Confession time – lengths one goes to fullfill the need – some personal history and thoughts
Post by totaladdict » Sat Apr 12, 2025 10:13 pm
The more you know about someone, sometimes they can seem like other people.
Some of us, the ones who keep our addiction a secret, would appear alien if their real life associations found out about how much of their day-to-day activities, thoughts, and fantasies are occupied by a hidden life. Perhaps they’d think us odd, weird, perverted, disgusting, objectionable, reprehensible, sad, pathetic, weak, feeble minded, slavish, wounded, traumatized, wicked, exhausted, freakish, you freak, you loser, whatever you imagine they’d think of you if they knew the totality of it all.
Some of what they’d think may be true, but if you’re far-gone, that thought may be part of the overall addiction trick–that humiliation and unique set of psychological realizations belonging to each masturbator, and knowing it made you an addict, well, this turns you on. Putting a name to it? Now it is a trigger word. What was shame becomes erotic association. The thought that someone might know something or might find out about how extensive it is… that excites. Perhaps. It may do other things, too.
Each path to addiction is unique and so is the story of its progression. Yes, if discovered, all normal people would almost certainly be shocked. How that surprise presents, well, that depends. Perhaps they always suspected and this is confirmation. Their reaction is less shock and more outrage or worry or revulsion. Perhaps they had no clue, and this is a revelation, an apocalypse of personality and relationship dynamics in the real world. The discovered party may be mortified for some time when the memory flashes back. If they’re truly gone, they may get exceptionally turned, if not soon after then in the course of the addiction’s progression through time. If some legends be true, there are those who make it their purpose in this new Internet Porn Age to monetize their addiction to the fullest.
Abandoning shame to expose their own addictions to masturbation, edging, exhibiting itself, and porn has a profit motive now, not to mention for the right person, a lot of sexual satisfaction.
This is a small part of my time meandering the road of perdition, to pornosexuality, to masturbation compulsions, to discovering new triggers and thrills, to the lengths I was willing to go to sustain my gut turning, heart pounding, cock swelling… need. I’ve mentioned this bit in the past, but I’ve never elaborated on the context. This is that context.
Posted elsewhere, but fit to purpose here.
Life long pornosexual edger here.
When I can make the time, and I mostly manage to, I spend at least three to four hours an evening in this seat after work, right at this porn station or ones very similar to it. On days off, anywhere from eight to over twenty hour watching, collecting, and edging to porn if at all possible. A reasonably conservative estimate of six hours a day on average is 2190 out of 8760 hours a year spent revelling in my inescapable pornography addiction.
My life has been engineered to accommodate my porn habits, so I have maintained a lifestyle that has allowed this degree of porn consumption for the last 27 of my 45 years. More or less consistently. Only ever abstaining when I just cannot indulge. I knew early on that I wanted, craved, longed for–yet tried to resist mightily–a life where I could use porn and edge any time I needed to. I knew my dream of this life was possible when I got my own room with my own PC I built, and a heavy door that locked (with a coaxial cable ready to go!) when my family finally sold the farm and moved to a nearby town with high speed Internet available when I was about 18 (verily, the month after the start of my first ever semester of college). That was a significant inflection point in my ability to covertly escalate my porn addiction at any time. Upgrading from dial-up where 1 jpg = 15s to 3m to multiple instantaneous jpgs and the ability to download many videos at once in minutes instead of one over hours or days.
At first I fought it, this addiction, given my sincere religious convictions in addition to the cultural stigmas around porn and masturbation addiction back then. Convictions I had been schooled in from birth warred with my growing awareness of my inability to just stop for good. I might make it a day, or maybe up to three days, between relapses. Or as I understood it then, backsliding into sin. Each stroke was a sin, but yet I could not deny my flesh. In the end, my faith died on the vine and porn took its place. I understood this from very early on as my porn addiction, collection, and use increased over time–this deceitful and wicked heart of mine, seeking after the desires of the flesh even though I knew better. I asked myself after every edging session, “Am I even a Christian if I can’t love God more than porn? What am I?”
