Self-maintenence.

Last night at work was tiring. I didn't get a chance for a bathroom break until 6 hours into the shift and I never did get dinner. Lots of trying to make very polite bureaucratic phone calls with "AAAUUGGHH YOU FUCKERS *thump* FUCKERS *crash*" in the background.

So I got home. I got undressed and took a quick, hot, refreshing shower. I fixed myself a bit of dinner. Petted the guinea pigs. Did some stretching exercises. Caught up on some blogs. Got ready for bed. Masturbated.

One of these things is just like the others, one of these things just does belong. I took care of myself... and then I took care of myself.

I don't, generally, see masturbation as sex. For me it's not only psychologically different, but it's completely different physical sensations, and even seems to give me different orgasms. Although I sometimes do it because I get a craving, far more often I do it simply for comfort. Touching my pussy feels good and relaxing, and having an orgasm lets the tension out of my muscles and helps me get to sleep. It's not the same impulse as fucking or even making out with another person; it's the same impulse as putting on fuzzy pajamas.

So it's downright funny to me to remember when it was--and still is, I guess--an object of shame and derision, usually simultaneously. When I was in school and it'd have to be very late at night and just us girls before someone would ask, giggling, nervy, "do you masturbate?" Do I. But it's hard to say that when everyone else in the room has answered "hahaha, ewww!" Then again, it's not just kids. At the ER, we had a patient come in who happened to have a vibrator among her possessions. Everyone gossiped and gawked like it was the most unbelievable scandal ever. I said something fairly non-exhibitionist about "pfft, it's just a vibrator, no big deal" and then everyone gossiped and gawked about me and how I was "pretty wild" and had a "secret side." Do I.

I do have a secret side, but the fact that I like to get cozy at the end of a long day isn't it. Masturbation isn't dirty. It isn't naughty. It isn't even particularly sexy most of the time. It's self-care.

Soundtrack.

Embarassing discovery: making full-on sex noises during masturbation feels really good. I don't get to full-on screams by myself, but letting myself let out little whimpers and moans is so freeing and goofy and oh god sexy.

Now I kind of want people to watch me masturbate. Maybe even have someone holding me, cuddled up against my back while my front gets all busy. The stuff I do to myself isn't just an efficient pressure release; it can be languid or animalistic or gleefully perverse, and contains as much drama and eros as any other sex act.

Guilty pleasure.

Confession: this guy's stories get me off like nothing else.

It's terrible. His web design is worse than incomptent-some of those letters don't even have any stories, the story links aren't lined up with the titles and descriptions, and I think some of the stories are posted in .doc format. His writing is terrible and the grammar is bad, and the stories almost never have proper endings. And the content is incredibly offensive and misogynistic stories of violent rape.

These stories get me off. I don't even know why. But I read them and masturbate and they just work for me. I hate the writing, hate the guy, am annoyed with myself--and wet as all hell.

I would kind of like to find some replacement erotica with the same themes of protracted struggle and assfucked innocence, only written by a sane person who knows how to craft a story and a webpage and doesn't make me worry that they're a sex offender, but... so far I haven't found one that has quite the same effect on me.

Blue balls.

Man, theoretically non-sexual BDSM always leaves me ragingly horny. I can certainly work this out myself--at nearly 4 AM it's too late for a booty call and I wouldn't treat them right anyway--but it seems like a shame.

This is what the nJoy Pure Wand is perfect for, by the way. When it's just a "get my rocks off and out of the way so I can sleep" situation, a vibrator does the trick, but when I want to enjoy myself, when I want to really thoroughly fuck myself and luxuriate in it, the wand is perfect. It's not just "pleasure" that thing gives me, it's eyes-rolled-back, shallow-panting, uncontrolled-spasming ecstasy. And the really wonderful thing is, I can draw it out. I can really work out my horny, give myself a proper massage that hits all the spots, and only then make myself come big and hard. If I can't call a real cock up here at 4 AM to stunt-fuck me and then leave immediately (I can't), the Pure Wand is definitely the next best thing.

Separating sex and BDSM is, for me, like separating the bread with the jelly from the bread with the peanut butter. I can do it, it's still a decent meal, but it doesn't seem quite right to me and it means I never achieve that perfect sandwich feng shui. I like my PB all mixed up in my J.

Masturbashame.

It's been a few weeks since I had partnered sex, and a loooong time since I've been in a real relationship. But of course I masturbate like a crazy monkey about twice a day. I'm not sure how to feel about this. (Well, besides mellow and a little sleepy. Ahh.) On the one hand, the Unwritten Laws of Sex say that masturbating when you can't get laid is pathetic. But on the other hand, I'm a girl, and the ULoS say that a girl masturbating is hot. And on the third hand which is a little busy right now, it would be downright weird (by the ULoS) to not get laid and not masturbate.

