Xmas Eve Masturbation Memory
Christmas Eve always brings back my favorite masturbation memory.
So long ago. 1964. I was 19.
My first real love Bett and I had gotten back together a few weeks earlier after a breakup when I’d first entered college. Sitting on her couch late Christmas Eve with just the lights of the tree on. Her parents had gone to bed. By now Bett and I were very accomplished “heavy petters”. (We were a little behind the curve, folks, I admit; in those days we weren’t courageous enough to fuck yet. You didn’t fuck until you were at least engaged to be engaged we thought. ) We had been ‘necking’ that night for a good half an hour. It was kind of romantically perfect in the low light and the soft Christmas music. I still remember her kisses as probably the best that ever were.
We had gotten to that stage where the French kisses were long and very passionate, we were breathing hard. I had already gotten the top of her dress open and had been indulging in her favorite play: I kissed and sucked her nipples in between French kisses while she held my head to her chest and guided me from one breast to the other – the girl was in charge of just how far a guy could go, at least that was the way it was for me and other “nice” boys. From there she would give me some body signal to begin sliding my hand up under her skirt for that long slow advance to her pussy. Continue reading