Even through my religious education (beginning in 1997) which progressed to an MDiv in theology, my pornography addiction could not be suppressed or ignored. It grew steadily each time I indulged.
Before school started, I booked myself for a solitary dorm room. After school started, I was so glad I had paid extra for a solitary dorm (it had two beds with no barrier between them), knowing well ahead of time that I would need privacy to be certain I could look at porn while masturbating without getting caught. I loved the idyll summer of endless nights of edging, in solitude, just prior to the start of school again. That summer was like my dream life before it, wishing to explore it all without fear of getting caught, and wanted to continue that. Despite my secret 10 year battle with porn addiction up to that point, I knew I would not win the fight any time soon and planned ahead.
Inwardly, I was deeply concerned that my addiction was noticeably growing even as my sincerity to fight it did too; it constantly outdid my willpower. I even started theological training itself as a means to draw myself closer to God because back then, with my religious goggles on still, I suspected it would take divine intervention to save me, to deliver me, from my deeply rooted addiction. I was saved, to my theological reasoning, I hoped. I had said the sinner’s prayer when I was five, and repeated it often to make sure the deal was still fresh–usually after a lustful thought and always after looking at porn, in addition to repentance itself. The remorse was very real. I was desperate to be free of this thorn in my side. But despite being saved, after learning more, I knew I was badly in need of sanctification. I knew I needed to be purified by the indewlling of the Holy Spirit, the Ethos of holy action and behavior to the Logos of the received divine wisdom and the salvific contract. I knew I risked my salvation, under certain theological frameworks, by my repeated sinning. I hoped deeper understanding by formal education would go some way to bringing that purification process about. I was wrong about that idea, nothing changed at all and instead my addiction has only grown over time.
An endless line of relapses dogged me, followed by guilt and remorse, the heartfelt re-dedicating of myself to my Lord and Saviour and trying to resist forever. “That was that last time, Lord!” Only to inevitably give in once more, sometimes within hours. I recall one relapse distinctly. I had resisted for several days, maybe two or three–doubt it was four. I had finally cracked, since this was after the move into town and it was now so easy, and started watching porn with high speed capabilities again right after dinner. I started around 8PM when everyone was in their rooms and I wouldn’t be bothered. I edged that night until I noticed the sun showing through the window near the ceiling of my basement room. I looked at the clock: 6:20AM. I remember that being a moment of reckoning for me: that is the longest ever, this is what you have become now, you may never be able to overcome this sin.
Prior to that record, I felt my will crumble when I let my mind work with a memory of a time before “I stopped forever,” as I was edging to porn, as I worked to make money for school in the fall. I had gone for hours before, but never resisted for over something like 5 hours. I had dismissed myself for one of my frequent edging breaks, which I called pee breaks, and went to rub out a quick one to the idea of edging for 24 hours or something. While I was edging, I had an idea, “Why not see how long you can really go?” I didn’t cum in the stall. I knew I had the following day off and had recently started to really extend the edging time as long as possible, so I cleared my schedule and forgot about time to see how long I could edge for. I was committed. Later, I would see this in distinction as a lack of conviction around my faith. I busted soon after I finally noticed time again, slightly from the worry and guilt, and also because I realized the heights of pleasure were mine for the taking at any time. That is, this wasn’t a one-off, I could go even further if I just committed. I wanted more, even as I inwardly winced at the realization and the implications.
My first year of what would become six years of theological schooling (97-2003), when I was 18, I went to great lengths to circumvent the campus network monitoring to get access to porn within the first two months. Two others had already received written warnings and were almost expelled in our year in under a month of commencement–secret porn addicts and masturbators identified. They warned us they were watching in the student indoc briefings at the very start. It was then I learned my method to get around their watchful eyes had worked–they were hit but I was not. I wondered if they couldn’t resist, or did they figure they were smarter than the network admins and their tools?
