I went on a “ masturdate ”

OK, I don’t consider myself a genius or something (well, only sometimes haha but I keep it to myself most of the times) but I do give credits to myself for inventing this word (aka masturdate) and it occur to me after my date stood me up and then again I was too horny not to engage into some sort of a sexual behavior.

photo source flickr.com

But before getting there let me explain how did I get here and what kind of person I am.

1. First thing first: I’m not a masturbation fan. I can’t possibly see the great fun without at least a second person attending. “Use your imagination” y’all say. Well fuck that. After 3 minutes my down-to-earth brain will go “hey buddy, wtf are you doing here all by yourself? Not sexy girl, not sexy”. Get me?? Does anybody else in this whole wide world actually know what I’m talking about?

2. Secondly: I am a rare orgasmer. That means I reach orgasm once in every 10 to 15 sexual intercourses. That if I’m lucky. And only when engaged in the missionary position which is quite unfortunate because I have allergy to boring sex. So that sex position just won’t work for me. I only enjoy sex if the act itself resembles the dirtiest porn movies. The big-budget ones okay? The kinkier, the better. More people participating? Even better. Got a gadget? Bring it on! Does your dirty mind come up with a new idea? Go for it, I’m open!

photo source flickr.com/ photo by Matt Jiggins

So to get to the point (not that point you pervert!) I asked myself out on a masturdate. That means I planned to prepare for a smoking hot date with myself then have sex with myself just to see if any difference occurs in the process. Will it turn me on? Will it bring me an orgasm? Will I finally like it? We’ll see!

For the masturdate I had to wear something sexy of course. I thought, what do I find most sexy about myself? How do I like me? Since I am blonde, black sexy lingerie will do the trick. And oh yeah, definitely lace. Then I showered, I dressed up, put on the make up, died my hair. All that shit, us women go through just to get laid. But this time was special. I was on a seduction challenge. I had to get excited for me!

After that I poured two glasses of wine. Best red wine I could possibly find in the house. Don’t laugh. I’m quite a wine expert. Will go for that Pinot Grigio 2013.

I sat down, and had this good conversation with myself. It started quite flirty with hi5s to myself for managing to look quite good then congratulating myself for all the great things I have achieved but in the end, after the fourth glass of wine (had to double things up right?!) I was all shitty and crying about my purpose in life, my goals and the whole-load shit of things I’ve missed doing for whatever reason. I knew right away I was screwing things up and not in the good way! How could I have possibly put all my life troubles on the table at my very first masturdate? That should be the first thing to avoid on masturdating! why why why??

Ok. In a sorry attempt to re-spice things up a little, I put on some music: Prince “Me Touch Myself”. I get wet when I hear his sexy voice singing “Now my heart beats wild 4 you I melt, I want you so me touch myself, Hallelujah”. It’s not cheating. No! When masturdating you can think /look/ read/ listen to anything or anyone to spice things up! It’s right there, rule no. 2!

So there I am on the couch, listening to super sexy Prince. I decided that this is the moment! I let my hand swipe down my black, sexy, lace underwear. Rubbing slowly then faster I realised I needed some lubricant. Ok saliva of course will do it. Moving on then keep interrupting with “I need more saliva”. Ok, ok, I need to think of something. Think about that guy with funny hair you saw in that bar. What would he do to me? Oh yeah, feeling excited baby. Ok more saliva.

one minute later

It’s not fucking working! I sometimes tend to get a bit maniacal about things that don’t work out. So, in order to get my shitty article done, I open up the Vault. The vault is a secret place in my bedroom, hiding, of course the super-secret, emergency artillery: my slutty shoes, latex, handcuffs, dildos and exactly what I (thought I) needed: horsewhips .

I am semi-naked in front of the mirror and I roar and whip and make this super not-so-sexy sounds and face expression that turned the whole experience into the next level shit.

I am laughing my ass out of this situation and I start doing those selfies then send them to the guys I’d like to have sex with, from my contacts. None of them replied. Actually one of those guys never talked to me again. I don’t blame him. Oh wait! I do! You have no sense of humour whatsoever boy!

I’m not gonna continue on detailing every single endeavor. It didn’t work. I’m talking about the getting into masturbating or having an orgasm. I got bored, my hand was hurting, I wasn’t feeling into enough. But it’s ok. I had fun in the end. I also learned that some self analysis at times not only didn’t hurt anybody but it actually makes you feel a little bit more comfortable with yourself every time you do it. So go on, spend quality time with your inner self.

Masturdating rules to be continued.

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