Masturbatory Fantasies

  • Posted on March 22, 2017 at 4:59 pm

Amanda Lynn asked…

What was your favorite thing to Jill, or Jack, off to when you were young?

I am so glad I found this website. I love all the stories, blogs, and reader comments. It is really nice to know I’m not the only person with these fantasies. Anyway, I wanted to post something to the Readers’ Forum.

Recently I commented on a question posed by Cheryl Taggert regarding how and when you first starting masturbating. In my reply I mentioned that my first truly huge orgasm came while I was reading a passage from the novel The Deep. After I posted that comment, my naughty mind got to wondering what other people thought about or looked at when they masturbated as a kid.

For me, I was a big fan of Charlie’s Angels back in 1976, and Jaclyn Smith was the most beautiful woman on TV. I would get so turned on by her, especially when she wore that bikini. I actually tore a page out of one my mother’s magazines. I think it was a perfume ad, but it had a nice close-up picture of Jaclyn.

Speaking of pictures, I also had the iconic poster of Farrah Fawcett in the red swimsuit. I wonder if those women ever thought that somewhere there might be little girls masturbating to their image…?

They were the two big ones for me, Farrah Fawcett and Jaclyn Smith, although I did have a thing for the local news anchor too, but I can’t remember her name now. Those are the only ones that really stand out in my mind — until Sandra Bullock came along, that is. And of course, there were all the teachers, bosses, and subordinates who came and went (pardon the pun) over the years, but were always off limits.

So, tell us about your favorite thing to Jill, or Jack, off to when you were young. And thanks for sharing!

20 Comments on Masturbatory Fantasies

  1. Thanks for the great question, Amanda Lynn. It’s bringing back memories. For me, two special highlights really stand out.

    One is Delta of Venus, the collection of erotic short stories by Anais Nin. I came upon that amazing book while browsing in a B. Dalton’s at the local mall one day. I think I was 14 at the time. Although I’d had a rather sheltered childhood — you might even say stifled, thanks to my conservative religious parents — I was beginning to realize by then that I had a lot more interest in girls than in boys, in women rather than men. I couldn’t or at least didn’t say anything about that to anyone, however. But I was fascinated by what I read in that book, especially the lesbian passages. I remember going back to the mall many, many times, furtively grabbing the paperback off the Erotica shelf and taking it to a different section of the store where I would pretend to look at something else while devouring her incredibly hot prose. Then I would hurry home and secretly masturbate. How badly I wanted to own that book! But I would never have dared to purchase it.

    Also around that time I developed a huge crush on Danica McKellar. You remember her? She was on The Wonder Years TV show, which my parents liked watching. I would watch it with them, pretending to laugh at Fred Savage while aching to see more of Danica McKellar. I can’t say exactly why, but she got me buzzing more than anyone else during that period of my life. Again, I never told anyone about that, at least not until I was much older, but I spent many nights in bed as a young teen dreaming that I was kissing her and touching her while I played with myself.

    • Amanda Lynn says:

      Thanks for posting the pic of Farrah. Guess what I did when I saw it. :) Lots of fond memories.

      I never watched “The Wonder Years” so I googled her pic of her from when she was on the show. I can see why she lived in your imagination at bedtime.

  2. Sammy says:

    There was a wonderful cable channel in Canada when I was growing up called Showcase, kinda like PBS meets Cinemax, which was my introduction to art cinema (especially adult-er stuff like Exotica and Happiness) as well as queer culture in general and most kinds of porn. It was how I watched Queer as Folk and The L Word, the latter of which, alongside the beautiful Mia Kirshner’s performance in Exotica as a stripper in schoolgirl garb, made me a fan of hers for life. There was also Bliss, an anthology series of women-centered softcore with very hot lesbian segments, and KinK, a documentary show that profiled couples of all identities and their various kinks, which was how I found out about BDSM and much more.

    And then Mulholland Drive. I still can’t think of a hotter or more beautiful love scene in a Hollywood movie than Naomi Watts and Laura Harring.