I knew I had to be very careful, so the Internet I did have access to before I bypassed the monitoring elements, I used in such as way as to obfuscate my actual usage. Searches terms and in languages their software was unlikely to monitor for, but would yield similar things. If spelled in Greek or Hebrew, it would be dismissed as someone doing homework, for instance. The preview thumbnails were cold comfort for someone with my history (clicking a link was asking to be caught), but it sufficed when paired with my imagination and saved erotic literature. Back then, pornographic options were not so widespread and languages were not always well “documented” for porn searches, so it took work. When it paid off the dopamine hit was great. My solution to restricted access was simple but risky to solve, and it came by luck.
When helping to move some boxes around to help out before our first classes, or even indoc, I noticed the room we were filling had an Ethernet port. We were using Ethernet ports into our rooms as this was before widespread WiFi. About two weeks into classes at an off-campus get-together, I met an actual hacker–I watched them crack a CD key in real time as he wrote the code to do it from scratch (had an actual comp sci degree, doing his masters in theology). He casually mentioned that one of the ports in a specific auditorium was totally unsecured–you could “see” the whole network. I instantly remembered that unused port down the hall. I soon tested my PC in that stuffed storage office after I faked being sick to get out of morning chapel service, which literally everyone attended–students, teachers, even the janitors. Everyone. Unless someone else was actually sick, I had about 45 minutes of being totally sure of freedom of movement. I was flooded with lustful joy when I tested it and found out it was like gaining root access (I was an early and deep adopter of technology, as early as dial-up when I discovered the Net was a gateway to unlimited porn around 93). I could see what admis saw via logging, and I could see that I was not being seen. Green light. Perhaps admins had assigned that port to unrestricted access because they used that room for admin stuff in the past, and just left it that way? I’m not sure why, it seemed widespread, but their lapse was my luck. I prepared to connect to it via my room afterwards. I thought up a way and bought a big spool of network cable.
I would lay awake at night until well after midnight when I figured everyone should have been in bed, accounting for time peeing at some point after cramming, then peeing again, then back to sleep. Early hours of the morning. I pulled a cable to my room from that unsecured port down the hall that led into that unused office space commandeered for storage. Unrolling the cable in small amounts at a time. 2-3 tiles, about 9 feet, at the most to minimize exposure through the movable light particle board ceiling panels that ran over the hallways and into our individual rooms. Zero evidence after I was done, no holes drilled, leaving nothing visible save for that professionally straight looking blue wire extending behind the boxes into the ceiling. I used different handwriting in all caps, “DO NOT BUMP. KEEP PLUGGED IN. NETWORK MGMT,” on a big yellow sticky note taped to the end of the cable where it plugged in. Risky, but my need was strong.
Since we all shared bathrooms with scores of other students along one hallway this meant I could be busted at any second. I slowly moved a random chair down the hallway (to reach the ceiling with) with a waist-height fake potted plant as cover. As part of my cover, I would covertly “prank” by slowly moving other decor around. I hoped I might have a snowball’s chance in Norway of surviving an inexplicable situation. I had a line, a plausible alibi about hearing movement up there and looking for signs of animal life. Thin, but it was the best I could think of to explain my position as I extended my “prank.”
When I finally connected it, I was already hard as a rock. I had brought some old porn magazines from when I started collecting a secret stash over a decade earlier, but it was not the thing I was used to by then. External drives were not expansive nor cheap back then, so my small internal drives could only hold so much and I knew I’d need more soon. I had been aching harder and harder as I returned to my room each adventure, exceptionally so in the last three days, knowing I’d have it soon. I needed the dopamine of all-night edging sessions again with new porn and the dirtiest of erotic fiction. It was probably around 2AM when I got online in my dorm the final night, and I didn’t sleep before class. I edged and then blew a load in my underwear.
Then I walked out the door to attend morning chapel service. I probably looked like hell, and the extent of crushing guilt was halfway to convincing me I was destined to end up there. I recommitted myself again silently in the pews, nobody the wiser.
