The diddler's blog post. August 5, 2012
As I wrote in my last blog post, I learned many things about masturbation from reading books and magazines at my public library beginning when I was 13. Even though I started masturbating long before that, my technique really improved at that time as I read everything I could get my hands on in that library. Previously, I thought of masturbation as something just to "relieve the horniess." After spending all that time at the library reading, I made it my goal to get better and better at making the masturbatory experience as good for myself as possible.
As I had written in my July 3 post, the idea to use a mirror between my legs during masturbation came from the library. But--as I had also written in my May 5 post--I was very ashamed of how big my inner labia were. At the time, I believed I had deformed them through my constant and uncontrollable bouts of masturbation from a very early age. And, yet, the account of what I had read in that library from the woman who wrote about mirror use seemed to defy my own common sense to be ashamed about being well-endowed. The woman wrote about watching her vulva respond to her touch as she masturbated. She said that as she got closer and closer to orgasm, everything became more and more engorged and the sight of her vulva doing that aroused her even more.
Needless to say, I was intrigued, turned on, and shocked all at the same time. Once I got home, I sneaked my mother's make up mirror from her dresser, took it to my bedroom, and put it between my legs. Never before had I seen myself from that angle, and I realized with horror that my "deformity" was even worse than I had feared. I stifled my negative feelings, though, and remembered what I had read in the book at the library. I pretended that I was that woman as I began to masturbate as she had done.
There are no words to describe that very first mirror session I had at that tender age. My already too-big vulva grew bigger. It was a terrifying crimson, purple, and brown. I fingered and fingered like I always did, but it was freakish and unsettling to see my sensitive parts get stimulated at the very moment I was doing it. I was already too far gone, I thought. There was no turning back from a lifetime of masturbatory indulgence. There was no way to reverse it all. I dlddled with abandon, knowing it was useless to resist. And when I came, I welcomed the relief.