Well it is the best masturbation story I have heard yet. Happily in our continuing celebration of Masturbation Month my friend, Rusty Bush provides another installment of her workshop masturbation experience.
“… though I had already enjoyed myself quite a bit, I wanted something; something new. I hadn’t yet rifled through the drawers in the work bench. I just figured they were empty or at least not very interesting. I could have not been more wrong.
The first drawer I opened looked like it had a pile of user manuals for some of his tools. The second drawer looked to have the same sort of stuff… except there was a glossy piece of paper peeking out from the pile. I took out the top manual (for his drill I think) and bingo. I found Dad’s porno magazine stash. I went back to the frist drawer and found that once again only the top layer was actually drab manuals. There was probably 20 magazines or so and I leafed through them. Wow. Not Playboy’s. These were pretty racey. I was both surprised and impressed. Dad has a flair for the exotic I guess. It’s kind of surprising when you think your parents are sexually conservative and bland, then find out that one of them is into pretty hardcode stuff. Anyway, I found one spread of photos featuring a redhead (skinnier than me, but pretty), with a black woman and a white guy. The guy took turns with the women and it was pretty hot. It was hardcore though. I began touching myself again, continuing to leaf through the magazine.
Managing to get myself worked up again, I opened a 3rd drawer. There was a metal box, and of course I opened it. It smelled. It was filled with crinkled up paper towels with some yellowed dried “stuff” in them. I though Dad had blown his nose in them, then realized what they were. My brother masturbated alot and had a stash of Kleenex’s under his bed that he thought nobody knew about. These wadded up paper towels were what Dad (or maybe even his friends) had cummed into. it was gross but it was almost sexy too. Dad had this solo sex life that Mom didn’t know about. I did though. Knowing felt intimate some how again. Weird, I know. There was also a bottle of baby oil in that drawer. I took it out and figured I’d find somethign to do with it.
Drawer 4 was less shocking but more useful. Dad doesn’t smoke but once in a blue moon he likes a cigar. There were half a dozen metal cigar containers in there and a lighter. Now for anyone who likes fine cigars and knows what their containers look like, they will realize that they are the ideal size and shape to be a makeshift toy. years before when first learning to masturbate I had found a discarded metal cigar case and used it for vaginal and eventual anal (my first anal toy) masturbation.
I grabbed one of the cigar containers and could tell that a cigar was still in it. The cold metal made me shiver as I went immediately to where my thighs met underneath my pubic hair. I put one foot up on a toolbox. The cold was intense but felt great too as I rubbed the length of it over my labia. I was still wet. I few strokes and I slid it inside. The perfectly smooth and not overly thick tube went inside me easily and initially the cold continued to make me gasp.
I began masturbating and thinking how some time a man… Dad or one fo his masculine friends… would hold this very tube and later smoke the cigar inside. The one that was inside the tube that i was now masturbating with. It made everything feel taboo and that continued to excite me.
I remembered the baby oil and paused my masturbation to open the bottle and dribbled some oil on my index and middle finger. I leaned forward and applied it to my anus. I knew from past experience that cigar containers are the perfect size for my bum. Indeed, as I pushed the end of the tube against my rear, it hurt a bit but slid in without that much effort. there was a bit of residual cold but the tube was almost body temperature and I was simply enjoying the painless penetration of my bum. With my spare hand I rubbed my clitoris and fell into an intense masturbation rhythm. This was paused momentarily when the oily tube slid out of my bottom. It wasn’t super easy to keep it inside without holding it with one hand. I slid it back into my bum and masturbated some more but the same thing happened.
“Fuck” I remember yelling out. I then realized that if anyone was home early I would have been busted.
It wasn’t the case. Anyway, I noticed that the end came off the tube and the cigar slid otu a bit. Initially I just worried that Dad could tell that the container had been opened. I then had a filthy perverted thought.
I lay on the cold cement floor once again, and knees bent with legs open. I now held the rough paper wrapped cigar in my right hand. There was no going back once I did this. A masculine older man would one day have his mouth on this cigar… his lips wrapped around it. as I touched the tip to my still wet labia, I thought that that man would now have his mouth on the same thing that had touched my pussy. It’s difficult to explain how dirty but excited that notion made me feel. Through the cigar, my pussy was now indirectly going to be touched by some unknown man. Than man would have some microscopic residue from my pussy wetness touching their mouth. … and yes, I know that that man could even very well be my own father.
The taboo nature of these thoughts made me incredibly aroused and I ended up rolling the cigar in my wet labia. The cigar went frmo dry to damp and even wet. I looked at it in the dim light but could see that most of it was now dark with wetness. I pressed the tip inside just a bit, but worried it would break apart and stopped. It was too much to bear, so I put the cigar down and simply masturbated furiously using my own fingers. This climax was even more intense and I gasped audibly while the electricity of my climax shot through me.
When it subsided, I lay there. Again, the dull ache of the cold floor permeating through my feet, bum, and back. I felt shame for having been so aroused by something so wrong; but I also revelled in just how good I had made myself feel. As I recovered, and sat up, my hair actually sweaty despite the cold, I saw the cigar more clearly. It was wet almost it’s entiure length. How long would it take to dry? WOuld Dad be able to tell? What if he found it? would he smell me on it? I ran upstairs (still naked and quickly used the hair dryer to get it as dry as possible. There I was. Naked, blow drying my own wetness on the cigar. I wondered how noticible it would be.
Then panic. A car pulled into the driveway. I sprinted downstairs, i stuffed the cigar inside it’s tube, and wiped it with some windex to get the oil off of it. I managed to sprint to the main floor and was ascending the stairs to the top floor and my room as Dad came through the door. I figured he must have seen my bare bum turning the corner to my room, but would figure out an explanation later. He never mentioned it.
The only fallout from the event so far is that I left out a couple of Dad’s porn mags, which my brother was chastised for. He wasn’t in that much trouble. Anyway, that was my little misadventure. I’m a bad, perverted woman. … I am not boring though.
For those of you still aroused and wishing to continue your masturbation celebration with something more visual click on of the links to the right or even this one.