Disembodied Undersider Sex
It began with the pee-pee dance. Running around with my
hand in my crotch as a toddler, feeling oddly glad that
I had waited so long to tinkle. I continued this ritual
until my early teens - running for the bathroom, hand in
crotch, just making it to the toilet. The sensation of release
combined with urgency and being naughty began my long love
affair with touching myself.
When the buds of May showed up early on my chest, their
tenderness was not fully appreciated until a bath with my
sister alerted me to how painful they could be. Pinching
was a habit she adopted early on and no body part was sacred.
That changed and so did my bathing habits.
Soothing my nubs, as I called them then, I found my soft
caresses over the painful red skin made me dizzy. And sort
of itchy. And wanting to pee. But I didn't have to. I did
the dance anyway.
And so began my masturbatory habits - daydreaming on my
bed, snuggling under the covers, in the mornings or late
at night. Absently, my hands wandered in half sleep between
my legs, over my chest. The caresses became harder, faster
and one day, the generally enjoyable sensation overflowed
into an orgasm, accidental and unexplained.
when, of course, other hands, uninvited, touched me, as
a child, I felt invaded. I am the one in three, several
times over. I know now that my sexuality stayed alive in
the innocent relationship I had been having with myself
since potty training. Masturbation let me own my body in
a way no one else could.
In marriage, masturbation kept me sane. While single, it
kept me sated. Sick, sad, depressed, horny, bored, tired,
sleepy or roaming aimlessly in insomnia, I always found
solace in my own arms. And devices made it fun. Porn made
it interesting. Erotic literature and cybersex made it one
handed and complicated. I always found it refreshing to
wake up to quickie with myself - it was my caffeine, my
one regular indulgence.
It has changed over the years from fast and furious to
slow and rather methodical. I know my body now, and how
I like to be touched. Different lovers have alerted me to
new spots. Fluctuations in weight, various times of the
month and different medications changed the sensations.
And age, being just past my twenties, has slowed down the
speed of achieving orgasm but created a fuller range of
feeling. My low orgasm threshold has risen and my imagination
has been expanded to include fantasies, nightmares, random
thoughts and temporary obsessions.
Now you can do it for charity. Toys in Babeland has sponsored
a "Masturbate-A-Thon" for the last few years,
to rave reviews. This year, they are sponsoring it again
- the 4th Annual "Masturbate-A-Thon" will be held
on May 18th & 19th. The funds raised will be going to
the Federation of Feminist Women's Health Clinics. Raising
the profile of masturbators as fund raisers and political
activists helps to change the perception of us as wankers,
perverts and weirdos. But this isn't a circle jerk - based
on the honor system, you can ask folks to sponsor you based
on how many hours you will spend sequestered with your favorite
toys, porn and Gatorade. Plus you get a cool bumper sticker
- "I Came For A Cause". You can check out their
website or the following link for more details: http://www.babeland.com/salon/masturbatathon2002.html
CakeNYC.com has loads of tips, tricks, tools and events
for you to learn and indulge as a straight woman. Gay.com
and other sites list resources for gays and lesbians. Mutual
masturbation is heralded as the best safe sex out there.
Prostate massages prevent prostate cancer and keep a fella
in touch with the terrain down there in case anything changes.
Masturbation relieves stress and anxiety, and take it from
an insomniac, helps you fall asleep. And with the internet,
pay per view porn and a city full of sex shops, inspiration
isn't hard to find.
Do yourself a favor and DO YOURSELF. Revel in your body
and enjoy yourself for the easy lay you are. It will put
a smile on your face and spring in your step. Especially
if you put on special pair of vibrating undies
By Melissa Ulto
© multo.com 2002