Story on Masturbation
City: Los Angeles
Yes, I climaxed at age eight.
The first time I masturbated was when I was eight with my lion stuffed animal. I can't remember why I chose the lion, but my time spent with Mr. Lion definitely felt nice. I'd thrust my bare vagina into his fur while laying on top of him dry humping and building to climax, and damn did it feel good.
Yes, I climaxed at age eight. I didn't know it was climaxing, but I knew how to get there by myself and that it felt good. So good I couldn't keep this wonderful feeling to myself, so I took my best friend into my mom’s attic bedroom, tucked behind my room for privacy, and showed her how to thrust into a lion and the feeling it gave you. Picture it, two little girls butt naked on a bed next to each other with me saying, "Now get on top of him and rub yourself into him." I didn't know that it was masturbation per se, but it was the best discovery of pleasure I had experienced – aside from staring at the TV screen watching the sex scenes from Waiting to Exhale with Whitney Houston in her maroon lipstick while alone at home.
Shortly after turning nine, I moved on from Mr. Lion and the attic room to the bathroom above my mother’s tea shop, on the rolling office chair in the waiting room. Still discovering more and more about how thrusting was the key to my best climaxes. I never shared the experience with anyone except my best friend. Even while not knowing what I was doing, I knew it was something to be hush-hush about; that it wasn't meant to be boasted about. I didn't come out and share the story freely until I was an adult and realized this was something everyone did, and that it was a healthy and normal thing to feel, enjoy, and do.