Of course sex-positivity and common sense would tell me that there's nothing wrong with masturbating, but I can't trust those, because they're too nice. It's like a compliment from Grandma, it's very sweet but it's not useful feedback. Something inside me can only really trust a personal philosophy that isn't afraid to humiliate me and create unreasonable and sexist expectations.

Ultimately, I'm unsure whether to treat masturbation as a valid part of my sex life, as an uninteresting bodily function, or as a dark secret shame. I don't know whether I should be telling hot sexy masturbation stories on here, or pretending that I would never sink so low.

Most of the time, though, I feel like masturbation is separate from sex. Having sex doesn't fulfill my drive to masturbate or vice versa, and they feel very different. They don't even affect me the same way physiologically--when I have sex I'm multi-orgasmic and energized, and when I masturbate I'm mono-orgasmic and get very sleepy. So I guess it's silly to worry if I'm "substituting" for sex when it's not that much like sex at all.

Soothing.

(Posts may be scarce for a few days, I'm moving and stuff's all crazypants.)

When I'm tired enough, sex is sometimes not exciting but soothing--sometimes very soothing, like the perfect way to drift off to sleep. Not hard fast sex, but slow sleepy sex is positively lulling. And napping together is a whole new kind of intimacy, one that's harder for me to relax for than just sex. I can fuck a guy I don't totally trust, but if I try to sleep with him I'll be awake or barely dozing all night; I have to really trust someone to be able to fall all the way asleep.

Alone, I find that a vibrator helps me sleep. On the lowest setting, just holding it still, it doesn't make me come but it makes me comfy. It's sort of embarrassing to wake up with the cord wrapped around me and the vibrator wedged into the small of my back, though. A few times it's still been going.

Man. Can you spot the subtle hints in this post that I just switched to graveyard shifts? I'm going to take a nap now.

Little O, Big O.

When I'm having sex with someone else it's all big O's. But when I masturbate there's two kinds of orgasms I have. One is just an end to the fun; there's a very minor crescendo and then I mostly know that I've come just because I don't feel like masturbating any more. That's probably 90% of the time.

The other 10% is an orgasm so big and powerful that it's downright embarrassing, so big I won't let myself have it unless I'm alone in the house because of all the noise. If I do go through with it I know I'm going to lose control--of my hips pounding so hard the bed shakes, of my voice moaning out loud, and of my pussy just coming and coming and coming.

Man, if I were a Martian I wouldn't understand at all what people find embarrassing. If I cut myself I have no problem screaming "OW" and letting everyone know how I'm feeling, but I'd rather suppress an orgasm than risk anyone knowing I'm feeling good. It's only polite.

Auto.

I'm starting to believe that a surprisingly large proportion of men, maybe even most thin young men, are capable of autofellatio, but it's one of those things that nobody ever admits to so it attains the status of myth.

Considering that there's definitely not much stigma about self-administering a handjob, you'd think a blowjob wouldn't be so different. So it's not just an "ewww gay" thing. I think the distinction is that the auto-blowjob generally isn't very effective--it's uncomfortable and you can't get much rhythm going--so it's purely an experimental or embellishing form of self-stimulation. And somehow that's unmanly, or just degraded in general.

Masturbation that just gets the job done is relatively socially acceptable, but I think there's still a lot of weird guilt about enjoying masturbation. I've heard statements in defense of masturbation characterizing it as "a bodily function," which sounds all enlightened, but also suggests that it's like going to the bathroom, something you just do, not something you should take your time and have fun with.

Men sucking their own dicks is hot. Don't make them feel weird about it, people--then they'll do it less and show it off less and then we all lose.

The Mile High Ladies' Auxiliary.

So, um... does it still count as the Mile High Club if you only have sex with yourself?

Hmm.

(Warning: annoying porny image host because the non-porny ones keep ganking me. Sorry about the ads.)

Underutilization.

I should really stop buying solo sex toys and porn. I always disappoint myself. I get all excited about the new Triple Whirring Butthole Stimulator With Real Grinding Action, and then I come in ten seconds. If I want to actually experience anything besides orgasm, I really have to stick to my hands and imagination.

Woe is me, huh?


(I've posted on this before, but: my sexual response cycle is completely different with a partner. I'm like another person. Still a rather responsive person, but with utterly different patterns of arousal and orgasm. I don't even want to be touched in the same places that I touch myself. The really interesting part is that if a partner is there psychologically but not physically--if he's ordering me over the phone or Internet what to do, or he's watching but not touching--my body goes into partner mode.)

