My masturbation

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

My Masturbation:

What should I write about? Looking back on my sexual history over the past decade, I've tried quite a few partners and positions, but I've

never been able to achieve orgasm through masturbation. My only erotic dream was with my boyfriend from ten years ago, my first love. Our

relationship only lasted a month; he took my first kiss and was the only boyfriend I never had sex with. His

face was blurry in the dream, but I knew it was him. The dream from so many years ago is now hazy; I only remember

waking up in a wave of pleasure, my legs weak, my heart pounding. I knew I had probably orgasmed—my first

and only orgasm without using my hand.

My masturbation history dates back to when I was about 13 years old, on a hot summer noon. Back then, we

didn't have , and my sisters and I were taking a nap on the floor. A large electric fan

was whirring in the room, and my mother had covered each of us with a towel blanket. As usual, after my mother left, I

opened my eyes and quickly took off all my clothes, hiding under the towel. Then, under the cover of the towel

, I began to caress my entire body. I closed my eyes and fantasized that the hand wasn't mine, but

someone else Unlike some girls who fantasize about their teachers, classmates, or even relatives, in my mind, it was just

a man, a man who didn't even have a human form. But the fact that he was a man gave me, with

my strict upbringing, a huge shock. At that time, I didn't know how to soothe myself with my hand, but every time I finished my afternoon nap, my body,

especially between my legs, was damp. I didn't know if it was sweat or something else.

I don't remember when I learned to masturbate. The most frequent period I can recall was in high school. By then,

my older sisters had all been admitted to university, and I finally had my own room. Every day after reviewing

my lessons , I would lie in bed and read some leisure books for a while before going to sleep. As the pressure of the college entrance exam increased, I started

to experience insomnia, but I soon discovered that masturbation could cure insomnia.

Before going to bed, I prepare a book—not a pornographic book, not even erotica, but it will always contain

some sexually related content. That's enough; I only need an emotional trigger, and my rich imagination

can fill in the rest. I pull the covers up tightly, take off my pajama bottoms, leaving only my underwear, spread my legs,

then arch my back, pulling my underwear back tightly and pressing it down with my buttocks. What follows is the most enjoyable

part : I gently stroke my genitals through my underwear with my right index finger, lightly scraping it with my fingertip, sometimes gently tapping

it. At this time, my left hand holds the book, looking at the descriptions of sex inside, but slowly my thoughts go

beyond what's written. Sometimes I recall the occasional rape scenes I've seen on TV and in magazines.

Back then, the media wasn't nearly as open as it is now. Television portrayals of rape often used a lewd,

grinning, or ferocious male face, coupled with a woman's hand tightly gripping the sheets.

Magazine depictions were even more subtle, using words like "torture." This has made me still

uncomfortable saying

the word "rape" in public; when I have to, I use "violent assault" or simply "that" instead.

As the pleasure intensified, my fingers moved faster and faster. At the climax, my thighs began

to tremble, my vagina tingled as if electrified, and my upper body involuntarily arched. It didn't last long,

only about half a minute. After that tingling sensation subsided, my vagina became incredibly tender; a touch would

cause it to tremble, as if it didn't want anything to touch it. At this time, I would feel a sudden wave of drowsiness, my whole body

unwilling to move, not even wanting to turn over. I would throw the book next to my pillow, straighten my underwear,

and fall asleep immediately without even wearing pajamas, and always sleep very soundly. I still use this insomnia treatment now, but it's not

as effective as before.

After entering university, like all girls, I installed a curtain in front of my bed. Every

time I masturbated, I would draw the curtain, cover myself with the blanket, and enjoy a good time. At that time, it was probably once

or twice a week, much less than the two or three times a week in high school. Away from my parents' supervision, I could finally read novels

freely . I started renting books and buying some pirated books, such as "Three Words and Two Beats" and "The Decameron

," which were books that aroused my sexual interest. I even borrowed a copy of "The Diary of a Female Doctor," a book that was almost

circulated in all three girls' dormitories in our class. I remember a roommate borrowing a copy of *Lady

Chatterley . Whenever I wanted to masturbate, I'd climb up to her bunk to get the book, but six or seven times out of ten

, someone else would get there first.

