the living Hell out of the thing until the bed was shaking and I was sweating and bucking and then spasming and gasping while practically exploding inside my f--ktoy.
Well, it's not like my wife was going to hear me sigh as I came or my moanin' & groanin' with the bed rockin' & rollin' , either way; not all the way from the living room with the TV on...
Because after all the years we'd been together I'd still felt the tiniest bit awkward sometimes about doing myself when she was around. She'd known I really liked to masturbate since we'd started dating and that I considered it "the norm" - the sex you had all the time whether or not you were having sex with someone else, while she looked at it, since she'd been an adult, as the sex you had when you couldn't have sex with someone else, the sex you, perhaps sadly, had to do alone when you had to have it, but had no boyfriend. But she recognized that guys had needs and maybe even just wants that were different and after a few years of marriage, as long as things were "good" with us she'd accepted my desire to stimulate myself with equanimity if not exactly enthusiasm. But by the time we'd reached our mid 50s, our nest had emptied so we had plenty of privacy but menopause had reduced her sex drive a great deal and she'd become much more supportive of my masturbating. We would sometimes lay in bed, before we'd go to sleep, with her snuggled up to me lightly caressing, perhaps kissing my cheek now and them while gently encouraging me as I'd bring myself to orgasm in my hand. Or she'd just say, rather than suggesting we "fool around" or herself making a move to do so, that she wasn't into making love tonight,, maybe with an apology, but that I should feel free to have a go by myself if I needed or wanted to.
So, this evening it was late, I'd admitted to having wanted it rather badly after she'd said she'd like to watch her show for awhile, and I was on my own, doing it "differently" and about a quarter - hour maybe 20 minutes into a slow, gently faux f--k, really very much enjoying myself. I hadn't told her about my stroker tube but I'd bought it along with a couple of vibrators I'd gotten for her several months before. She'd mentioned she'd been finding it harder to reach orgasm with her hand when I'd come home after work on one of her days off and there'd been a wand massager on the couch with her blanket where she liked to recline and read a book or watch TV. She hadn't had any trouble climaxing with the wand shortly after it's arrival that afternoon, she assured me, conveying with her smile and tone of voice clearly both that her new toy had worked quite well but that further discussion of the matter was not desired. In the following months I did notice a couple times that one of the vibrators I'd purchased, or her wand, was on the couch or the coffee table when I'd come home on a day she had off or when I'd come to bring her to bed in the middle of the night after she'd fallen asleep in the living room.
I'd never hidden my stroker (masturbation sleeve, whatever you are supposed to call these things...) from her; it was right there in the nightstand drawer with the lube we sometimes used for sex and the one I used when I whacked-off but I'd never mentioned it to her and she'd never brought it up to me. She'd known about my affair with my rolled-up magazines and bed when I was a teen and that I'd had a stroker tube for awhile when I was single, though she did NOT know about my friend making me a sex partner out of one of her large decorative pillows and how enthusiastically I'd tried to f--k the stuffing out of THAT thing. She didn't enjoy the lurid details of my (in her mind no doubt excessively enthusiastic) masturbation sessions nor did she wish to discuss hers or either of our prior sexual experiences other than what we had discussed in the most rudimentary statistical manner which we had done when we had started dating "seriously."
Once, though, early in our marriage, while we'd been looking at silly little kids' toys (before we'd had ours) she'd seen me playing with a "water wiggler" or whatever you called those jelly-filled tubes that would squirm around in your hand as you tried to get ahold of them and sort of roll up on themselves. She'd flat out suggested that I must be thinking of using it to jerk-off with and that I should just buy it and use it. I actually had not been thinking that at all, but rather simply about how odd those things felt and how here, as an adult, I still kind of liked playing with it, in a completely non-sexual manner, and wondering how much money the lucky bastard who'd thought that stupid thing up and patented it was making from it because 20 years later, they were still here. I wasn't sure whether my wife was being sarcastic and a bit critical, as at that time she'd still felt a bit put-off by my enthusiasm for self-gratification when I could have sex with, or get a blowjob or hand job from her pretty much any time, on request. Maybe she was genuinely trying to be supportive, despite her misgivings, about my masturbating. I didn't know and hadn't really wanted to open up that can of worms in the toy store in the mall.
