Dispatch #2
Touch Yourself…

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.

And 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