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02 Şubat 2022, 15:34
I didn't have a strict religious upbringing or anything, but my folks definitely weren't the type to encourage me to "get in touch with my body" or anything like that. Not cruel or unloving, but reserved, and definitely wary of anything that sounded like hippies: no massages, no yoga, no tofu, no home remedies, no "Our Bodies, Ourselves." Mom set up a big floor-to-ceiling mirror in our playroom at one point, planning to teach herself aerobics or jazzercise or something, but she never did get around to working out there very much.
Point is, I don't think they'd have been horrified if they knew how much I masturbated when I was younger, but they would have been horribly embarrassed about it. And so, although for as long as I can remember I've known it felt good to rub my pussy, I've also felt like I was supposed to keep it secret. I'd do it as quietly as I could at night in bed, at first just squeezing up against a pillow, and later learning to reach my hand between my labia to gently rub my clit.
The best, though, were those days when everyone was out of the house, which didn't happen much when I was really little, but definitely more by the time I was a little older. It was something of a ritual, and something of a production, knowing that I'd have a half-hour or more just to fuck myself, but fearing that I'd have to stop and get dressed again in a hurry. Of course, it was a little exciting to think that I was doing something that I didn't want to be caught at. I wouldn't generally dream of disobeying my parents, but having a wank-fest felt... if not exactly bad, then definitely naughty.
I'd go into the old playroom, which by then was largely just storage for sports equipment and stuff that hadn't yet been given to Goodwill, and strip off entirely so I could see myself in the mirror as I did it. I'd start standing up and rub my breasts, pull gently at my nipples and watch them wrinkle and harden in response, and the pale skin under my neck start to flush. I'd put a pillow down for my head, and lie down and press my feet against the mirror so I could see everything I was about to do.
Then I'd stroke my newly-acquired pubic hair, tugging it gently, trying to tease myself. When I couldn't stand it, I'd touch the labia, which swelled and reddened strikingly. I didn't know then that mine swelled and reddened more than average, but I knew I loved to watch it happen, to touch the dry skin outside myself and then feel it slide apart and become wet, to see my labia become thicker and darker as I rubbed myself and came again and again.
We did have TV and news and the internet, so it wasn't like I didn't know I was sheltered. Still, I was sheltered and terribly naïve. I'd had a few boyfriends, none I deemed worthy of getting past second base, but that and my trusty hands were really about it for transgression.
So, after high school, I decided to take a year off and live in the "real world" before going on to college. My parents were dubious but we'd all heard enough tales of misguided and confused freshman that it actually seemed like a good idea to spend a year working so I had a good clear idea of why I wanted to be in school once I got there. I moved away from suburban Connecticut to Boston, and got myself a roommate and a job at a cafe.
I found a small apartment and a roommate named Susan. Although she didn't have dreadlocks or stretched earlobes, she wore yoga pants around the house and had a Buddha tattoo, so my parents pretty much looked at her like she was from another planet. It didn't help when she told them she was enrolled in a full-time program of study at a massage and acupuncture school. Nonetheless, they agreed with me that she sounded nice enough, and I was definitely excited to be out on my own.
We were both equally neat people, and we didn't have the conflicts I heard about from a lot of girls. She didn't wear much makeup and didn't keep a lot of clothes, so we didn't fight over time in front of the bathroom mirror or space in the closet. She was a year older than me and she really took me under her wing, helping me find my way around town and learn the subway and bus systems. She taught me about organic vegetables, took me to the farmer's market, and introduced me to her friends in massage school.
Of trabzon escort (https://kalkankasesc.com/category/genel/) course, we also shared a room, which made it harder, not easier, to get off when I wanted to. I got a job with sort of irregular hours scooping ice cream and making coffee, and she was in class a lot, so I did have a fair amount of time to myself. But I was accustomed to getting off at least twice each night in bed after turning out the lights, and it was hard, especially at first, even to go to sleep: I was so used to it that I'd get wet with anticipation just brushing my teeth before bed. Plus, increasingly cute guys kept hitting on me at work, and I'd find myself fantasizing about them all day, and then coming home to Susan meditating or studying anatomy, when what I really wanted to do was fuck myself silly.
