Porngasm

So, the topic of this post – big surprise – is going to be more about my masturbation habits. Sorry, but I guess it’s just been on my mind a lot lately.

I wrote a Tweet last week that got me thinking about an aspect of my masturbation routine. The Tweet was: “Porn makes me late for stuff all the time! But I can’t use it as an excuse… ‘Sorry I’m late, I was looking for the perfect cumshot to give myself an orgasm to and lost track of time…’” The part about me being late to stuff because I had a spare twenty minutes before I had to leave for somewhere and decided to “check out a couple sexy videos before I go,” then started playing with myself, and couldn’t stop until I came, is true. I don’t know how many times I’ve been late picking my kids up from school due to this phenomenon. This Tweet also got me thinking about how I use porn and how I get off to it. Or, more specifically, how I go about getting off to it.

It all started, as I suppose most of us did, with the thrill of self-exploration. Rubbing my pussy on stuff felt good. I’d hump my stuffed toys, my pillow, or my hand and that was all I needed. Just doing something “naughty” with my privates was enough to do it for me. Even before I figured out the whole orgasm thing, it was all about the pleasure I got from “down there.”

Eventually, I realized that these play sessions could be enhanced by dirty thoughts. These were my first, tentative attempts at fantasizing. At first it was thoughts of boys kissing me. I’d build elaborate scenarios in my mind about the hows and whys of the kiss starring whatever boy I was infatuated with at the time. It wasn’t even French kissing at that point – just lips to lips and some hugging. I’d try to time my “climax” to the climax of the fantasy – him taking me in his arms and planting one on me. I don’t know if I really understood the connection between the kiss and the feelings I was giving myself at the time, but it felt nice to me.

It took some time, but I began to associate what I was doing with sex (in my juvenile mind I referred to it as “Rub-a-dub-dub” until I learned it was called masturbating – yes, apparently other people knew about this and already had a name for it!). This is when my fantasies started to become more graphic. Again, I was pretty clueless, so at first my sex fantasies were about getting naked with a boy and not much more. As I picked up more information, my fantasies became more accurately sexual. A big leap was when I came to understand what an erection actually was. I knew the word, but didn’t really understand how it translated into the penis getting bigger and harder. Things went from just looking, to touching and thoughts of rubbing myself on a boy instead of one of my stuffed animals. It took me a while, but I eventually put it all together.

I had a few glimpses of porn in my early teens. My first being when my brother and his friend stole a Fredericks of Hollywood catalog from a neighbor’s mailbox (or maybe their trash). Not really porn, I know, but it was full of drawings of skinny ladies with big boobs in slinky lingerie and sometimes you could see their nipples. This qualified as porn to me back then. I remember being especially taken by the crotchless panties. It wasn’t so much about the panties, but the word “crotchless” seemed so dirty to me that it never failed to get me all tingly down there.

There was a boy at school who would sometimes have pages ripped out of Playboy or Penthouse. He was quite proud of his collection of tightly folded naked ladies. I could never ask him if I could see, but would always peek over someone’s shoulder when he was showing them. This is when I actually learned the word “pornography.” Which, much like “crotchless,” turned me on just thinking of it. I remember seeing women posing nearly nude in my mom’s Cosmo magazine and wondering if that qualified as pornography. I usually decided that it did, and would pour through every page of her magazines thinking I was looking at porn. It got me excited to do this, but I don’t remember masturbating while looking at mom’s “porn.” I do recall thinking that my mom was being naughty for getting magazines with pornography in them, and that gave me a strangely aroused feeling.

It wasn’t until I found my father’s stash of real porno mags and erotic books that my relationship with porn truly began. By that time, I had graduated to masturbating with my fingers and giving myself real orgasms. I was fantasizing about jerking and sucking cocks. I understood that boys had orgasms and when they did that sperm came out. The goal, as far as I could put together, was for a girl to get the sperm to come out of a boy’s penis. You could accomplish this by rubbing it, sucking it, or letting him put it in your pussy (but only if you wanted a baby). I don’t remember if I was fantasizing about my brother at the time I found Dad’s stash, but it started around that time.

Anyway, when I could, I would sneak out to the old garage (a stand-alone thing in our backyard) and look at Dad’s porn. I devoured the stuff with pictures first. I’d look at the naked ladies, jealous of their sexy clothes, and high heels, and hair, and press my pussy through my pants. Even when I had on a skirt or dress, I would press myself through my panties. I was afraid to expose my pussy and touch it directly. I had this very weird idea that my parents would somehow would know if I touched myself while looking at Dad’s porn. (I was also scared when I had to go to the Doctor because I thought there was a way for him to tell I’d been playing with myself.)