At this stage, despite what the above may transmit, my life is balanced with work, friends, hobbies, etc. Though at times I do neglect what and who I ought to be more attentive to so I can feed my addiction, but I still manage. I have had long term romantic relationships with great sex (just harder to access porn and indulge when I need to be sexually performant in a relationship at the same time). Decently well informed and egalitarian, curious and non-judgmental by nature, not someone one would likely suspect. I am not a basement dweller nor do I broadcast my edging habits to those around me. I am passably fit of body and mind. I initially kept my secret out of social and religious necessity for decades, out of shame and guilt, and the need to preserve my porn, when it was vulnerable to such, from confiscation or my own reputational damage whatever the circumstances.
It is nice, after all these years, to fly a little bit of the freak flag among those who already know. Greetings.
That’s the context, or most of it.
Greetings to new members I have not read yet, and a hello to the old ones.
Now you know a part of me a bit better. Much better than anyone in my life will probably every know outside of a select reader. That is to say, your kind. If you did read, thanks for reading. I am open to questions or comments. Or critiques, if that’s the nature of it. DMs or here, either is fine. I try to be open to insight, change, personal responsibility, being mindful, positive personal growth–odd as that may sound with an addiction such as this!
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Re: Confession time – lengths one goes to fullfill the need – some personal history and thoughts
Post by hairybi » Sun Apr 13, 2025 8:51 am
I have thoroughly enjoyed reading Totaladdict’s post and relate to his life journey. We share the same story.
“My life has been engineered to accommodate my porn habits.” When I first was shown playing cards in elementary school, I was fascinated with the pictures, and later, reading Kinsey, Nancy Friday, and other experiences, was fascinated with the written word. I would look for magazines along the road as early as ten, before I could ejaculate.
“Each stroke was a sin, but yet I couldn’t deny my flesh.” I was taught masturbation was a sin. I needed the escape, the intense feelings, the joy, but after the act, felt intense guilt, convinced I was going straight to hell.
“That was that last time, Lord!” Only to inevitably give in once more, sometimes within hours.” I tried to stop many times. I prayed I could stop, I even decided that if I didn’t ejaculate, I wasn’t sinning, so I learned to edge, and all that did was prolong the pleasure even more, and had many wet dreams.
“I had brought some old porn magazines from when I started collecting a secret stash.” I kept a stash of pornography in a locked file cabinet, even as a teenager, in college, and, then when married, kept several magazines. I would periodically have a moment of guilt and would pack them up and throw them away in a dumpster away from my home and then start the collection again. There was a time I even went to the dumpster to see if I could recover some.
“I was an early and deep adopter of technology, as early as dial-up when I discovered the Net was a gateway to unlimited porn around 93” Technology opened new horizons for me. I, too, embraced it, primarily to feed my need for porn.
“I have had long term romantic relationships with great sex.” So did I. And still do. I was married to a wonderful woman for years, who died much too early. Now, I’m living with a man, and we have great sex as well.
“my life is balanced with work, friends, hobbies, etc.” I like to think that my life is balanced as well, I just need some time alone with my cock and porn for the pleasure it gives me. I still work, and manage a social schedule. I even still go to Church periodically.
“I initially kept my secret out of social and religious necessity for decades, out of shame and guilt, and the need to preserve my porn” I still do.
Re: Confession time – lengths one goes to fullfill the need – some personal history and thoughts
Post by totaladdict » Sun Apr 13, 2025 3:31 pm
hairybi wrote: ?Sun Apr 13, 2025 8:51 am I have thoroughly enjoyed reading Totaladdict’s post and relate to his life journey. We share the same story. “When I first was shown playing cards in elementary school, I was fascinated with the pictures, and later, reading Kinsey, Nancy Friday, and other experiences, was fascinated with the written word. I would look for magazines along the road as early as ten, before I could ejaculate.”
