Masturbating the Shame Away

I was raised a good Catholic Puerto Rican girl from Queens. I was raised to have virtue and chastity and to cover up all of my sins permanently. Hiding my sins was the most important thing. If I wore a dress, I had to wear a slip underneath. If I wore pajamas, I had to wear a robe to cover myself in front of any or all of my male relatives. They never had to cover up, but I had to.

My first experience of pleasure in the bodily sense was when I was very young and on the toilet. I had just finished peeing, and as I was wiping myself clean, I felt a strange sensation. The more firm the friction, the stronger the sensation, and I could not stop myself. The next thing I knew, this feeling engulfed me, and my body was on fire, but it didn’t burn or hurt. It felt like a rollercoaster ride where my stomach would drop, but in a pleasurable way. The goosebumps formed on my skin, engulfing me. I felt the nipples on my not-yet-developed breasts harden. That was the first time I masturbated and that was my first orgasm.

Since then masturbation became an exercise in stress relief or at least that’s how I rationalized it before I got over the shame.

Shame was a constant battle for me. I was afraid to masturbate anywhere near anyone I knew. Even if it was anyone I didn’t know I would hide it. I would make sure it was private and that no one could hear me. And afterwards I would try to rationalize it “It’s just stress relief, that’s all” then continue to shame myself, all of that Catholic guilt just oozing out of my pores. And then after shaming myself I would start all over and masturbate myself to sleep.

It was when Ankara travesti I met my second husband that I finally learned to abandon the shame for good. We met at a party. He was sitting on the couch with a drink in his hand. His hair like a lion’s mane hung passed his shoulders, a golden chestnut brown. I had a few drinks in me and felt brave enough to sit next to him. The moment I sat next to him he looked at me, his starburst hazel eyes seeping into me, our faces not far apart. I noticed I was breathing with my mouth open and quickly closed it looking away in embarrassment.

“Hey,” his voice was gentle, soothing.

I looked at him again. “Hi,” I whispered. I could feel my pussy dampen the way it did when I was getting ready to masturbate.

His name was Ander.

Ander and I went on many dates after that night, but nothing physical happened between us, and I was beginning to wonder if it would happen. I masturbated to Ander’s voice and his scent; his scent was and still is intoxicating. I came the hardest when I thought about how he held me close with his strong arms, and when we kissed, I really did see fireworks. But we didn’t go any further…Until one night…

We returned to his place after a dinner date with friends. It was 7 pm. I just finished using the toilet and washing my hands when I opened the door to step out and there he was standing in front of me, his eyes burying into me like they did the first night we met. He pulled me close and kissed me ferociously with such a hunger. I felt my pussy get wet, and my hips pushed harder against him for some Çankaya travesti relief. That’s when I felt his erection. His very hard erection. He pressed himself against me, and I could feel his hard cock rubbing against my wet pussy, seeping through my leggings. Then Ander moved his leg between my thighs and pressed it against my pussy. He continued to kiss me. His hand grazed my left breast, my nipples hardening instantly against my silk bra. Ander kept his hand over my left breast and gently squeezed. My hips started to buck against his thigh and suddenly I realized I was masturbating on Ander. I stopped. Ander stopped kissing me.

“Why did you stop?”

I couldn’t answer him or look at him. I was too busy fighting the shame ringing in my head. I am such a disappointment. I am such a dirty disappointment. What the fuck is wrong with you???

“Hey. Look at me,” His voice was gentle but assertive. I looked at him.

He put his hands under my shirt and teased my nipples through my silk bra. “I want you to fuck yourself on me.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! Ander wanted me to masturbate on him…

Ander continued to tease my nipples through my silk bra and leaned his leg against my pussy. I started to dry hump his leg as my nipples became extremely sensitive. Ander put his hands under my bra, allowing my 40G breast to hang free. Ander took them both in his hands and continued to rub my nipples with his thumb, all the while keeping his leg against my pussy. I lost control as my hips bucked against his leg my pussy was slick in my panties. Then Ander stopped and I heard myself whimper. Ander pulled my leggings to my waist, and then he pulled down his pants. Putting his hand in his underwear he rubbed his large erect cock looking in my eyes. “I want you to fuck yourself for me,” he asserted. “I want to fuck myself for you,” he whispered as he stared into my eyes. My hands moved down my panties. It felt involuntary at first, but I rubbed my clit as I watched Ander rub his cock. “Yeah. Like that,” he whispered. I was so audibly wet with the wet squishing sounds of my drenched pussy. Ander’s lip curled as the sounds of my wet pussy made him hornier. I felt my pussy spasm and twitch, and for a moment, a sliver of shame seeped into my thoughts. How could you stand yourself, you disgusting, sinful disappointment?

“Let it go, love,” Ander whispered. My breathing became pants, and my pussy quivered.

“Yeah. Like that. Let it go, love,” Ander’s voice became excited whispers interrupted by moans.

My legs started to quiver as my clit hardened. Ander’s breathing was heavy, and his voice hoarse. “Let it go, Love.”

The orgasm overpowered me, and I fell back against the arm of the sofa. My legs spasmed As the orgasm exploded in my body, my pussy dripping wet.

“Yeeeees let it go….” Ander moaned and grunted as he fell against me. Ander put his weight on me, pressing against my pussy. It was still quivering from the orgasm. Feeling Ander’s cock against me made me want to cum again. His cock was still hard. He started to grind against my pussy, and my breathing turned to pants again. I could feel Ander’s cock jolting and pulsating as he ground against me. I screamed as I came, and I felt him cum as he shuttered against me.

That night as we slept in each other’s arms, I realized the shame I struggled with for decades did not utter a word. I felt light, satisfied, happy, and shame free.