It was bound to happen, I’m sure. And maybe it’s happened before, but I wasn’t part of it. But it’s happened now.
Wicked Wednesday and Masturbation Monday – when worlds collide.
What am I blathering on about? Well, this Wicked Wednesday, the topic is masturbation. I hope no one is shocked that I’ve got an opinion.
This week looks at it from two viewpoints – the person producing the picture, the words, the whatever that becomes masturbation fodder for another and the person who holds onto to some bit of writing, some image, something to masturbate to later.
/claps hands together
Well! Now we’re cookin’ with Crisco, aren’t we?
I started my blog to talk about masturbation – my own inability, my own adventures, my own experiences. Did I plan to be salacious about it? It would be insincere if I said I didn’t intend to be as sexual as possible.
Did I ever think others would be turned on enough to get off on my words? Oh hell no. I’m always shocked when someone tells me they read something I’ve written and then taken care of business. Part of me assumes it’s empty flattery, a bit of their own salaciousness. Part of me hopes that I gave someone a reason to jack off – I mean, hello, I write about sex, of course I want people to get off.
Do I write what I do so that people will get off? Not really. I know when I read a sex scene or even erotic romance, I’m often turned on – and my body certainly reacts. When I was married, I used erotica as a means of foreplay. The ability to get turned on without actually being touched seemed like a good thing at the time. Now, I read to learn new ways to describe similar situations. Research, if you will.
So, of course, I hope I turn people on, but no, I have no expectations of masturbatory-induced bliss.
But I created Masturbation Monday (I might have stolen the idea, but I haven’t discovered from who yet) so clearly, I want people to get off from my words. Right?
Wrong. Masturbation Monday is my small attempt to bring attention to masturbation. Some people are ashamed of it, some are frightened, and most people pretend they don’t. I prefer to bring it out into the open and make it seem normal – because it is.
I used to focus on actual masturbatory experiences of my own and others. Later, I changed to writing scenes that could induce someone to want to masturbate.
Wait, hold the phone. Maybe I do have expectations of masturbatory-induced bliss for my readers. For the record, though, I’m not worried, offended, or bothered if my words don’t result in masturbation. However, I would be ecstatic if they did.
On the flip side, my own masturbation has always been focused on what’s going on in my head. Pictures and words turn me on, but they don’t prompt me to rub one out real quick. I need something real – or as close to real as I can get. Honestly, I don’t masturbate anymore. Not from lack of desire (God forbid!) but because I don’t feel like I need to, so I don’t ask if I can. If I wait long enough, Daddy will make me cum more times than I can count. (And for the record, I never have to wait too terribly long.)
But back in the day, back in the early days of self-discovery, the spark of an idea was often enough. I thought about a man watching me, sometimes multiple men, sometimes a woman. Oftentimes I knew exactly who I imagined, but sometimes they were pure fantasy. The idea of eyes on me turned it into a performance. Other times, I imagined a voice whispered in my ear. At still other times, I imagined it wasn’t my hand, but his hand, his tongue, his cock.
What were we talking about?
Oh yeah, masturbation.
I think everyone should masturbate sometimes, at some point, for any reason or no reason. Use whatever tools you can to arouse yourself – pictures, words, your own imagination. And hell, if my books or blog posts make you want to masturbate, I’m all for it!