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Guest blog: first time masturbation

This week’s guest blog is by the excellent Jillian Boyd, who writes her own sex blog over at Lady Laid Bare. She’s got a brilliant way of combining horniness and throwaway, casual wit, and when she sent through her post on first time masturbation I wanted to pop back in time, show it to my teenage self and go ‘see? You’re not alone! Other people are on a rampant hunt for sex material too!’

Here’s Jillian’s take on first time masturbation…

First time masturbation

Long before I started masturbating, I was already having disgustingly hot sex in the comfort of my own head. I was a masturbatory late bloomer, first getting my frig on at the age of 18. But the first time I can actually recall having a sexual fantasy was yonks beforehand – something cheeky about having a steamy kiss with a celeb I fancied at the time that popped into my head during an exam. I’d been thinking about sex for even longer – much like GOTN, I’ve always been curious about Sex Things. Mainly because what I was taught about it in school was a bit… lacking, to say the least.

The sexual education I had (which at one point involved a classmate’s mum, who was a midwife, bringing in a placenta to school for a sexual health class – which was delightful…) did not rhyme with things I was exposed to at home. Clinical explanations about the birthing cycle and things like stumbling upon my dad’s wank magazines lying around the house were not a harmonious chorus – it was like I’d accidentally been exposed to a world that no-one else would tell me about. And while finding a copy of Busty Babes, or listening to my mother talk about how active their sex life still was wasn’t exactly the nicest way to be exposed to it, I still was curious. I wanted to be inducted into this big grown up secret, and I couldn’t wait to get more sex education because I just wanted to be sex educated. I wanted to KNOW ALL THE THINGS and ASTOUND EVERYONE WITH MY KNOWLEDGE ON THE SEX!

Right around the time our four week module on sex education ended -four weeks, second year of secondary school, after which sex was only joked about among classmates for the next four years – I came to the rather horrifying conclusion that all the things we’d learned only covered the reproduction bit. And that wasn’t even the nice bit. Along with the condom bit and the “don’t get AIDS” bit it was enough to send you packing to the nearest nunnery in a fit of fright.

So I decided to put my brain to work. My brain (although we’ve had our differences) is really bloody good at finding sex. Whether a paragraph in a book, an article in a magazine or a late night softcore flick nestled deeply in the TV schedules, my brain will find in two clicks. And so I let the little sex scanner in my brain do its thing, filling my head up with words and images and fantasies that kept me going for quite some time. In the meantime, I devoured whatever I could find on the topic of sex. I breathed it in, ate it up like it was a bowl of cereal in the morning. In a sense, I was quite lucky to be in a class consisting mostly of hormone-soaked teenage boys – more than once we’d be huddled around a laptop watching whatever kind of weird porn one of them had been able to fish up (to clarify, I was in boarding school and this was in the evenings, not openly in class…) Busty nurses and exotic and strange Hentai clips were just par for the course in my self-sex-education.

And the fantasies in my head became more vivid, more real and tangible – so why was it that I hadn’t yet jumped the gun and cocked my trigger? Why wasn’t I masturbating yet?

I’m not asking myself that – this was a question I got asked during a round of confessions with my best mate. Looking back on it, it’s not any sort of weird philosophical reason or fear or anything. It’s a two-fold reason: 1) I had no idea how and 2) even if I had done, the lack of privacy in the boarding house would have essentially made it into a six-year-long game of Dangerwank.

Eventually, one night, after years of having disgustingly hot sex in the comfort of my own head (and regaining my privacy after boarding school), I tentatively slipped my hand down the waistband of my pyjama trousers and into the welcoming warmth of my own soft folds. The first time I touched my clitoris it was like an explosion in my brain. My brain, my long-time sexual companion, was finally joined by my body that night. It was the first time I was absolutely certain that being so goddamn sex curious had paid off – and it really wasn’t my last time either. I mean, I wouldn’t have started writing my blog if my curiosity had been in the least bit sated…

I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did – if you want to check out more from Jillian, follow her on Twitter or facebook and of course please go and visit her blog. Double thanks to her for stepping in and sending this guest blog at the last minute, because I cocked up my otherwise meticulous schedule and otherwise wouldn’t have one for today. So not only is she witty, she’s incredibly quick. I know, right? I’m jealous too.

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