So, while I was getting turned on by the porn, I wasn’t making myself come to it on the spot. Once I’d exhausted the pictures, I began reading the dirty novels and Forum magazines. I can still almost smell the musty odors they gave off. Based on the yellowed pages this collection was pretty old. I would read as much as I could as fast as I could, afraid that if I spent too much time in the garage I would get caught. Once I’d gotten my fill, I’d hurry to my bedroom, cram my hand down my panties, and go at myself while thinking about what I’d seen and read. If I was home alone, I’d also say some of the dirty words I’d read out loud to myself – which turned me on like crazy (still does).

This pattern stuck with me more or less throughout my life. I would get turned on by something, but only later would I get off on it. I would see a sexy scene in a movie, then think about it in bed as I fingered myself. I’d see a hot guy, or a couple making out at a party, or two dogs humping, and build a fantasy around it when I was in the privacy of my bedroom and could do and think whatever I wanted. It was always a kind of delayed gratification thing – which worked just fine for me. This may sound odd, but when I started having sex, I kinda did the same thing. I’d go on a date with my boyfriend and fool around, then when I got home I’d diddle myself to memories of what we’d done. Even when I had actual sex, it was almost like I was doing stuff that I could get myself off to later when I was alone. I often had the urge to masturbate immediately after messing around with my boyfriend and was a little annoyed that he was still around and I couldn’t make myself come right then to what we’d just done.

It wasn’t until I got into online porn that things changed. Hubby and I had watched the occasional, traditional porno movie from time to time, but like my other porn it was more that we’d watch it, get all worked up, then fuck afterward. The sex after watching a porn together was always more intense, but I was often reliving various scenes from the movie in my head as we did it. I never really considered masturbating to the movies when he wasn’t around. It just wasn’t how it worked for me.

I was aware of online porn before I began writing, but it wasn’t something I sought out. I don’t really know why, but I had the sense that it wasn’t “for” me. When I did begin to expand my online interests, it was with written erotica. That felt “safer” and more in line with my history of reading porn more than looking at it. I started with basic couple stuff, but quickly branched out to voyeur/exhibitionist, threesome/group, and masturbation stories. It didn’t take me long to venture into the incest category. Strangely, as I mentioned before, I was mostly drawn to mother/son stories. I don’t know why I wasn’t more pulled toward brother/sister stuff, or daddy/daughter. Maybe it was that none of these stories matched up to my own fantasies on these pairings. Or it might have been how turned on I got thinking of my mom doing stuff like that with my brother.

Whatever it was, I would usually read, touching myself lightly as I did, then when I got turned on to a certain degree I would stop reading and concentrate on masturbating full out while visualize the scenes I’d just read. It was very much like I’d done as a kid.

Then one day I went looking for celebrity sex tape clips. It was out of simple prurient curiosity, but it got me comfortable with looking at porn videos online. I learned about the tube sites and the millions of porn clips available out there. I began to find it difficult not to “take a quick peek” and see what was on offer. It wasn’t long before I was down the rabbit hole checking out things I’d never seen before…men jacking off, pee stuff, gay/bi men sucking and butt-fucking, shemales, “real” incest, fisting, and (yes) a bit of bestiality every great once in a while.

Instead of watching the clips, then stopping and masturbating, things evolved so I was actually masturbating while watching – not just teasing myself, but fucking myself with fingers or a toy, and going at my clit with a purpose. I began making myself come as I watched. I didn’t really think about this as a transition at the time, but now that I look back it was a major shift. I was no longer relying on my fantasies or memories, but getting off directly to the visual stimulation in the moment. I don’t know why it took so long, but I’d guess it had to do with the abundance and accessibility (and variety) of online porn.

It was no longer a matter of having to absorb as much as I could, squirrel it away in the dark corners of my brain, then unpack it later in private to enjoy. I was able to open a browser, quickly bring up whatever kind of nasty filth I was interested in at that moment, spread my legs, and indulge myself right then and there. It was so easy it would have been silly not to do it!

Okay, so this turned out to be more of a history than what I intended. My thought was to explore how I go about getting off to porn now, but I got sidetracked into going on and on about how I got here. Well, it looks like you’re going to have to put up with another masturbation-themed dissertation from me when I write part 2 of this self-indulgent essay.

