What you think about when you masturbate is a favorite topic of mine. I remember as a young person finding a copy of a book about the sex lives of women. It was a cheap paperback from the 1970s with yellowing pages. The book seemed to believe itself to be scandalous. Felt a bit sensational and annoying, yet different and empowering at the same time.
The women in the book shared what they think about when they masturbate. I had trouble relating to them. I remember something like–There was a pizza delivery guy who I thought was cute. He was way younger than me. But I masturbate and think about him.
Sure–ok. Being properly fucked in a semi-anonymous way could be ok? No responsibilities–no needing to make him a sandwich afterward, if he already has pizza? Whatever.
My fantasies were much darker, complicated, and intense.
porn
A lot of people use porn so they don’t need to think. Well, at least that’s part of it. They hand over their imaginations and mental chatter to someone else’s creation.
Probably a little bit they still think. But the main narrative is not self-created. It’s provided on a screen. Seems lazy but maybe not every orgasm needs to be rich cheesecake. Some could be cheesewhiz. Hahah, cheesejiz. Sorry.
conversation
“What do you like to think about when you beat off?” I asked my spouse. We were lying in bed, and he was rubbing his dick. What you think about when you masturbate is a curious topic for me over much of my life.
“Your cunt,” he said.
“What about it?” I asked.
“Coming in it,” he said.
“Do you think about me sucking your dick?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“Do you think about me gagging on it?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. He seemed to like that question–the way he rubbed his dick slightly changed. Maybe his breathing changed also.
“Do you think about coming on my tits?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“Do you think about my nipples?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“Do you think about how much you love me?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“Do you feel my love?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