Likewise! I obtained some playing cards with photos of nude women on them from another boy. They were easy to hide, that pack. I carried them around with me all the time after I just first got them. If I needed to masturbate, it was easy to find an out of the way spot, or the bathroom which locked, and edge to the little pictures for a while. My favourite erotic print were those like Penthouse Forum, with moderate imagery and heavy on the fiction, fantasy, and realism. I was always drawn to stories written from female perspectives. Early on I had no way to inquire about what sex was like as a woman, but I was so curious about it. Reading erotica was informative and hot. I learned a lot, edging for hours at a time while I did.
“I was taught masturbation was a sin. I needed the escape, the intense feelings, the joy, but after the act, felt intense guilt, convinced I was going straight to hell.”
Same. More, even lustful thoughts are as if you committed the act itself depending on the particular sort of religious framework in view. So even remembering sinning, even if you are remorseful about it, recalls the object that causes sinning–triggering more sin as a result. When I was sorry about looking at porn as a boy it also reminded me of porn and I grew an erection. Trapped. Guilt wraps itself around the erotic experience too, adding to the taboo nature of mere masturbation and the use of pornography. In a very real way, my early masturbation life was more heady, erotic, arousing you could say, because of the transgression against holy writ and the decrees of an almighty being. Not just something I wasn’t allowed to do, but when I did it I was consciously aware that all manner of spiritual beings may be viewing my habit–and certainly an omnipresent God sees every thought and stroke. It was sinful, and also in some sense if you truly believe, spiritually exhibitionist. I felt exposed and vulnerable before my Lord. Shame was built in to the act itself and also the post-orgasm clarity. He watched my mind as I prayed for the strength to resist temptation and failed. God watched me cum thousands of times according to my internal worldview at that time. This eventually became an erotic thrill in itself–masturbating before God.
“I would periodically have a moment of guilt and would pack them up and throw them away in a dumpster away from my home and then start the collection again. There was a time I even went to the dumpster to see if I could recover some.”
I had huge collections I threw out–magazines and other clippings and bits and bobs. Multiple full-sized garbage bags at a time when the guilt would stack up enough that I felt compelled to throw it out. But… since we grew up in the middle nowhere, there were never any dumpsters to throw them away into. So I would wait until everyone was out of the house, pack up what I had and hike way out into the forest. Like I mean way out. I needed to sort of get semi-lost so when I dropped the stash I would have a hard time retracing my steps. I would cover the heavy duty trash bags up and try to dead-reckon my way back home. The process took hours because the hike had to be that long. Because I was always going to end up a pornosexual like I am today, I inevitably regretted my decision to toss the stash and would start collecting again within days to weeks. I would often spend days or weeks trying to retrace where I dumped the last collection. Sometimes I was successful, other times I was not. The flood of relief when I recovered a guilt-dump site was so good. Since I was already over an hour from where any human lived, and if the weather was right, I would spend all day masturbating to porn in the forest then figure out how to get it back after.
“I still do [hide the addiction].”
Same here. I see no near-term future where that ever becomes common knowledge to those in my life! This part of myself I reserve for the initiated only.
Re: Confession time – lengths one goes to fullfill the need – some personal history and thoughts
Post by oktostroke » Wed Apr 16, 2025 7:24 am
Wow….quite the story totaladdict that reveals much about the guilt and shame some of us may have felt in our younger years as we grappled with the need to masturbate and our porn obsessions. It helped me to remember my own porn magazine purges. I would buy so many magazines the size of the collection would outstrip my ability to hide my secret stash from housemates, friends, and girlfriends. I had boxes full of porn mags. So I’d purge a 100 or more magazines only to find myself rushing home to masturbate to a newly purchased pile of them a few days after a purge. Relative to my income in my 20s I spent ALOT of money on porn. At least nowadays if you have a phone or laptop endless porn is free for the masturbator to enjoy without the inconvenience of a large porn magazine stash! I definitely struggled with some guilt about my secret addiction….I masturbated so much and couldn’t stop. Still do. And yet masturbation and porn were the very things that excited me sexually. I had partners and partnered sex because that was expected behaviour but always grew bored of it compared to pumping my cock to porn. Gradually over the years I think most of us long term porn and masturbation addicts come to realize that this is who we are and it’s ok even if society at large pretends masturbation is a second-rate substitute for partnered sex or the domain of the morally depraved. Speaking strictly for me, I love what my addiction has given and continues to give me in pleasure.