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Before I saw one, I thought penises were smooth (like a wooden dowel). I was surprised when I discovered they were all bumpy and veiny and hairy and sometimes curved. I think this came from the sex-ed drawings of male genitals where everything was just an outline and unrealistically blank.

What strange ideas did you have about sex back when you were trying to figure it all out?

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Masturbation Schedule

Sorry about this, but yet another post about my masturbation habits.  Hopefully it’s not getting too boring for all of you.

Yeah, so things have changed a lot with the move.  I didn’t realize how much until a reader sent an email asking about when I usually pleasure myself these days.  Back home I had a few restrictions on when I could enjoy a bit of solo play time, but here the options are much more limited. 

First of all, we don’t have a car.  Getting around the city has been no big deal – awesome public transit systems here – but the problem is that I no longer have those precious few minutes alone in the car after dropping the girls off at school, or driving home from the grocery story, to diddle myself.  It’s something I would only do, maybe, once or twice a month, and I just took these little moments of self -indulgence for granted.  I do frequently get the urge to touch myself while on the subway, but that’s not usually a practical option.  Maybe I have a transportation fetish of some kind…?

During the days when the girls are in school and hubby is at work, I’m free to be as naked and as pervy as I want with myself.  These days are the best, and as much as I love my family, I also love when they’re gone and I can let it all hang out.  Though uncommon, I have spent the better part of such days doing all sorts of naughty things with myself.  It brings me back to when I was a teen and I was on my own in the house knowing no one would be home for a while.  Such a feeling of freedom walking around nude and sticking whatever catches my eye into my perpetually wet pussy.  Yes, I fucked just about every candle my mom ever bought back in those days.

When school is out, or hubby is “working” from home, things are more difficult.  I’ve found that I usually retreat to the locked-door safety of the bathroom.  Yes, the old standby.  It works well when I’m primed (i.e. horny) and can rub one out quickly.  The problem is that the toilet is not all that “romantic” and so it can take me a while to get there if I’m starting from zero.  Just as I’m building toward something, reaching the climax of my fantasy, that’s inevitably when the knock on the door comes with one of my girls letting me know she wants to show me something, or asking what’s taking so long, or (usually) tattling on her sister.  These interruptions are often a show stopper.

This problem is usually avoided if I masturbate while I’m showering (alone).  The shower gives me a built-in excuse for what’s taking so long.  The issue is that it’s not always the most comfortable way to get myself off.  The shower head can be effective, but it’s more the standing position that bothers me (remember, no tubs here).  I’m always paranoid that I’m going to slip and whack my head, then my family will find me unconscious and naked with half my hand crammed up my pussy.

I also worry about my orgasm.  If it’s too intense my knees are going to go all wobbly and I might end up falling over and hurting myself.  Maybe silly, I know, but these are the thoughts that keep me from really letting loose in the shower.  On the plus side, it makes it super easy to slip a soapy finger in my asshole while I’m playing with my pussy – no need to worry about finding the lube or cleaning up afterward.

Of course, I’m able to masturbate with hubby just about whenever I want.  Not the same as going at it solo, but still a different kind of fun – not better or worse, just different.  We’ve been doing the mutual masturbation thing a lot more lately than we did at home, and I didn’t consider why until I began thinking about this topic.  I guess I’m making up for my lessened ability to self-pleasure by resorting to shared pleasure.  We watch each other beat off at least once or twice a week now.  He loves staring between my legs as I play with myself, and I adore watching him stroke his hard cock as he gazes worhipfully at my cunt. And I love the feeling of his warm cum splattering on my bare skin (be it my tummy, tits, pussy, face, or ass).

Otherwise, I will sneak in a quickie whenever the chance presents itself.  Hubby took the girls to the playground across the street the other day and as soon as they were out the door I found myself humping the arm of the sofa.  I was all charged up after doing some writing earlier that day, and was dying for an orgasm.  It took me less than a minute to get myself off and it felt amazing, though I was slightly disappointed that I came so fast.

The other disappointment is not having access to my toy collection.  As I mentioned in an earlier post, I was afraid to pack all my vibrating “marital aids” and bring them through customs.  I assumed it would be easier than it is to buy new ones here.  Yes, I have been getting by with substitutes, but it’s not the same.  I guess there’s something about using a purpose made fuck toy as opposed to an improvised orgasmic device (I.O.D. in military parlance) that makes the experience more of a turn on.  The local cock cucumbers and ass carrots are workable options, but not as sexy as my life-like rubber cock, double-dildo, or assortment of anatomically designed butt plugs.

