If Masturbation is a Sin…

…I am so going to Hell!

This morning I woke with the most delicious fantasy in my head. Me, an old lover, some good music, and a lap dance that turned into a wild ride. Of course this then required a little assistance from the toys, which wait for just such occasions, in my bedside drawer.

It was a lovely way to wake up.

Sigh, these days it is my usual way of waking up.

Not having a lover means not being touched, kissed, fondled, held, licked… all things I miss so much. It also means no morning sex.

I do miss morning sex.

A former lover once asked how often I masturbate.

I thought deeply before I answered. Was this a trick question? Was he looking for a little titillation, imagining when and how I might masturbate, to spice up his days? Was he fishing for a better understanding of my sex drive worried that he wasn’t satisfying me, feeling that my desire for self-fulfillment might somehow be a comment on his abilities?

I took the middle road and averaged it explaining that it changed depending on if I was seeing him, writing erotica, or just having one of those days.

I haven’t had one of those days in awhile.

Those wonderful days where you wake with the itch just on the periphery of you vision. It grows as the day progresses and you feed it. Gently at first by how you walk, sit, and stand. You feed the thoughts that come keeping them fresh and alive in your head. Subtle changes occur. You are just slightly damp all day. Your voice takes on a richness that is usually reserved for the bedroom. In the end you are a walking erogenous zone. The slightest touch or shift of fabric makes you sigh with pleasure.

Walking through the halls you start looking at your coworkers in a new light. Wondering naughty thoughts and curious to know if they can sense your mood. You lick your lips when you shouldn’t wondering if the single guy down the hall would go for a quickie in the storage room but knowing that what you want is no quickie.

After all this, the teasing and fantasies, what you want is your lover and oodles of time. No rush. You want the burning feeling that tingles on the edge of your flesh to drop deep inside you, where only he can touch. You want to explore the chair, the table, the couch, the floor and maybe later… the bed. To be taken every way you ever have before and to try a few new things….

Yes, that is what you want after a day that starts with an itch and ends by burning through you until there is nothing left.

Mmmm…those are good days.

Licks!