But, having fortunately long ago discussed and analyzed the merits, or rather demerits, of "water wiggler" wanking with a couple friends as a young teen (we're guys, yeah, we'd already thought of this!), and taking into account the toy's dimensions, I was pretty sure it wasn't going to work in that capacity and gently rebuffed her suggestions, explaining the expected "technical difficulties.". But that night in bed there was the water wiggler (that she'd gone ahead and bought without my noticing) and my wife, naked beside me, asking me to show her how guys jerked-off with one. Resisting the urge to inquire about where her fascination with water-wiggler masturbation originated I managed to show her, first dry and then with lube, which she was sure would make it work, how we, or at least, I didn't - couldn't - actually jerk off with one of the slippery little bastards, thankfully not rupturing the thing in the process. (BTW: if any of you HAVE mastered orgasming into one of these things, please clue us in!) Apparently accepting my explanation and / or finding herself then sufficiently aroused by my fumbling and unsuccessful attempts to pleasure myself despite the obvious eagerness displayed by my hard-on (and had I been able to do it then I'd certainly have had no qualms about climaxing inside the thing right there in front of her) she'd handed me a condom, pushed me down on my back as I quickly sheathed myelf, straddled me and did her thing, me inside her now, up and down, forward and back, leaning over me, hands on my chest instructing me not to move one little bit, then sitting up straight, moving one hand to her breasts and the other between her legs now no longer moving on me, the only motion transferred to me then the occasional contractions of her vagina as she worked on herself with her own hands. I'd closed my eyes, unable to watch her increasing excitement and desperately trying to hold off my own orgasm until she had begun to climax. If it hadn't been for the uncomfortable and sensation reducing condom (and, no doubt, having whacked off on my knees in the shower after coming home from the gym before we'd gone shopping) I'd never have made it. This night it had worked out for both us, wonderfully, and when she was mid orgasm. shaking atop me, hands now on her thighs, starting to thrust on me again, and said "cum in me!", I grabbed her hips and did as I was told, shuddering a little then spasming in pleasure myself, trying to sit up to hug her just as she'd fallen forward on top of me and ground her body against mine.
This night some 16-17 years later, though, I hadn't been thinking about any of this, but just how nice it felt at the moment sliding my penis in and out of that wet and slick little piece of silicone or whatever it was, marveling at how something so simple could give me so much pleasure. Obviously, these things just worked, that's why they made them! Would my wife be jealous if she knew how totally awesome this thing felt on my dick? Well, no, of course not. But still... you know sometimes the best orgasms, from a strictly physical standpoint, are the ones you give yourself and I can't help sometimes feeling a bit awkward about that.
And why the Hell wouldn't ANY guy NOT be doing this if he could? I have a couple of single friends, one divorced, both unhappily partnerless and I'd thought sometime before about suggesting to each that he get one of these little tubes, even thought of buying them myself, but... guys just don't really talk about that sort of thing with other guys. Oh, they'll talk about sex, at least, about the WOMEN they had sex with, or lament NOT having sex, and they will tell you, sometimes almost proudly, about jerking-off to porn, but they talk about the porn, NOT their hands on their penises. I genuinely hoped my friends had as much fun masturbating as I did, but, I wasn't going to to bring it up. Just. Too. Awkward.
Just Do it!