Re: Confession time – lengths one goes to fullfill the need – some personal history and thoughts
Post by totaladdict » Wed Apr 16, 2025 8:14 pm
oktostroke wrote: ?Wed Apr 16, 2025 7:24 am Wow….quite the story totaladdict that reveals much about the guilt and shame some of us may have felt in our younger years as we grappled with the need to masturbate and our porn obsessions. It helped me to remember my own porn magazine purges. I would buy so many magazines the size of the collection would outstrip my ability to hide my secret stash from housemates, friends, and girlfriends. I had boxes full of porn mags. So I’d purge a 100 or more magazines only to find myself rushing home to masturbate to a newly purchased pile of them a few days after a purge. Relative to my income in my 20s I spent ALOT of money on porn. At least nowadays if you have a phone or laptop endless porn is free for the masturbator to enjoy without the inconvenience of a large porn magazine stash! I definitely struggled with some guilt about my secret addiction….I masturbated so much and couldn’t stop. Still do. And yet masturbation and porn were the very things that excited me sexually. I had partners and partnered sex because that was expected behaviour but always grew bored of it compared to pumping my cock to porn. Gradually over the years I think most of us long term porn and masturbation addicts come to realize that this is who we are and it’s ok even if society at large pretends masturbation is a second-rate substitute for partnered sex or the domain of the morally depraved. Speaking strictly for me, I love what my addiction has given and continues to give me in pleasure.
Yes, I think you brought up an interesting point: the ability to actually get porn is much easier now. It was a struggle to find, transport, and hide all of it back in the day. I remember the vague sense of unease when I was smuggling my newly acquired porn before I could drive myself, usually hidden inside something within my backpack. While it was very unlikely that anyone would access my pack or ask to see what was inside, I was always aware that the chances were non-zero. It was a risk to get and use porn back in my day. Once I was into porn, I knew that most people my age would love this even if they wouldn’t say it, just like I did and wouldn’t say. When the Internet became as easy to get as water five years later, I figured there must be way more of us now. With the Internet, all that potential risk is no longer a consideration. Even the casually curious can take a peek for the first time, at any, practically risk free no matter their standing, upbringing, nationality, gender, age, etc. That ease of access has changed the game.
I have been noticing a shift in the demographics of masturbators over the years. One, there are way more of us–by a lot. Two, women are far more represented than at any time I have been aware of before–multiples more women now than when I started paying attention. Not only are total numbers up, but it is also far more representative of our entire species as a whole too. It was rare that anyone would have called themselves a masturbation junkie or porn addict twenty years ago–least of all women. It was a mark of shame but that is undergoing some sort of alteration.
This latest generation all had access I only dreamed of, and that is shaping some into porn addicts who are also aware they are porn addicts as this process occurs–and they love it. They are also aware that their generation is unique in this way (they see more of each other than others on modern social media) and that following generations will have it even easier than they did. Because some, a growing number it seems, are keen to remove stigmas around it and are evolving rather robust, closed social networks focused around their love of the lifestyle. To them it is a choice, one they are making early: porn is better than sex. Even if they are sexually active, they are aware that masturbation is where the true heights of pleasure are contained. Once you know you know.
