My masturbation

page views:1 Publication date:2023-04-05 09:26:04

Before going to bed, I prepare a book—not a pornographic book, not even erotica, but one with some sexually suggestive content. That's enough; I only need an emotional trigger, and my rich imagination can fill the rest. I pull the covers up tightly, take off my pajama bottoms, leaving only my underwear, spread my legs, arch my back, and pull my underwear back tightly, pressing it down with my buttocks. Then comes 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, reading Lang Lingqing's descriptions of sex, but slowly my thoughts go beyond the written descriptions. Sometimes I think back to the rape scenes that sometimes appeared on TV and in magazines. Back then, the media was far less open than it is now. On TV, rape scenes were often depicted with an obscene, lewd, or ferocious-looking man's face, along with a woman's hand tightly gripping the sheets on the bed. Rape in magazines was even more subtle, using words like "torture," which made me still not used to saying "rape" in front of others.
My

masturbation history dates back to when I was about 13 years old. One summer noon, there was no air conditioning in our house. My sisters and I were taking a nap on the floor. A large electric fan was oscillating and shifting in the room, and my mother had covered each of us with a towel blanket. As usual, after Mom left, I opened my eyes and quickly and discreetly removed all my clothes from under the blanket. Then, protected by the blanket, I began to caress my entire body. With my eyes closed, I imagined the hand wasn't mine, but someone else's, much like some girls fantasize about their teachers, classmates, or even relatives. In my mind, he was just a man, a man who didn't even have a human form. But the fact that he was a man gave my family a huge shock. At that time, I didn't know how to caress myself with my hands, 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 took a cucumber of moderate thickness, put a condom on it, and tried to put it into my vagina, but obviously, my vagina was too dry, and it wouldn't go in. So I put my underwear back on and stimulated my clitoris with my fingers for a while.

I don't remember when I learned to masturbate. The most frequent period of masturbation in my memory was probably in high school. My older sisters had all been admitted to university, and I finally had my own room. Every day after finishing my studies, I would lie in bed and read for a while before going to sleep. As the pressure of the college entrance exam increased, I started experiencing insomnia, but I quickly discovered that masturbation could cure it.

When I had to say something, I would use "rape" or simply "that" instead.
As the pleasure intensified, my fingers moved faster and faster. At the moment of orgasm, my thighs began to tremble, my vagina felt like it was being 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 particularly delicate and sensitive; it would tremble at the slightest touch, as if it wouldn't tolerate any object touching it. At this time, I would feel a sudden wave of drowsiness, my whole body wouldn't move, I didn't even want to turn over, I'd throw my books next to my pillow, straighten my underwear, and fall asleep quickly without even wearing pajamas, and I always slept very soundly. I still use this sleep therapy to this day, but it's not as effective as it used to be.

After entering university, like all girls, I installed a curtain in front of my bed. Every time I masturbated, I would pull up the curtain, cover myself with the blanket, and enjoy myself. At that time, it was probably once or twice a week, much less than the two or three times a week in high school. Freed from my parents' supervision, I could finally read novels freely and at ease. I started renting books and also bought some pirated copies. Books like *Three Words and Two Beats* and *The Decameron* were all books that could arouse my sexual interest. I even borrowed a copy of *The Diary of a Female Doctor*, a book that practically circulated throughout the three girls' dormitories in our class. I remember one of my roommates borrowed a set of *Lady Chatterley's Lover* from her boyfriend's place. Whenever I wanted to masturbate, I would climb up to her bunk to get the book, but six or seven times out of ten, someone else would snatch it first.

Although I often read erotic literature, I was never interested in the increasing number of erotic pictures and videos. Partly because of those pictures... Often, the photos are so detailed and lack mystery, leaving no room for my imagination. On the other hand, the men chosen for these photos or films often have frighteningly large male characteristics, while the women are mostly portrayed as subservient or even masochistic, with expressions of mixed pleasure and pain on their faces, which makes me very uncomfortable, let alone arousing any sexual interest.

Lately, looking at pictures, I've noticed another obvious trend. With the advancement of computer technology, some computer-generated or modified photos are indeed abnormal. Once, I saw a series of photos about gj on a website... The images were manipulated; the person who created them had distorted the genitals of women being masturbated, making them extremely grotesque, bright red, and large enough to fit
a fist. My first reaction upon seeing them was nausea. I quickly closed the window and cursed, "This is fucking abnormal!" Around that time, my boyfriend was constantly trying to persuade me to have masturbation, and I was hesitant. After seeing those images, I decisively rejected his request.

Over the years of schooling, besides erotic literature, I also read articles on sex education. Once, on a health website, I accidentally clicked on an image of female reproductive organs. Link to the video. Looking at those familiar yet unfamiliar pictures, my feelings were somewhat complicated. Familiar because those pictures... well, they've been there for years, and I can clean them thoroughly without even looking during routine washing; unfamiliar because, having grown up, I've never really paid close attention to my genitals. At the same time, I noticed that online, boys often ask what's wrong with their penises, why they're swollen, and what the cause is. But I rarely see girls asking these questions, not just because girls are shy, but I think a large part of the reason is that many girls have never even truly looked at their own private parts.

Boys don't pay attention to their... It's very convenient; you can just take off your pants and adjust them with your hands to see the whole picture. But it's much less convenient for girls. Take my first experience of not being able to see myself properly, for example. I first took off my underwear, then half-reclined in my computer chair, and placed a small mirror in front of my vulva. 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 to observe myself while comparing it to pictures online. I bet girls who see their vulva for the first time must have had the same feeling as me: How ugly! Having grown accustomed to seeing my own fairly decent face and figure, and knowing that almost every girl can find at least one positive trait in herself, suddenly seeing that area—neither fair nor smooth, and with each part disproportionately odd—evoked a strong sense of repulsion. I tossed the mirror aside, turned off the lamp, and inexplicably began to sulk. (A few minutes later, I convinced myself to face reality, picked up the mirror again, turned the lamp back on, and patiently observed her. Finally, I concluded: although she was ugly, at least she was normal and healthy. I felt content.) I nodded. That's enough, isn't it?

What should I write? Reflecting on my sexual history over the past decade, I've tried quite a few partners and positions, but I've never achieved 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 probably had an orgasm, my first time... It was the only time I achieved an orgasm without using my hands.
After this experience, my interest in my vagina increased significantly. Later, I tried inserting my own fingers into my vagina for the first time. I don't know if it was because of the familiarity with my own fingers or because they were too 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 bump, which looked a lot like the G-spot described in sex education articles. But whether I pressed it or touched it, I didn't experience any "sharp and brief pleasure." This mystery remains unsolved to this day.
Having overcome my initial unfamiliarity with my vagina and clitoris, I recalled various masturbation techniques I'd read about in articles. Previously, I relied on vaginal stimulation, while many women in those articles used vibrators, cucumbers, or even fluorescent light tubes. I didn't have the courage to buy a vibrator, and fluorescent light tubes were inevitably too uneven. As for cucumbers, I had some at home.

Feeling my vagina getting a little wet, I tried again, but failed again. It wasn't just because my vagina was too dry; the cucumber felt too rough, even though it wasn't thick, it still hurt my bones. I tried again later, and with my best efforts, I was able to insert the cucumber, but I felt no pleasure whatsoever, and my vagina remained dry. I tried thrusting a few times, but only felt pain and discomfort. So, this attempt at cucumber masturbation was a complete failure. Afterward, I even considered whether 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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