If not a full-on masturbation addict, I’m certainly an emotional masturbator. When I’m sad, happy, grouchy, or just bored, my hand automatically r...aches down into my underwear and onto my cock. I can hardly be left alone for a few minutes on a comfortable piece of furniture without rubbing myself. Hotels are the worst—often, the only place to sit down is a bed, so I’m basically just touching myself the entire time I’m in the room.My first memories of masturbating are from when I was about 9 or. I slid out form under max's arm, andstood up. My ass felt numb. I felt cum and lube drying on the back of mythighs as I dressed.I leaned over onto the bed and kissed max on the cheek. He did not stir.I left his room and went downstairs.The club was twice as crowded now and I walked through the peoplelooking at the action with a new understanding. Seeing it from bothsides. I knew what it was like to be with a woman. To fuck one. And nowI knew how it felt to be the woman. To be fucked. I saw. More

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