[F] My Wife’s Exploration into Masturbation.

Doing something a bit different this time. I let my wife tell the story and I just wrote it down.

Looking back, I guess I was sexually reserved as a young person. But by 18, I was beginning to feel more relaxed about having sexual desires and fantasies.

I didn’t start masturbating until I was 19, but it soon became a regular thing. I often thought about touching myself during the day, and I thought I was sexually liberated because I knew I would act on it that night.

I thought people would be astonished to know that I touched myself sexually. I now realize I was doing nothing out of the ordinary, but at the time, I thought I was a wild one.

I was still living at home, and I would masturbate most nights, usually in bed, before going to sleep. At the time, I thought what I was doing was about as outrageous as sexual behavior got.

Then, as now, I prefer to have my knees up, and legs spread wide when masturbating, partly because of the easy access to my clitoris and vagina but also because of the heightened sense of brazen sexuality of being naked and having your legs wide open.

But although alone in my room, I was never quite 100% sure that I wouldn’t be interrupted by a family member, so I’d usually masturbate on my back with my legs slightly apart and my pajamas still on.

Usually, by the time I climax, I’d have one hand working my clitoris reasonably quickly while using the other to perform one or two fingers in and out of my vagina.

On one occasion, which I vividly remember, it was relatively late, and everyone else was long in bed. On a whim, I deliberately took my pajama pants off in a mood of heightened freedom before getting under the sheets.

At this point, the light was still on, and it felt great to stand there with my bottom and pubic hair exposed. I took the time to enjoy my nakedness and carefully folded the pajama pants, and placed them in the dresser drawer.

Instead of just flicking back the sheets and getting in, I leaned across the bed with my legs slightly apart and pushed out my bottom before drawing back the covers. I had this sense of exposing my labia, my nakedness, to the world even though the only thing behind me was the wall.

I found it so arousing that I looked around the room for things to pick up. I bent over, keeping my legs straight and apart to pick up this and that. Each time I bent over, I felt a sexual focus between my legs rising.

I imagined I was being watched and stood in front of the mirror. I had planned to leave my pajama top on because if someone came in while I was under the sheets, they wouldn’t see my naked bottom half but would be able to see my naked torso.

But I was caught in the moment and watched myself in the mirror as I unbuttoned the top and let it fall to the ground, exposing my breasts. Seeing myself naked like this, fondling my breasts, nipples erect, was surprisingly sexual. It was like I had leaped into a new realm of sexual deviancy.

It was not like being naked after getting out of the shower or something. There I was, standing fully exposed, looking at my breasts and pubic mound and seeing my naked self in a purely sexual way.

I thought of men looking at me like this, seeing and being aroused by my naked body. “Come on and fuck me,” I whispered to the imaginary men.

Saying the words ‘fuck me’ was liberating. There I was, supposed to be wholesome and innocent, but touching breasts and wanting to be fucked. The idea immediately shifted my focus to my vulva. I wanted to touch myself more intimately; I wanted my fingers inside me!

I turned off the light and got into bed. I had a much more incredible feeling of raw sexuality than my regular masturbation sessions when my hands were down my pajamas.

While often intense, masturbating with my pajamas on gave a sense of discretion, privacy, and reservation.

There was something immensely erotic about being naked for the sole purpose of wanton sexual gratification. Once I got into bed, I was surprised at how physically sexy it felt to have my bare bottom and hard nipples against the cool sheets. I spread my legs wider than usual but still flat on the bed.

I massaged my breasts and nipples, then down to my labia and clitoris. My sexual arousal came on much more quickly and insistently than ever before – I was already so wet! I soon found myself at the usual end game of my right hand, quickly rubbing my clitoris with two fingers of my left hand in my vagina.

I could feel the sexual energy rising, magnified by my nakedness, and lusted after the orgasm I knew would come. I couldn’t help but lift my left knee to get my fingers further inside me as lust overtook my usual sense of refrain.