Habit.

Unless I'm flat exhausted or upset about something, I almost always masturbate right before I go to sleep.

The funny part is, if I had sex that day, if I had sex that night even, it doesn't reduce the urge at all. I've lain awake next to men I just fucked, wondering if it would be weird if I snuck in a quick wank. Not because it was unsatisfying, and not really because I'm superhumanly horny either. It's just no reason to break the habit.

Literotica boobytraps.

So there's this site Literotica that's a pretty huge repository of free, somewhat sorted filthy stories and, in that way, a great wanking resource. (Protip: they give out that little "honors" icon for anything sort of resembling English. Your browsing will go faster if you pretend the non-honors ones are invisible.)

But you have to be careful, because many of the stories are boobytrapped. You'll be going along enjoying the story and then...

"...Then Jane's mom walked into the room."
Oh no no no. I know where this is going. It's the second largest category on Literotica after their catchall "general sex" one and I don't know why. Close that one. Pick another.

"...Then Jane said 'I want you to taste me, lover,' and squatted over John's face and started to squeeze out..."
OH GOD. Close it. Try again.

"i love my Master so much He is the only One who knows what is right for me and i spend all day worshipping at His feet and i only breathe at His command and there is no actual sex in this story just so much deliriously capitalized F/fawning."
Well, whatever floats your boat, honey, but I can't wank to it.

"Then he started to fuck my pussy! Oh my god! It was so exciting! It was like the sexiest thing ever!"
Like, OMG, sex! OMG!

"then he fuked huer in teh pusy and tehn the as and it ws sexy cus shw was a re\l hrny biatc"
Sometimes these have "honors" marks. It's unsettling. And possibly randomly generated by machine.

I should write my own Literotica stories if I have such high fancy-pants standards, I suppose. Maybe I will. It's kind of discouraging adding your story to a pile 50,000 deep in mompoopsex, but I don't really know of any other major, free, web 2.0-y, topic-sorted Internet sex story venues. I'd appreciate any recommendations.

Excuses.

I'm not sure if I'll ever write a Big Threesome Sexy Post. It's hard to be sexy when my own feelings are more on the "hmm, conflicted emotions" side than the "ooh baby hot tight wet" side. I liked the guy more than I should've and knew the girl less than I should've and although physically it was a kick in the pants, the part of me that thinks too much still thinks it was... weird.

Anyway! Random personal revelation time!

I have masturbated literally as far back as I can remember. I'm not sure if I had orgasms before puberty; the realization that "suddenly it feels real good for a second and then I want to stop and at the same time there's a bunch more wet stuff" was an unnervingly gradual one. As was the realization that I was masturbating at all; for a long time I knew what masturbation was and I knew that I moved in certain ways that felt good and helped me sleep, but I simply didn't connect the two. Masturbation was all dirty and desperate and what I did was just a simple little pleasure. But I've always done "what I did." I have memories of drinking warm milk from a bottle and masturbating.

I'm honestly not sure if that's normal. Most people I've talked to say they started at a double-digit age, but little kids do seem to mess around plenty. Maybe it depends what your definition of "masturbate" is. At any rate, whether I'm a freak or I have billions of cohorts in this, I've been a horny little bastard my whole life.

I'm proud of that.

Self control.

Sharing room with grandma tonight. Don't masturbate.

Rrrggh.

No, she is not "really asleep so it's okay." Don't masturbate.

Rrrggh.

Going into bathroom.



EDIT: Got up. Grandma was in bathroom. !!!

Jerkin'.

Very often if I'm sitting around naked (which is basically any time I'm alone in my room) I'll touch myself. Not full-on masturbation, not trying for an orgasm, just kind of hanging onto my important parts, reminding myself that it's all there. Or even less than that, just twiddling my labia the way I'd twiddle a paperclip, something to keep my hands busy. It's not sexy, it's just comfortable.

And very often lately I'll do the same thing with my dildo. I'll have it in my lap or even strapped on and just idly... dick around with it. Stroke it, rub my thumb around the head, bend it around gently. I'm more tweaking it than jerking it off, but it's the very same feeling, of being glad to have it there.

It's funny, I'm utterly used to writing about hyper-personal "what did Holly put up her butt this week?" topics, but that last paragraph got me all embarrassed, because I'm really not sure if that's a normal thing to be doing. I'm not a dude, I don't want to have a dick per se, but having one now and then to mess around with feels good.

So yeah.... sometimes I strap on and jerk off.



