I learned to masturbate on my stomach, my hands between my legs and humping my palms until I felt the little death. When I started having sex, I realized how little the death was. How insignificant my little piece of joy could be when someone could make my entire body feel tight, hot, electric-why bother with a two when you could have a fourteen?
I tried to stick my fingers in my greedy little cunt, the handle of a hairbrush, got a toy and tried again. The little death wouldn’t grow. All these women talking about how they’ve never gotten there with anyone but themselves, when I have had to outsource my pleasure? How 50s housewife of me.
Tonight I lay face up with the lights dim, the music on, the candles lit. I wore my favorite piece of lingerie, green and lace that cups my tits and ass so perfect. I looked at myself in the mirror earlier, touched my body like I would want a lover to, closed my eyes and let the fingertips feel like someone else’s. When my pussy started to ache, I took myself to the bed, where my magic wand, 8 inch dildo and lube were waiting patiently. They don’t judge.