It felt incredible as another layer of restraint fell away, and my fingers more deeply penetrated me. But I also felt exposed to that never-quite-complete sense of privacy that you have in the family home—wondering if someone is going to barge in and see one leg up in the air.

But I couldn’t let the sexual pleasure subside, so I rolled onto my right side so my knee could be hard up against my ribs without being up in the air. But while my right hand still had excellent access to my clitoris, it was hard for my left to reach my vagina.

I didn’t consciously think about it, but I just arched my back and switched to fingering myself from behind. It felt different and was further liberating as another layer of inhibition peeled away.

However, the shift in position slightly slowed the rush toward orgasm, and while I was still totally consumed by this sexual act, I also felt like I could take my time to enjoy it.

I took the time to smear my whole genital area with the copious amount of fluid I had produced before reinserting my fingers. The sopping wetness was in itself highly erotic.

Soon both my hands were wet, my labia, my clitoris, and my whole genital area were slippery and moist, and my vagina kept producing more. I took it as a confirmation from my body of the intensity of my pleasure. I thought, “Yes, this is as good as I thought. Look how wet I am getting.”

My breathing was shallow and quick, and I started to quiver, and my hips began to grind against my hands reflexively. I was utterly unconscious of anything except my body and the orgasm looming.

The wetness egged me on, and as I continued to masturbate, I would take my fingers out and rub them over myself. I hadn’t masturbated from behind with anything like this intensity before nor in such a state of lust. So the first time I touched my anus, it wasn’t intentional.

It sent a jolt of pleasure that took me entirely by surprise. Academically I knew that some people engaged in anal sex, but it never occurred to me that satisfaction from this source would apply to me.

I quickly slid my fingers back into my vagina and went on fingering myself, but the next time I took them out, I was immediately drawn to my ass.

I thought I would brush my fingers against my sphincter as before – give myself a little tickle to see if it felt good. But it felt great, and I found my fingers lingering and probing.

As my finger probed at my sphincter, I was suddenly struck by the thought that putting a finger in my ass would be the ultimate act of letting go and of complete and utter nakedness and exposure.

The moment I had taken off my pajamas came back to me. Just that spur-of-the-moment decision to take my pants off gave me a sense of erotic taboo, which came back with redoubled intensity.

I wanted my finger in my ass, and I decided to do it. The fingers working my clitoris stopped. My breathing stopped. I gently eased my finger in, and every millimeter of penetration was pure pleasure.

Once my finger was in the first knuckle, I could feel the clamping tightness.

The physical feelings were intense but were magnified by my sense of outrageous, brazen willingness to do whatever felt good. I thought I had let go and utterly surrendered all inhibitions to my sexual desire.

I had never felt anything like it, and I couldn’t believe the sexual gratification it gave me. It was a near-orgasmic level of pleasure, and I wanted more, more, more.

Then I realized I felt this intensity when I wasn’t even moving. With an uncontrolled jolt, I arched my back and pushed the finger further into my ass. I began to rub my clitoris in a frenzy, and my whole body shuddered.

I pumped the finger inside me with fast but tiny in-and-out motions. All I had was half a finger in my ass, and although I was moving it quickly, the distance it was going in and out was minimal. But I had never felt so much like I was being fucked.

In seconds I felt an orgasm rise and then overwhelm me in long, slow, intense wave after wave of pure unashamed pleasure.

After a minute or two to get my bearings, I slipped my finger out and had this abstract sense that I should feel guilty or dirty. Instead, I had an unexpected and slightly nervous but also liberating giggle to myself.

I had just discovered a new world of pleasure in sex, and my mind boggled at the future joys I would experience.

I had often thought with lustful excitement what it would be like to have a penis inside my vagina. I couldn’t begin to fathom the ecstasy that being fucked in the ass would bring

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/131h66q/f_my_wifes_exploration_into_masturbation