Although I often read erotic literature, I've never been

interested . Firstly, because those pictures are often so detailed, lacking mystery and leaving no

room for my imagination. Secondly, because the men chosen for these photos or films

always , while the women are mostly portrayed as serving or even being masochistic,

with expressions of mixed pleasure and pain on their faces, which makes me very uncomfortable, let alone sexually aroused.

Recently, while looking at pictures occasionally, I've noticed another obvious trend. With the advancement of computer technology,

some computer-generated or modified photos are simply perverted. Once, I saw a series of

pictures about masturbation on a website. The person who created the images had distorted the genitals of the women being masturbated beyond recognition, making them bright red and large enough to fit

a fist. My first reaction was to vomit. I quickly closed the window and cursed, "That's fucking

perverted !" Around that time, my boyfriend was trying to persuade me to have masturbation, and I was hesitant.

After seeing those pictures, I decisively refused his request.

Over the years of my school years, besides erotic literature, I also read articles on sex education. Once, on

a health website, I accidentally clicked on a link to a picture of female genitalia. Looking at those

familiar yet unfamiliar pictures, I felt conflicted. Familiar because those things had been with me for over 20

years; I could clean them perfectly well without even looking at them. Unfamiliar because

I had never really examined my own genitals closely. At the same time, I noticed that online, men often asked what was wrong with

their penises, why they were swollen, and what the cause was. It's rare to see girls asking about this, not just because

they're shy, but I think a big part of the reason is that many girls have never actually seen their own

private parts .

It's easy for guys to observe themselves; they can simply take off their pants and adjust their hands to get a full view. But

it's much less convenient for girls. Take my first experience observing myself, for example. I took off my underwear, then half-

reclined in my computer chair, and placed a small mirror in front of my private parts. But the light was still too dim, just

like the poem: "A winding path leads to a secluded spot." So I grabbed a desk lamp, and under the bright light of a 60-watt bulb, I

put on my glasses and began observing myself while comparing it to pictures online. I bet

girls seeing their private parts for the first time feel the same way I do: How ugly! Having grown accustomed

to reasonably good face and figure, and with almost every girl able to find at least one

positive attribute, suddenly seeing that

area —evoked a strong sense of repulsion. I immediately threw the mirror aside, turned off the lamp,

and inexplicably started sulking. A few minutes later, I convinced myself to face reality, picked up the mirror again, turned on the lamp, and

patiently observed her. I finally concluded that although she was ugly, at least she was normal and healthy

. I nodded to myself with satisfaction; that was enough, wasn't it?

After this observation, my interest in my vagina increased significantly. Later, I inserted my finger into my vagina for the first time.

I don't know if it was because of the familiarity with my own finger, or because it was so thin, but the feeling

was completely different from when someone else teased me with their fingers—I felt nothing at all! I even tried to find my G-spot. On the vaginal wall, I felt

a hard, coin-sized protrusion, very similar to the G-spot described in sex education articles, but whether I pressed it or

touched it, there was no so-called "sharp and fleeting pleasure." This question remains unanswered to this day.

Having overcome my unfamiliarity with my vagina and clitoris, I remembered various masturbation techniques I had read about in articles.

Previously, I had always relied on my fingers to stimulate my clitoris, while many women in the articles used vibrators, cucumbers, or even

fluorescent light tubes for masturbation. I didn't have the courage to buy a vibrator; fluorescent light tubes were too unsafe. As for

cucumbers , I had one at home.

I took a cucumber of moderate thickness, put a condom on it, and tried to insert it into my vagina, but

obviously , my vagina was too dry to fit. So I put my underwear back on and stimulated my clitoris with my fingers for a while.

I felt my vagina get a little wet, so I tried again, but still failed. It wasn't just because my vagina was too dry; I felt

the cucumber was too hard. Although it wasn't thick, it still hurt my bones. I tried a few more times, and with

my efforts, the cucumber did fit, but there was no pleasure whatsoever, and my vagina remained dry. I tried

thrusting a few times, but only felt pain and discomfort. So this cucumber masturbation attempt was a complete failure. Afterward, I even considered

whether an eggplant would be better, but that failed experience with the cucumber made me lose interest in vaginal masturbation,

so I didn't try it again and went back to my old ways of vaginal masturbation.

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