I suppose at the end of the day I don’t have anything to bitch about.  I’m still able to get myself off at least once or twice a day (if not more).  It might not be as easy as it was back home, but maybe the challenge only makes it more of a thrill when I do manage to get away with it.  I do sometimes fantasize about how nice it would be to just be able to drop my pants in the middle of the living room, with my family all around doing homework or watching TV, pull my panties down, and start openly fingering myself without a care in the world.  But, at the same time, there’s something to be said about keeping masturbation a furtive, private act done in hiding infused with the fear of being caught.  Yeah…that’s how it needs to be, and it’s what makes the fantasy so much more exciting.

Do you have a set wanking schedule, or is it more of an opportunistic, jack-it-as-you-can situation?

Thoughts and Players

So, a reader sent me a bunch of sexy solo gifs (thanks, Jim!), and I thought it might be fun to share my thoughts on these naughty images with everyone…here goes:

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Whenever I had the house to myself, I would usually masturbate somewhere other than my bedroom. Doing it in the living room, family room, or on the floor in the front hallway always intensified my orgasms. I also loved the feeling of being naked in my parents’ or brother’s bed. I would always get scared as soon as I came and run to my room feeling guilty for being such a pervert, and I would scold myself for being so stupid and risking getting caught. I’d promise myself I wouldn’t do that any more (jilling off in my own room felt good enough that I didn’t need to take a chance and do it anywhere else), but the next time I was alone in the house I was running wild all over the place!

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To this day I sometimes rub myself off over my PJs or panties. It’s also something I frequently do while driving. There’s something so good about the feeling it gives my pussy while at the same time I’m dying to feel my fingers on (and in) my wet flesh (not to mention the excitement of touching myself in semi-public).

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Yeah, this is how I masturbate most of the time these days – in front of a screen looking at various forms of hardcore porn. All I had when I was younger was the occasional soft-core movie on cable (we had a family computer in our dining room that didn’t allow for any privacy, and was closely monitored by our parents – probably more because of my brother than me). I explored online porn here and there in college, but back then I was convinced that I was being tracked and that somehow it could become public that I was looking at cocks on the internet. Paranoid, I know, but one summer I worked at a video store (remember those!?) and there was a local politician who came in and rented porno all the time. I often thought about how easy it would be for someone to leak his list of rentals (or anyone’s) and so I was always worried about my own shameful porn habits getting out and ruining my life. And, now that I think about it, I still am!

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My first foray into actual sex toys was centered around vibrator type things that I’d buzz my clit with. I was a little weirded out by the idea of fucking a non-living thing (penises or my fingers felt natural, but doing it with an inanimate object…?). I eventually got over this (obviously) and now enjoy pumping myself like a sex-starved nympho several times a week using a nice thick dildo (or my trusty double-headed dong).

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Yeah…still nothing like fingers to really get in there and get the job done. You get the joyful sensation through your fingers as they slide around the soft folds of your cunt, along with the great feeling of your horny cunt getting fingered in just the right way.

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Oh yeah, ya gotta love pale titties on a tanned hottie! I think I picked up this turn-on from my dad’s old porn mags. The girls with white boobs stood out more than those with full-body tans to me. I guess it highlighted that I was seeing something that I wasn’t supposed to see – I was seeing stuff that had to be covered up in public! That made it so much dirtier for me.

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Such beautiful wetness! It always bothers me when I see porn pics of dry pussies. Yes, there is a certain artistic appeal, but then I just can’t imagine them in an overtly sexual way. I looove seeing everything nice and juicy – whether it’s oil, sweat, or cunt slime – a glistening pussy is a happy pussy! And when it’s bald and smooth, like this girl’s, I just want to dive in there and rub my face in it!

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Nice! More humping. I think it’s super sexy to see a woman moving her body like a guy does when he’s fucking someone (or something). I like pegging or strap-on vids where the girl really gets her hips into it the way a man would. Not sure why that gets me going as much as it does, maybe for the same reason I get revved up seeing very feminine-looking shemales jacking off fast and hard! (Yeah…the internet has really opened up new worlds of perversion that I never would have known otherwise…)

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I like to think that if I had a sister we would have done this together (a lot). I also wonder, if I hadn’t been such a chicken about it, if any of my friends from high school would have been willing to be my jilling buddy. Again, if I was cooler in college, I’m sure I could have found someone willing to “experiment” with me. Arg – how long is it going to take for some nerd to invent time travel that lets you go back to when you were younger!!??

