Editor’s Note: May is Masturbation Month, which I covered in a Planet Waves article recently. My friend Dee Greene has a cool sex blog, and she posted this today. I am republishing it here. She will be able to read and respond to your comments. –efc
By Dee Greene
Self-pleasure is sacred to me. Despite early messages that what I was doing was wrong, or later experiences that taught me to keep it a closely-held secret, I have cherished masturbation for as long as I can remember.
Over many years devoted to the pressure+tension orgasm, I learned how to come while sitting up at a desk with my legs crossed. This method was handy when I was in law school. Sitting at my study carrel in the library, in broad view right next to the glass balcony, I would cross my legs and press, release, press, release, press, release, until the throbbing made my face red and splotchy, my breathing heavy, and beads of sweat graced my neckline.
When I felt frustrated or tired, the desk orgasm was a great pick-me-up. I was subtle about it; exhibitionism wasn’t my aim. But once a fellow student was in the stacks nearby. I didn’t realize this until afterward. He watched as my head involuntarily fell back, jaw slack, my sighs audible. When I opened my eyes and saw him watching me, he blushed and scuttled down the aisle. He never said a word to me about what he witnessed.