At 23 I was dating this fitness guy J. He jogged and worked out and had a seriously descent body and a photo portfolio of himself. A cool easy going kind of guy. I don't recall him getting angry often and when he did it was nothing much.
Hot stuff and sexually frustrating in bed (seems to be the type I go for). He watched too much porn mags and all the rest. His sexual style was the same as porn movies. Change positions every few minutes. Just as I was getting into a position and it was feeling good he moved me into a different position. He took ages to climax and I never climaxed. The change of positions was too much and I couldn't focus.
Months into seeing him ... well let's just say if I had balls they'd be blue. I talked to him about it and nothing changed. I was having dreams of sex with other men and climaxing. Once I climaxed in my sleep and woke myself up. He comes over that night and I tell him I climaxed that morning. He's not miffed about somebody else making me climax in fact he doesn't even ask me about who did it though he assumed someone else had. Later in the bedroom he makes me climax. It was the ONLY time he did.
Some time later he's staying over and we're lying in bed together after having sex and him climaxing. I'm feeling so frustrated I'm going to pop so I decide in the moment I'm gonna do it. When I think he's dozing off but not quiet asleep and I start touching myself. Wondering if I'll really go to hell? Wondering if God will strike me down with lightening. Trying to hide it, making small movements, trying to be quiet. I finish myself off and feel that instant relief and gratification. That was the first time I touched myself.
By other standards I probably started late, for others I shouldn't have started at all. It took me a long time to get that Christian voice and upbringing out of my head. It took me a long time to feel like I wasn't doing anything wrong or bad.
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