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� I have always done it like this, ever since I was Hardcore quite young. I called it rubbing, and for many years successfully avoided admitting, even to myself, that I was really masturbating. My capacity for self deception is great, it preserves a sort of innocence, even naivete, in me, this ability to deny the undeniable - to deny the power and intensity and frequency of my need to fuck and be fucked. It is why I can talk to a man, and in my mind entertain the most vivid and extreme images and words that describe him fucking me, but my capacity for denial of the truth means threesome the man senses none of this - no hint at all, none whatsoever, of the raw primal awesomely powerful sex and fucking that I am thinking while I talk small to him, about anything but sex. It is this that I think I want to release - I do, within marriage, though not outside it - I want to release the power of my desire, to be seen as asian sexual, fuckable, to be seen getting fucked, to be fucked. I never do - almost never - but here, now, writing this, I am exposing this side of myself. � I used to 'rub' - masturbate - ever such a lot. At first it was only physical - the physical movements, sensations, feelings - but then as I grew older and realised - still without admitting it to myself overtly - I realised that it was to do with sex, so I started to imagine sex. I told myself that I was trying not to have these vivid sexual thoughts - but I was, of course, quite definitely, and I knew, really, that I would have them - I pretended to myself that the thoughts stole up on me, and that I couldn't help it, but that wasn't true - I would think about them, guiltily, building them up, making some kind of more or less coherent picture or scene or story in my mind, so that when I actually masturbated I knew full well that I would have those thoughts - wanted to have them, fully intended to, but pretended they somehow 'made' me think them, that I could not help it. I remember the first time I let myself imagine an actual boy - a boy I knew - as I masturbated, instead of the formless faceless men who had taken me in my dreams and fantasies until then. It was actually hard to let myself think of an actual boy - I felt so guilty, so shameful, so dirty - but when I did, I came so hard, for so long, that I knew I had found something more awesomely intense than ever. I still feel guilty when I think of tits actual men - even when I think of the more extreme sexual scenarios I now entertain in my mind - and the guilt, the shame, somehow make it more intense, make me cum harder. � So that is how I masturbate. On my front, naked, one hand pushed under me, grinding my cunt down, hard, my mind filled with images, feelings, words, guilt, shame, arousal. And I orgasm hard, snaking, naked, crying out, the images and feelings and words intensifying the tidal wave of orgasm as it washes through me. � That is how I masturbate. She blushed and looked embarrassed as I started to kiss her neck. My grandmother used to call me Seraina. Still smiling at asian me, she squeezed my hand tightly and pulled me in for a full on, open-mouthed, I want your dick inside me type of kiss. They had crawled into the tub and left me between them…fitting…but, this wasn’t going to be a fantasy fulfilled, threesome yet…it was going to be my fun night with the boys, and my attempt to earn a reward from Master by small getting Paul oral on me while Mike fucks me…and…to clean Hardcore Mike’s cum from me. “I always love servicing your friends.” “Your mom. I need to plan how fast or slow I need to go with Darleen if he takes a long time.” I said. “Cheppu Dengava..?” she opened my pyjama knot and holding my Ram rod in her hand asked again. Ignoring him he pulled out a gun and put it to her head and told her " now listen your going to do everything I tell you or I'm going to kill you got it"? tits