    Like many young boys, I spent a good deal of time with my mother’s lingerie catalogues, though I usually found Sears sexier than Victoria’s Secret. I’m bi, or pan, I guess, but men didn’t much appeal at that point.

  3. Cheryl says:

    Oh, my… the memories!! Do you have a few years??

    First, I remember finding a book that was about an English boarding school. It was a Victorian era novel and was written, of course, by “Anonymous.” This book was NOT short, to say the least. There were pages upon pages of lesbian sex in them as the story unfolded. I forget the full plot, but it was just an excuse to write about young girls involved in lesbian affairs with each other, their govenesses, their female teachers. You name it, they did it. I was around 11 when I found that book.

    I remember staying up late at night and having numerous orgasms while reading it under the covers with a small flashlight. I kept the book hidden under my mattress, and one day it disappeared. I think I was 12 by then. I know I didn’t have it for very long, though it was long enough to have read the entire book twice and marked my favorite parts that I returned to countless times. My mom must have found it and thrown it away. She never said anything to me about it. I’m sure that a few years later when I came out to my parents, she remembered that book, though again she never said anything about it. Anyway, I began my love for erotica with that book.

    As for more mainstream things like TV shows, I remember watching my first episode of “The X Files.” I must have been about 12 then. I remember the show had been on for a little while before I started watching it. A friend of mine had talked about how good the show was. Of course, she hadn’t mentioned how sexy Gillian Anderson was! I was about to come right in front of my parents, who allowed me to watch it as long as they were there (they were always making sure I wasn’t “exposed” to anything “bad”). I was close to coming because from about five minutes after seeing Gillian Anderson to the end of the episode I was squeezing my thighs together. I went to bed that night and imagined Gillian Anderson in my bed, seducing me. My fingers were her fingers, My pussy when I touched it was her pussy (hey, she could have shaved and started growing her pubic hair back!), and I even kissed the soft inside of my arm and pretended they were her lips. (Hey, I was 12.)

    Another crush was any of the girls on FRIENDS. Just name one, and I masturbated to fantasies about her. And who can forget when Jennifer Anniston kissed Winona Ryder on the show? Oh. My. God!! I was alone when I watched that episode, being 18 or 19 by then, and when the topic came up in the episode (Jennifer Anniston talks about she kissed this old friend but isn’t believed), I went ahead and got naked.

    A girl more my age that I crushed on was Alyssa Milano in “Who’s the Boss?” Mostly I watched the show in reruns, which is when I got my crush on her since I was more her age by then. I read she was 11 or 12 when she started the show, and by the time I turned 12 (1994), it had gone off the air. I own “Embrace of the Vampire” with her in it, appearing naked and engaging in soft-porn lesbian sex, and I will watch the erotic parts just to masturbate to her lovely nudity.

    And a young girl I have masturbated thinking about since becoming an adult? Of course… the one and only Emma Watson. I mean, who could resist the young, as well as the growing up, Hermoine Granger in the movies? The first movie came out when I was 19. I went to see it and was instantly smitten. And yes, I own all the Harry Potter movies as well, mostly because of her.

  4. Misty Meadow says:

    I was about 8 years old, in primary school, and one day when it was raining really hard, during the first period after lunch, our teacher noticed that one of the girls was soaked to the skin. She told her to go to the cloak room, take off her dress, put her coat on and come back, which the girl did. She sat at her desk, one row over from me, one row back. As soon as the teacher turned her back to us to write on the blackboard, I turned to look at the girl and our eyes locked. Without warning she flipped the coat wide open, like a modern day flasher, revealing her white cotton knickers and vest. It was a deliberate act of lewd exhibitionism. Had she sensed my interest in her? She smiled at me radiantly and my heart skipped a beat. The whole incident lasted three seconds, max.
    That vision has remained in my head and my heart ever since. I don’t remember her name and nothing ever happened between us. If a little girl did that for me today, I’d be all over her. On sleepless nights, I think about her. Was she sending me a sexual signal or was she just a little girl being naughty?
    Later, when I was in my early teens, I was in my Mum’s office looking out of the window at the car park outside and a girl of about twelve was squatting on a parking bumper waiting for someone. She was unaware that I was looking and suddenly she looked over her shoulder and in doing so, her knees parted wide and gave me a magnificent view of the crotch of her knickers, again in white cotton, my favourite ever since. She turned back, but her legs remained spread. It was a totally unconscious act. I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach. My gut churned and I thought maybe I was having a heart attack. I was not so much aroused as amazed at my reaction.
    Are those incidents the reason why I’m so obsessed with little girls in their underwear? Who knows? I suppose that was when I knew that I’d be a lover of little girls for the rest of my life. Now I never wear anything other than white cotton knickers, except when I wear none at all.
    Thank God for the internet and all those erotic pictures I’ve downloaded. With my laptop, my fingers and occasionally my vibrator, I’m a happy girl.