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Nice! Again, the pose I’m in half the time when I masturbate! I sometimes wonder how I’d survive these days without the internet. I got along fine for years and years with just my own fantasies, but I’ve become so spoiled by online porn it would seem like a big loss if I had to rely solely on my own dirty thoughts. Well, I guess I’d survive somehow…

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There we go! If I’m not using a toy (and sometimes even when I am), I tend to be a two-hander when I’m molesting myself. Fucking myself and diddling my clit is probably my most common go-to move. Either that, or my “spare” hand is roughly groping a tit, or lightly torturing a nipple. I love pulling and twisting my nips as I get close to cumming. I also go through phases where I get super charged up by grabbing and pulling at my belly or inner thigh. Weird. Anyway, one hand good, two hands awesome!

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Beautiful! This reflects another frequent fantasy of mine – a friendly neighbor who likes to stop by from time to time during the day so we can watch each other masturbate. I love the voyeur/exhibitionist aspect of this fantasy, as well as the casual idea of being a able to get off with another woman without it being a full-on lesbian thing. This is part of where my first story (Secrets Between Sisters) came from.

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The girlfriend of a guy I knew in college once told me that she used a tub faucet to masturbate. I really didn’t know her all that well. For some reason the two of us were walking at night, and I don’t know how it came up, but I just remember that she told me that she was walking in the city once and looked into a window as she passed and saw two gay guys having sex. I don’t know how this led to her sharing her favorite masturbation technique, but she did. I was too freaked out to open up about my own naughty habits, and I still regret it to this day. Why was I such a fucking pussy when I was younger!!!??? (And where the fuck is that time machine!?)

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Ever since me and hubby crossed the anal sex line, my butt has played a much bigger role in my masturbation routine. If I’m playing with myself after getting out of the shower, my finger always ends up deep in my asshole as I pleasure my pussy. If at any point I feel a trickle of pussy juice slide down across my anus, I HAVE to finger my butthole no matter what! I also enjoy getting off by moving into a doggystyle type position and spreading a butt cheek with one hand while I fuck myself using the other. Feeling the cool air on my asshole ramps things up for me, but I also usually add in a fantasy that I’m exposing my butthole to someone watching (I often imagine it’s my brother or father (or both), but I’ve also pretended it’s a man (known or unknown) that I’ve encountered that day). This also goes along with the two-handed thing I mentioned earlier…

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Okay, now this is just becoming torture. I really need to find a discreet diddle buddy!

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I don’t know about the dry entry here, but it looks like she’s enjoying it!

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Love that clitty action! I sometimes wish mine was bigger – big enough that I could actually jerk it off between my thumb and forefinger. But, maybe that would be too much for me. I’d probably end up walking around with lady-wood most of the time, in which case I would be too tempted to wear super-tight pants that would rub against my tiny girl-dick and make me orgasm throughout the day. Yeah, I’d be a total mess! Maybe I should go with a big clit for a day fantasy instead, just to be safe. (Which would go along nicely with my big tits for a day fantasy.)

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This last one looks like an inspirational image for a story I should write about three sisters who are fed up with dating jerks and turn to each other for emotional and sexual comfort. But what happens when Mom catches them being naughty? Does she kick them out of the house, or does she confess that their dad isn’t getting the job done in the bedroom and join them?

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Sex Snoop

I often snooped through my parents’ bedroom when I was in my mid-teens. I was on the hunt for anything to do with sex, and had no qualms about invading their privacy (as long as I didn’t get caught). I wanted to unravel the mysteries of this adult world of penises and pussies and discover what the grown-ups were hiding from us kids. My holy grail would have been a sex tape, but I would have gladly settled for a hidden stack of Polaroids.

Sex toys weren’t even on my radar back then. My mom had a clunky back massager, which I’d seen her using for that purpose, but only looking back did I realize it most likely doubled as a vibrator. The closest I ever got was a sheer, lacy negligee that my mom had tucked away in the back of her closet.

I tried it on one time, but it didn’t fit me anywhere and looked beyond silly. Still, it turned me on to imagine my mom wearing it and getting my dad all horny for her. There were holes in the large bra section for her nipples to poke through, and they came with a flimsy pair of crotchless panties. This was the pinnacle of kink for me back then. To this day I still get a big thrill out of peek-a-boo bras and crotchless panties. There was also an item of my dad’s that intrigued me, but not in quite the same way.