It is fascinating to watch them seek out older generations of masturbation experts and pornography historians to up their addiction game and edging techniques. These groups are not difficult to find. They often find each other on major domains like Reddit then take the conversation to Discord (or similar) where group interaction is a better experience. They are situational and constant turnover is the norm. Even though numbers are most often minimal in these breakaway groups, the interaction level is higher than more established channels for such things. Content then, if we can call it that, is of higher quality and more meaningful for the interacting user. It is porn; it is self porn; it is addicting to many and reinforces all their addictions just like solo edging. So now, even the frequently shared fantasy many older generations of masturbators had of a meetup with the like minded (possible but meaningfully difficult in practice) is now only minutes away–live and “in person” with another addict like one’s self, or many at once.
In effect then, what was done only ever in secret a single generation or two before without any realistic hope of sharing it with anyone else, is now seeing a trend towards placing it out in the open. Where open indicates open access to a shared space (like the Internet in general). Before, you needed to know someone well to find your way into that space in the real world, or go to crowd spaces like XXX theatres and their like. Now, total anonymity at any time, if that’s how you want it, and the relationship (if any) can form out of that. Much like people meet through an after-work sports league and find others with similar passions, this sort of free association is now happening among edging fans and porn addicts globally. Primarily among the most recently porn-raised, edging-addicted, generations. Why? Access. The pathway to that world is somewhat convoluted for those new to technology or this sort of application of it, still. Those worlds always existed–this forum is such a space–but I think this coming moment will be different. As the barriers to it become less difficult more will take it up I think. Just as a result of the sheer rise in numbers alone, if anything else.
The numbers are up. I don’t have the data in front of me, but if memory serves, from the time I was born to now the number of porn addicts has roughly tripled. In tech terms, rate of adoption, or the pace at which people first use a new technology, or use it in a novel way, after which it gets adopted by demographics or entire civilizations. This curve often first shows up in two main groups first. The first general group is the hardcore early-adopters, which can include anyone of any age–often flying the nerd or geek label. The second, after the EA group tests it and champions it, is primarily younger generations who tend to be curious and familiar with evolving current technologies and their use cases. So this trend makes sense of technology curves and the availability of a product for a demographic that is becoming numerous enough to pass an inflection point. To sum up, both the technology to share the addiction and the material that is the addiction plus the number of people with the desire for that are growing and evolving.
I can’t make a specific or general prediction off of any of that except that I think the trend will continue. What this will mean, I do not know. A subtle sexual revolution perhaps? Perhaps not quite that far. But at this point, the term gooning is understood by a growing number of people in the under-35 category. I have seen the usage of the term on mainstream Twitch and YouTube channels with millions of subscribers–not as the subject of the video or the channel, just a casual reference to it. That is, perhaps, a sign that consciousness is growing–conscious awareness that many do it. A consciousness that a lot of others recognizes, if not always reflecting, now exists. There will be no putting that term back inside Pandora’s Box. To me, that is a kind of wow moment.
Re: Confession time – lengths one goes to fullfill the need – some personal history and thoughts
Post by EarlyBeginner » Wed Apr 23, 2025 11:43 am
Hello totaladdict, I am really enjoying all your scientific statements here (yes, scientific, nothing less), and I am agreeing to all your conclusions and speculations.
I am very interested in women, and I am very sure that the number of female porn consumers is increasing rapidly. The reason: Yes, easy access. I imagine a common situation as following: Teeny woman lying in bed in the evening. Her smartphone is small and convenient to hold in hand in bed. Some whats app conversation with her best girl friend about cosmetics and the coming school day. Then time to sleep, but still in some mood and needing a little sleeping pill. The switching to xhamster porn site is only 2 steps on the phone. I have the impression that women watch the same (often primitive and stupid) stuff as the males. Penis serving, women giving blowjob, hard sex. But the contents women like are another discussion here.
Then the little decision, maybe already yawning, the little routine: Pyjama trousers or panties down a little. Giving the clitoris the quick rub that she is used to. Orgasm after 1 or 2 minutes. Panties up, sleeping.
You can find a lot of masturbation videos, amateur and self filmed, holding smartphone in the left, working clitty with the right. Very routine and natural.
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