(Yes, I can feel it, and not just through the magic simpatico I have with my dildo--having the big firm base strapped right over my clit means that jerking-off motions actually send a lot of nice diffuse pressure through my whole pubic area. I can't quite get off with it but the pleasure is quite real.)

An attack of horny.

I woke up at about three this morning with the kind of sexual appetite I haven't had in a good ten months. I was just lying in bed and my mind started racing through every good fuck I'd ever had. I put my hands up to the headboard and I was holding on to it on to it for leverage and dear life with my feet on a man's shoulders. I rolled over and I was riding a man and feeling him thrust up at me with my hands pinning his wrists above his head. Another man, behind me, rocking me forward with the force of his thrusts. They were all memories and they were all so real the feelings shot through me like electricity.

I masturbated of course, and it wasn't like normal. My hips were rolling with it and I had my teeth clenched, willing myself not to scream out loud. When I came it seemed to last for minutes, an orgasm that went on and on as I writhed helpless in its grasp. Afterwards my whole skin was so flushed and sensitive that the mere touch of sheets on my skin was druglike ecstasy. The feelings took hours to fade and I didn't fall back asleep until dawn. Even now I imagine a strange hyper-real quality to the world, my sense of touch amplified and weird little twinges of pleasure coming from the most mundane actions.



The really funny thing is that the feeling I'm getting from all this is not "whoa, this is kinda crazy," but "oh thank God, I'm returning to normal." My sexuality over the last year has been kind of weirdly muted and reluctant, trying to be slutty and kinky not because I must but because I sorta figure I should, and I think this is what it used to feel like to be me.

I'm going out on a slightly silly Internet Self Diagnosis limb now, but I blame my weight. I've gone up and down a couple times in the past and I know that when I get really fat I don't menstruate. This has been the case for about ten months. (No, I'm not pregnant.) Now, while hardly thin, I'm shopping in the L section rather than the XL again and I wonder if it's changed my hormones somehow. I would bet money that I'm going to get my period within about fourteen days.



Whatever the cause, I love being horny. I hope I stay this way forever.

Wankability Paradox.

There's a fundamental problem with reading or writing sex stories: two separate and almost exclusive standards of quality. There's good writing and then there's wankable writing. One has effective characterization, a creative premise, lush sensual detail, and high technical standards. The other pushes the right buttons in rapid sequence with wild abandon. Good writing is something people can often agree upon; wankable writing depends on your individual buttons. And wankable writing generally can only be identified mid-wank; it turns to sand in your fingers (or incoherent rambling on your screen) at the moment of orgasm.

Printed "erotica" (I don't like that word, it's like they think they're better than plain ol' porn) anthologies tend to be nothing but good writing. Absolutely useless for wank. I'd rather read pages 936-944 of my anatomy textbook.

To be honest I almost never read good sex fiction. When my pants are zipped, I tend to realize that sex just isn't that rich a topic for a short story; there's really only so many variations on the ol' in-and-out, and the writing gets caught in an awkward spot where it's too committed to sex to work as full-fledged fiction. It's like reading about someone eating--I'm not getting bored of eating itself anytime soon, but do I really get much intellectual stimulation out of "once again he lifted the fork to his dripping piehole"?

What's really funny is that the things I enjoy reading about aren't entirely connected to what I enjoy in reality. I love being spanked and giving blowjobs, but they do nothing for me in writing. On the other hand I'm not that into the buttlove in reality, but it's practically a prerequisite for a story to pass the Left Hand Test.

So you can keep your Best American Erotica; I'll be on the Internet looking for the Most Frothingly Analcentric Probably-Not-American-Judging-By-The-Grammar Erotica.

Heavy Breathing.

Masturbating is so much more fun when you're on the phone with someone. Even if neither of you really says anything. Just knowing that they know what you're doing changes it from masturbation to sex.

One of the (many) things I love about sex is how it can transform the comical or disgusting--incoherent grunting, wet sticky body fluids, butts and boners and cooters--into the sublime.

Like a little teddy bear!

The problem with masturbating yourself to sleep is waking up with sex toys still in your bed. It always makes me feel a little dirty, both metaphorically and literally.

On more than one occasion I've woken up cuddling a dildo.

It took me forever to figure this out.

If you want to know if your housemates can hear your vibrator, don't pay attention to how loud it is when it's two feet away from your head. Turn it on max, set it down, walk out of the room, close the door, and then see if you can hear it. It's surprising how much difference this makes.

However if you ever make noises in response to your vibrator you're doomed and can only masturbate when everyone else is out of the house, because "probably just some distant highway noise" never goes "oooohhh."