Sometimes she'd stay overnight with friends west of town, and I'd re-stage my old high school marathons of masturbation in the living room with a hand mirror. But that wasn't very often. Mostly I'd try to get off quickly while she was in the shower, or if I got home before she did, but it was never enough to truly satisfy me, and I just felt like I was horny all the time.
She also had books that I wouldn't have thought to read or look for in my home-town Barnes
Point is, I don't think they'd have been horrified if they knew how much I masturbated when I was younger, but they would have been horribly embarrassed about it. And so, although for as long as I can remember I've known it felt good to rub my pussy, I've also felt like I was supposed to keep it secret. I'd do it as quietly as I could at night in bed, at first just squeezing up against a pillow, and later learning to reach my hand between my labia to gently rub my clit.
The best, though, were those days when everyone was out of the house, which didn't happen much when I was really little, but definitely more by the time I was a little older. It was something of a ritual, and something of a production, knowing that I'd have a half-hour or more just to fuck myself, but fearing that I'd have to stop and get dressed again in a hurry. Of course, it was a little exciting to think that I was doing something that I didn't want to be caught at. I wouldn't generally dream of disobeying my parents, but having a wank-fest felt... if not exactly bad, then definitely naughty.
I'd go into the old playroom, which by then was largely just storage for sports equipment and stuff that hadn't yet been given to Goodwill, and strip off entirely so I could see myself in the mirror as I did it. I'd start standing up and rub my breasts, pull gently at my nipples and watch them wrinkle and harden in response, and the pale skin under my neck start to flush. I'd put a pillow down for my head, and lie down and press my feet against the mirror so I could see everything I was about to do.
Then I'd stroke my newly-acquired pubic hair, tugging it gently, trying to tease myself. When I couldn't stand it, I'd touch the labia, which swelled and reddened strikingly. I didn't know then that mine swelled and reddened more than average, but I knew I loved to watch it happen, to touch the dry skin outside myself and then feel it slide apart and become wet, to see my labia become thicker and darker as I rubbed myself and came again and again.
We did have TV and news and the internet, so it wasn't like I didn't know I was sheltered. Still, I was sheltered and terribly naïve. I'd had a few boyfriends, none I deemed worthy of getting past second base, but that and my trusty hands were really about it for transgression.
So, after high school, I decided to take a year off and live in the "real world" before going on to college. My parents were dubious but we'd all heard enough tales of misguided and confused freshman that it actually seemed like a good idea to spend a year working so I had a good clear idea of why I wanted to be in school once I got there. I moved away from suburban Connecticut to Boston, and got myself a roommate and a job at a cafe.
I found a small apartment and a roommate named Susan. Although she didn't have dreadlocks or stretched earlobes, she wore yoga pants around the house and had a Buddha tattoo, so my parents pretty much looked at her like she was from another planet. It didn't help when she told them she was enrolled in a full-time program of study at a massage and acupuncture school. Nonetheless, they agreed with me that she sounded nice enough, and I was definitely excited to be out on my own.
We were both equally neat people, and we didn't have the conflicts I heard about from a lot of girls. She didn't wear much makeup and didn't keep a lot of clothes, so we didn't fight over time in front of the bathroom mirror or space in the closet. She was a year older than me and she really took me under her wing, helping me find my way around town and learn the subway and bus systems. She taught me about organic vegetables, took me to the farmer's market, and introduced me to her friends in massage school.
Of trabzon escort (https://kalkankasesc.com/category/genel/) course, we also shared a room, which made it harder, not easier, to get off when I wanted to. I got a job with sort of irregular hours scooping ice cream and making coffee, and she was in class a lot, so I did have a fair amount of time to myself. But I was accustomed to getting off at least twice each night in bed after turning out the lights, and it was hard, especially at first, even to go to sleep: I was so used to it that I'd get wet with anticipation just brushing my teeth before bed. Plus, increasingly cute guys kept hitting on me at work, and I'd find myself fantasizing about them all day, and then coming home to Susan meditating or studying anatomy, when what I really wanted to do was fuck myself silly.
Sometimes she'd stay overnight with friends west of town, and I'd re-stage my old high school marathons of masturbation in the living room with a hand mirror. But that wasn't very often. Mostly I'd try to get off quickly while she was in the shower, or if I got home before she did, but it was never enough to truly satisfy me, and I just felt like I was horny all the time.
She also had books that I wouldn't have thought to read or look for in my home-town Barnes