I wasn't thinking about my poor buddies jerking off either that evening as I got it on with my toy. Nope, I just kept enjoying the ride and I pumped it for a bit more then decided it was time for me to cum, finally. Though as I realized I was chosing right then to have my orgasm (and being quite aware that this was something you really can't count on doing, on controlling, when you are having sex) that I'd chosen the "hard & fast" route and was excited by the anticipation of what was about to happen, I did have a momentary thought of maybe it was a little strange for a grown 50-something guy, married too, to be so into f--king a little piece of silicone. I mean, was this really weird or actually kind of pathetic? Or was it nothing to waste time thinking about, just masturbation, noteworthy only insomuch as it was a very simple but extremely enjoyable way of doing it? My erection, so hard and slick and very red now from pistoning inside the tube, which must have had a direct T2 line connection to my brain or something, knowing what was in store for it in the coming minutes, told my mind that "Hey! This was PENIS TIME" and to STFU! with my philosophical musings and so I shifted position, my brain blanking out almost completely it seemed, perceiving then only the rising pleasure emminating from my dick and the anticipation of the greater pleasure that was coming. I rolled atop the towel & tube and entering it now missionary-style, dropped my chest and chin to the bed and then I reached beneath me and angling the whole contraption slightly upward into the familiar position beneath me so as to easily accept my thrusts, I lifted my hips, adjusted my angle of attack just a bit, gripped the rolled-up towel tightly and began to frantically pound the toy into my bed.
Whether my wife could hear me now from the other room I didn't f--king care - heck, I didn't even think about it! My world had, for that last 20, maybe 30 seconds as I slammed myself into that tube fast & hard, f--king it over and over as my excitement quickly mounted then crested and I helplessly and gleefully rode into my climax, shrunk to my awareness of my penis, the towel clutched against me and the mattress into which my face was firmly pressed. I moaned, I sighed, and then growled out an "ohhhh, yeaaaaah!!!!" as I felt myself first squirt and I began to cum. I came with surprising intensity and was shaking all over and let out another "ahhhh!" with each spasm as I continued vigorously f-cking the toy through those first wonderfully pleasurable moments of my orgasm then stopped thrusting and just pushed a little, then a little more, trying to get myself in farther and farther as I continued to cum but with less intensity, then I kind of swiveled my dick around inside the tube just rubbing it in there, gently, pulling my little contraption against me as I sensed my orgasm start to wane and then started to quickly thrust again, for no reason, not expecting anything... then ANOTHER wave of pleasure hit me, not a new orgasm, still the same one, but. WTF?... it was BACK! Surprising me as I was no longer ejaculating nor expecting to feel another spasm of pleasure but then suddenly I was again cumming really hard! I gasped and I groaned. I loved it! I didn't know how it was happening like this, nor did I care but just collapsed down onto the bed, my penis now shoved as far into the toy as I could manage as I clutched it to me it, my dick and all the rest of me now motionless for just a few seconds in one of those rare and exquisite all-body orgasms that coursed through me once... and then was gone as quickly it had arrived.
Oh, f--k, yeeeeessssss! It feels so good!
I stared at the wall, catching my breath.
I don't know how that just happened, but Holy s--t, it was good!
While I hadn't thought then of comparing it in terms of pleasure to cumming inside my wife, it was not lost on me in those moments that I moved and probably sounded, were there anyone there to hear me, just like I did when I came in her, collapsing atop her as her legs and arms would wrap around me as I'd shudder against her and hug her and tell her I loved her. This night, though, my wife had not been beneath me but rather had been sitting in the chair by the wall for maybe the past ten minutes watching as I'd gently coupled with then frantically f--ked and climaxed inside a little $15 piece of silicone wrapped up in her favorite beach towel. She'd watched, silently, with me still totally unaware as, afterward, I'd laid spent for several more minutes, my head turned away from her after my orgasm had faded, clutching the towel and tube against my pelvis and working my still hard penis inside it, gently, intermittently, before she commented, just as I pulled out and started to roll over towards her, that this must be, had been, just from a different angle, exactly what I looked and sounded like when I made love to her. Rather than saying she'd been grossed out or disappointed that I'd found f--king my little contraption so pleasurable, as I tried to wrap my mind around what I'd just done in front of her and thinking of what to say, she'd simply smiled and told me she'd liked watching me get all excited and was glad it had felt so good. When she'd come to be bed about a half hour later, she'd told me she'd seen the little tube in the drawer and wondered how I used it, and gave me a little smirk. Then she'd rolled over and I'd spooned her as usual but after a few minutes and without saying anything she'd hiked up her nightgown, lifted her upper leg slightly and with her back and butt firmly pressed into me, over the next ten minutes or so, masturbated herself to orgasm as I held her, not saying a word, her hips finally shaking slightly and a few soft sighs escaping her as she came.
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