From Vanilla to . . . - Sex Stories

From Vanilla to . . .

I published a piece entitled “Sexual Awakening” which was the second “chapter” in the series “My Sexual Odyssey.” Within these pages I am recounting my multi-decade journey to live out, deal with, and confront my sexual fantasies, desires, and curiosities. This story is the first chapter.

I grew up with about as vanilla a public persona imaginable, but inside smoldered a very curious sexual creature. I tended to read adult-level non-fiction at an early age which led me to scholarly works which introduced me to sex (books likeThe Naked Ape).

Despite the dry, academic prose (penis,vagina; nococks orpussies), these narratives aroused me sexually (children have vivid imaginations) and I began to masturbate (though I cannot remember at what age I started) thanks to the most improbable stimulants (of course, the occasionalNational Geographic with photos of topless natives were a welcome visual aid).

I moved on toPenthouse andPlayboy magazines in my early teens, busing into New York City from the suburbs to buy them. I liked the photos in both, butPenthouse was the winner (but I still enjoyedPlayboy, even reading the articles, interviews, and stories. My folks were okay with me having aPlayboy subscription from my junior year in high school.).

The combination of thePenthouse “Forum” letters and the magazine’s photo spreads (it was “soft” core then, but I could see pubic hair and breasts of women posing provocatively) were my go-to masturbatory aids. I branched into ...

... nineteenth century erotic literary works likeMy Secret Life,The Pearl andThe Romance of Lust (all by the incredibly horny and lucky Anonymous), which continued to do the trick in helping me to cum (and I discovered I loved to jerk off to the written word as often as possible, imagining experiencing the activities in the books and letters).

The stories were beyond belief, just like the “Forum” adventures, but I had a great imagination and raging hormones. Alone in my bedroom two floors away from parents and siblings, I would work my cock tirelessly every evening and morning, going through box after box of tissues (it helped to have allergies as my “cover” for using so many). I loved looking at women’s bodies, imaging getting lucky like those who wrote the Forum letters, while I wanked away.

Of course, like all red-blooded teenage males, live women and girls turned me on, drove me crazy, and none more so than my aunt Celia (and subsequently her daughter Eve, though that was a few years later).

Celia had a great body, the perfect hourglass shape (in my teen mind). I do not know what her bra size was, but I would guess somewhere in the 35-38 full C range with a narrow waist and hips on par with her chest. And she kept me guessing and wondering about those measurements for years, dressing very provocatively for a thirty-something woman (she could sure fill a bikini).

I dreamt of her body, what it would look like without those clothes; what it would taste like (already ...