This Gonna Be Good!

Excepting the quite good “sex” with my bed as a teen, I really started to discover how joyful (rather than just necessary & pleasurable for a solid 5 minutes) masturbation could be after graduating from college and moving out of my parents’ house. 

I did have a couple revelations in my college years, though:

The first: A college friend introduced me to lube, very matter-of-factly, giving me a bottle telling me it would feel much better than the hand lotion I was using. She was right!

The second: Home on break with the house to myself (and now using the lube) I discovered that I could masturbate twice in a row, starting again 10 to 15 minutes after my first climax, which was very different from doing it for like 5 minutes but just twice in the same day. The second round lasted much longer, sometimes half-an-hour or so, the feelings I was able to give myself as I got increasingly excited were much stronger yet more controllable, and my second orgasm, when I chose to have it (!) was invariably longer and more pleasurable than my first. 

The first time I masturbated twice I was just amazed at how good it was the second time round and how long I was going. I was dumbfounded by how awesome it felt (without putting me over the edge) as I just pumped & pumped & pumped before I’d had that first (second) orgasm which was the most intense climax I’d ever had to that point which also had amazed me. I’d had no idea until then I could make myself feel THAT good!

Oh, and yeah... In college I discovered I could blow myself. The few times I did it was soooo good! But I was afraid I'd injure myself having to curl-up in a ball to get my mouth down onto my dick so I gave it up quick.

Once I was living in an apartment, at 22 or thereabouts, I truly got into masturbating. Rather than an “oh, I’m horny, I need to / want to / wonder if I can masturbate” impulsive act, It became a regular “thing” to do. Run, study, work out, shop, read, do laundry, masturbate, watch a TV show, go out with friends. It quickly become an intentional and regular part of my life.

One big reason: I had privacy. Though I had a roommate that first year, it was rare that we’d be home at the same time, except like midnight to 6:00 a.m., so I had far more opportunities to masturbate than I’d had when I was younger. I took full advantage of this and got quite fond of going at it vigorously and well lubed when I had the place to myself, often doing the “twofer” - cumming as quickly as I could the first time to “prime the pump” then really enjoying the long second round with it’s culminating extra-intense orgasm. Didn't know about edging then.

My roommate was not so shy and would go at it when I was around, the squish-squish-squish from behind his bedroom door sometimes audible. I was too shy to do that and in a way, kind of admired his ability to enjoy himself, apparently without the self-consciousness I still had. I never considered it rude or somehow inappropriate.

We both regularly masturbated in the shower, though, and for some reason it didn’t bother me if he was home and knew what I was doing in there for maybe a little longer than was strictly necessary. But just a little longer, a quickie. if he was home. Not the good stuff.

But I really did get into doing it in the shower about that time because, as I’d mentioned, we were not often home together. I’d done it in our shower at home, as a teen, in the mornings before school, though my family was there. Furtively, silently, standing still, eyes closed, the hot spray striking my back, my hands would gently, repeatedly push my erection downward and back between my pressed-together thighs, slicked up with hair conditioner. Intense and effective. Within one minute I’d be shivering in pleasure, within two minutes I’d orgasm, my hand gently keeping my pulsing penis between my legs as I’d ejaculate, shaking, that so welcome all to fleeting moment of ecstasy. In retrospect, it had really been more a “maintenance wank,” the brief morning dopamine rush on which I’d become dependent, the stress relief, not caring that my parents likely knew that I was in there pleasuring myself.

Alone in my apartment, by choice and when I wished to, I‘d stand under the spray or more often lean, back to wall, in the corner at the head end of the tub and again with conditioner, masturbate conventionally. Caressing, stroking and pumping for 10, 20… 30 minutes I’d finally bring myself to climax, my penis rigid and (so surprising to me the first time I’d noticed) an intense, deep red from arousal, the workings of my hand, and the heat of the shower. Again as when a teen, shaking in my orgasm, I’d ejaculate but if my eyes were open, seeing my emissions arcing through the air toward the drain at the far end of the tub.

I did try to masturbate using my thighs as I had when a teen, but older and no longer able to press my testes up into my abdomen (which had provided, when I was young, more ”room” for my erection to move between my legs) it wasn’t as easily achievable. Experimenting in the shower, I found I could “do it” hands free while kneeling or squatting and thrusting, sort of, my penis between my clamped thighs (again with hair conditioner). While enabling me to achieve orgasm surprisingly quickly, these positions were not comfortable and it was all over too soon. Standing in a few slightly different half crouching positions, supporting myself against the shower wall with my hands, my erection again clamped between my slicked-up thighs I was more comfortable but my orgasms though intense, again arrived all too quickly offering scarce time to enjoy the experience.

One time, as the water drained after a rarely indulged in hot bath, which I had taken to relieve muscle aches following a new work-out routine, I lubed up the insides of my thighs, drew them up to my chest, and inserted my penis. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I began to rock and gently squirm, and was rewarded with those same pleasurable feelings I’d experienced as a teen. As the water drained from the tub I got more excited and began to move more intentionally but I didn’t climax right away and continued to happily, if not entirely comfortably, hump myself in the now empty tub. When I realized I‘d be able to cum this way, I wriggled back to the head of the tub and tried to lean backwards to get my legs more on top of me and have some back support too, thinking it would make my hunching easier, but that didn’t work and as I rolled forward again to my previous position my erection popped out from between my thighs and trying to reinsert hands-free (because that’s the whole point!) only resulted in it then sliding along the edge of the cleft between my legs … and that was enough to start me over the edge and I let go of my knees and grabbing instead the backs of my thighs I curled myself into a ball and squirmed, best as I could to get my dick rubbing good on my thighs, apparently getting it right, then groaning in surprise & pleasure, I had an intense and lengthy orgasm.

Having enjoyed such a good orgasm this way, I did try to repeat this a couple times but couldn’t get it to work again. Never even got it to where it felt good.

My roommate this year also had a good-sized Playboy & Penthouse collection which he told me I could use any time. Now, this was the ‘80s, so no internet, and I thought PB and PH were da bomb. I took advantage of this end enjoyed some lengthy late-night sessions lying on top of my bed looking at several new to me photo spreads of cute, pretty or beautiful women, gently teasing myself with my free hand for maybe an hour or so before settling on the woman to whom I wanted to climax that night..

A far cry indeed from my five to ten minute sessions with a Playboy at 15-16.

Not using any lube so as to keep his magazines clean, these sessions were fun because I’d get really worked up and when I’d finally put down the mag against a pillow, roll onto my side so I could gaze at the woman I’d selected and “go for it” it was very intense couple minutes with a quick transition from gentle strokes, smooth dry palm caressing smooth dry shaft to a firmer grasping - hold and pumping of my now fully engorged and well stimulated penis and then with a sudden rush of feeling through my whole body I’d press my face into my pillow, eyes now closed, gasping, jerking my hips and shaking the bed as I orgasmed, hopefully cumming onto the pre-positioned hand towel beside me but often instead, unable (or simply uncaring) to have ensured the proper orientation of my erection at the height of my pleasure, releasing somewhere off into the air where it would land on the floor of my room and I’d have to hunt it down.

So, yeah. I guess it was at 22 or 23 I had my first chance to really masturbate on my own terms, how, when & where I wanted to.