May is masturbation month

I don’t exactly know what that means. I suppose I’ll be sure to masturbate in May. But today, I’m going to tell you how I masturbate. I just realized, I’ve never done that. Which seems almost insane. (I mean, I did, once, write about a particular orgasm of mine, produced by masturbation. But that was a long time ago. And, somewhat different than this.)

But before I get to that, here’s how I learned of “Masturbation Month.” I just got a note from an online publication asking for a themed contribution. I haven’t done a lot of contributions to other people’s sites. The basic business model of the web for writers isn’t one I have much of an interest in participating in. Most sites expect writers to be content with the featuring and distribution of their writing as compensation, and the ones that don’t pay so little as to be (literally) not worth the trouble. So although I did an online interview with Kinkly once, and long ago, used to allow Fleshbot to republish some of my work (I was a publicity whore at the time, desperate for new readers), I no longer have much of an interest in that. I suppose that, in certain instances, I might be willing to contribute content for free, if there were a real prospect of my reaching a wide, new audience. But generally, that’s not my thing any more.

So. How do I jerk off? You really want to know?

Well, I should say, there are three ways that I masturbate. With a partner, for an audience, or alone. With a partner, for an audience, I’m concerned about how it looks, so it’s a little different. But on my own, this is how I do it:

First, I generally get nude. I lie, typically on my bed (or on a bed, if I’m not at home). I grab an old t-shirt, one I use, reuse, and wash periodically for the purpose, and I open it up and lay it over my cock. Generally, I open up my laptop, or I grab my phone, and I dial up some favorite porn. Sometimes, it’s commercially produced porn, of the sort I pay for. (I’ve written lots about what I like, what I pay for.) Other times, it’s porn that a distant buddy or real-life sexual companion has provided me. Just the other night, for example, I came to Sofia coming for me, two years ago.

But back to how I do it.

I lay the t-shirt over my cock, which generally isn’t yet hard at the start, unless I’ve been surfing for porn or interacting sexually immediately previous. So there I am, lying on my back, t-shirt over my cock, hand stroking, rubbing. I like the friction and softness of a cotton t-shirt (much more than my hand, whether dry or with some sort of lube). I almost never jerk off just using my hand – unless for an audience. So I rub, more than stroke, as my cock grows harder. I don’t grip my cock, I don’t use my fingers, I use the flat of my palm, and I rub. It’s friction, and it’s pressure, that ultimately gets me off, as I watch the porn I watch.

Sometimes, it’s not porn – sometimes it’s fantasy. When it’s fantasy, it’s always specific. One specific person. Or two. Or five. And it generally isn’t (you might have guessed) generally a fantasy of fucking. Generally, it’s a fantasy of availability, of compliance. Someone dressing for me, moving for me, kneeling for me. Sure, I sometimes imagine Willow’s tongue on my cock, or Isabel’s, or Rose’s. But more often, I’m imagining them clothed, dressed for me, walking across a bar, doing precisely as I say.

So I rub, and I rub, and I rub, and, eventually, I come. I am something of a control freak, and I have enough vestigial shame that my impulse is to collect and remove every bit of cum. I try to contain it in the t-shirt, and I use the shirt to wipe me off, to clean me. Inevitably, my cock continues dripping just a few drops after, making the top sheet sticky, or rolling down my side to make the bottom sheet just a tiny bit wet.

Then, typically, I cast the t-shirt to the side, and I close my laptop, or turn off my phone, close my eyes, and go to sleep.

How do you get yourself off?

N's cock

Editor’s note: this is, actually, my cock.


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