It must have been some kind of gag gift because I can’t imagine either of my parents actually buying this item. It was a kind of thong thingie, sized for a man. It was pink, and the front of it had two big, floppy elephant ears, googly eyes, and an elephant truck that was designed for a cock to be slipped into it. It was totally silly, but that didn’t stop me from wondering if my dad ever put it on for fun and made the elephant’s trunk stand straight up. It may have been ridiculous, but that didn’t stop me from getting wet thinking about my parents joking around with their genitals behind closed doors.

Ironically, my biggest find wasn’t in my parents’ bedroom, but (as I’ve talked about before) in my father’s workshop. Finding Dad’s small hidden stash of porn magazines and books was a major discovery, and one I often took advantage of (leading to dozens and dozens of furtive masturbation sessions crouched in the dimly lit garage breathing in the heavy odors of motor oil and gasoline as I frantically worked my little pussy in an effort to get off before anyone found me. As wonderful as that cache of goodies was, it wasn’t quite the kind of incriminating personal evidence I was seeking.

I had one other porn find that I sometimes wonder if it was my imagination. When I was somewhere around 17 (yes, I was still snooping at that age (after I’d lost my innocence), always hoping something new might appear), I found a Playgirl magazine under my mom’s side of the mattress. I had heard it mentioned, but never really believed before then that there was such a thing as porn for women. I went through the magazine one page at a time, hardly able to breathe. Almost NO naked women at all! Mostly nude, hairy men in unnatural poses. They were attempting to be manly, but they all somehow seemed kind of effeminate. The funny thing was that I wasn’t overly impressed with the cocks I saw. I mean, they were okay, but what got me excited was the idea that my mom was looking at this stuff. I picked out the guys I thought she might like the most and masturbated to them while wondering if my mom had done the same thing. The magazine was gone the next time I looked.

Strangely, I never really snooped in my brother’s room – at least not for sex stuff. I guess, in my head, he was a kid like me, so what could there be to find? I’m sure if I looked I would have probably found some contraband porn mags, or even a forbidden VHS tape the boys were passing around. What I did do, when I had the house all to myself, was lie on his bed naked and masturbate like a fiend. I can vividly remember planting my feet and raising my hips high up, humping the air as I fingered myself and yelled out dirty stuff I would never dare say aloud to anyone. I would often start these solo sessions by fantasizing that my brother had walked in and caught me. I’d say out loud, “Look at my pussy! You like that? Yeah, watch me play with my pussy! You wanna see me cum, don’t you?” Wow, nothing turned me on back then like being able to just let loose and say whatever obscene thing came into my head while going wild on my cunt in a place I wasn’t supposed to be. “You want to fuck me, don’t you? You want to fuck your little sister’s hot pussy! Go ahead – give me your cock! Put your cock in me!” Oh, shit, so fucking good – even to this day!

I was often too scared to snoop at the houses where I babysat, but when I did I usually came up empty. I guess I grew up in a very sexually repressed area. I found a three-pack of Trojan condoms once, which didn’t do much for me. One lady had a string of balls in her panty drawer that I would only later realize were probably anal beads, but at the time I had no clue what they were for so I didn’t really get to enjoy the discovery in the moment. Maybe I should take up babysitting again – I bet I’d be a lot better at snooping, and I’d probably find a lot more “incriminating evidence”! (Although the advent of the nanny cam might put a crimp in things…)

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Might As Well Face It, You’re Addicted To…

I hate to use up a whole post for this random thought I had the other day, but, fuck it, I’m going to anyway…

So, I was once again pondering whether or not I’m addicted to porn as I was dusting and vacuuming like the dutiful little housewife and mom that I am. Then I conducted a quick thought experiment that made me feel a lot better. I’m sure there’s a flaw somewhere in my logic, but I don’t really want to find it!

This is what I came up with: If you took away my porn, I would still masturbate. But, if you took away my ability to masturbate, I wouldn’t still watch porn. So, this proves that I’m not addicted to porn. I’m addicted to masturbating! I don’t mind being a masturbation addict, I just don’t want to be labelled as a porn addict (even though I probably might be).

Either way, it made feel better about myself, and that’s all that matters. I have a lot more to say on this topic, but it’s been at least 10 minutes since I’ve looked at any porn and my fingers are beginning to twitch.

Gotta goooo!