Young Masturbation

I can clearly remember masturbating regularly from about the age of five, or maybe six. I used to lay face down with my hands stacked one on top of the other, outside my panties, right beneath my tiny clit and wiggling and rolling and bucking on the heel of my hand because it felt so good. I had no idea what masturbation was or that it was sexual or even what those concepts were. All I knew is it felt good to do it, and if I did it long enough I’d feel a mysterious need build until a tremendous wave of pleasure swept over me.

I enjoy recalling that now when I masturbate because it was so innocent and honest. Just the pure pursuit of pleasure without sexual fantasy or desire. It would we 10 or 12 years before my innocent dry-humping orgasms would be replaced by moist slippery masturbation, fantasies of unrealized sex with boys and powerful gripping orgasms.

Eventually womanhood crept in along with marriage and children, and innocence was lost altogether and sex became a complex dance of relationship and physical need. But even now, I occasionally lay face down on the bed, press the heel of my hand against my clit, and ride desperately chasing innocence along with pleasure.