Fetish Confession: Flying Solo

I was recently extremely delighted by a writer for XOJane.com who chronicled her obsession with stalking her husband’s lube bottle. The writer, Eliza, was intrigued by her husband’s masturbation habits, simultaneously turned on by the mystery of it all and slightly hurt by the fact that he was masturbating instead of seeking her for help.  I found this to be an interesting combination of reactions. Not everything is black and white.

A couple of my girlfriends get pretty upset when their guys go solo–especially if they are using porn to help them out.

I view masturbation like long road trips. Often I find I need to get somewhere, and a road trip is in order. Usually, I like to enlist a friend for company–it makes things more interesting and allows the time to fly by. However, now and then I want to get in my car and go alone, with no distractions other than my own thoughts and no passenger-seat interruptions  (Can I put it in now? How about now? now?).  Getting off is the same–usually I want a buddy to help me out, but sometimes if you want a job done right you just gotta do it yourself. This in mind, I would never give my guy (or girl) shit for going at it solo..in fact, I have found it is quite the opposite.

Sort of similar to Eliza’s lube OCD, I developed a weird fixation (not quite a fetish) on my guy getting down to the beat of his own, uhm, drum. This fixation has followed me and my relationships since highschool. I know what my solo-sessions are like, but am totally mystified as to how a guy gets off on his own–does he drag it our or get it over with band-aid style? Does he know some cool trick I am clueless about it? What is he thinking of? My ego is not so big as to think he is fantasizing about me all the time–so as long as it isn’t an animal or my mom, I don’t really give a shit. In fact, if he were to share his solo fantasy with me, it would probably be a major turn on.

So, if my life were a porno, I would tell my boyfriend I’m into watching him get into himself, he would give me a show, I would get a facial (say whatt!?), and we would both be happy. Right? Wrong. Every time I have brought up masturbation with a boyfriend–any boyfriend!–they have totally clammed up and either lied (“I haven’t done that since I was like..15..” Right, and I don’t shop for shoes online when my boss leaves early. Really. I don’t.) or been freaked out and convinced I was trying to make them feel guilty or pigeonhole them. No happy endings for me.

And so the interest, for me, will remain unresolved, and I will have to unleash my frustration on a pint or two of home-made banana ice-cream..

Oh, and to clarify the difference between attractive, it’s-good-for-you  masturbation and a masturbation problem (some people have trouble with this..): The thought of my guy getting off on his own while he thinks of me–super hot. Finding my (ex-ex-ex) guy behind my bedroom  having himself a private party while smelling a handful of my sweaters–not so much. True story. Apparently 14-year old boys have no shame.

On that note..


About SexyTofu

Good food. Good sex. Good fun.
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