  5. Jennifer says:

    I think I am totally out of the role, I was never interested in actresses, I was more interested in my female classmates, where I could have had a real chance to get closer to them, I wanted to have something real rather than fantasy I could never have reached.
    And i never was allowed to watch anything on TV, that contained anything to do with sex or erotica, my parents were quite prudes in front of us kids, thanks to god nothing to do with any religious crap, sorry if i offend anyone, but religion, especially the christian church, is a subjekt i really hate,knowing what it has caused over all centuries since it´s beginning.
    Sometimes i found porn magazines under my dad´s mattress, i looked at them with real enjoyment, but only the female sexscenes turned me on, even at that sweet age of about seven or eight,that was long after i started masturbating and orgasming. After that i had the right fuel for my masturbation fantasies and masturbated even more,lol. I guess i was a really premature bitch and i loved anything related to sex from my earliest years on…

  6. PoppaBear says:

    May a guy join in this little festival of reminiscence? I promise not to be gross.
    Jennifer’s reflection on her strict upbringing reminded me of mine, which was religious, Jennifer, and I understand and share your dislike, having been inside and left it behind.
    I could dwell on the hypocrisy, which Jennifer also hinted at, but let’s stick to the fantasies.
    It’s so long ago [sigh] that I can’t remember who I thought of when I started aged 14 or 15 (It was the fifties! We grew up very slowly then.).
    I did have visual aids, and I stupidly kept one (a b/w booklet of photographs, no text) under my pillow or mattress and my Gran, who had moved in with us, found it and showed it to my Mum.
    She asked me to explain its presence and I blamed a friend. How many mythical friends got blamed for embarrassing items?
    I got away with that then, and, my Mum didn’t tell my Dad. I was so relieved then I didn’t think of the horror my little book of nudes must have caused those two lovely kind women.
    Most men seem to need visual stimuli, more than women, but I’ve found the people I have imagined, either as my creation of someone I’ve read about, or more recently, as someone I’ve written about, are much more vivid and effective in creating the right moment.
    My lovely friend Debbie, (where did you go to, my lovely?) challenged me to write a seduction story, which I did. In fact, I wrote two, one about a 12yo girl (my ‘fantasy’ age) and another about an 8yo girl (Debbie’s ‘age’) and now those two fabulous creatures will always feature prominently in the final moments of my masturbatory fantasies.
    And, girls, don’t forget, I’m only going to have one orgasm, so it has to be a really good one.

    PS, Sorry, but you’re never ever going to see either story, for obvious reasons.

  7. PoppaBear says:

    “Also around that time I developed a huge crush on Danica McKellar. You remember her? She was on The Wonder Years TV show, which my parents liked watching. I would watch it with them, pretending to laugh at Fred Savage while aching to see more of Danica McKellar.”

    I had forgotten the name of the show, and the character and never knew the actor’s name, but I’ve never forgotten Winnie Cooper. My daughters watched the show, but I watched Winnie.

    I’ve just checked out Danica McKellar’s biographical details, and I’m pleased she has a a good career as an actor and academic. She was lovely as a young girl and and am sure she was the subject of many teenage lesbian fantasies.

  8. DaughterLover says:

    From my early dreams:

    Danica McKellar – check!
    Jaclyn Smith – check!
    A couple of teachers whose names I won’t reveal :)
    The mother of a good friend :0

    Also, Susan Saint James (from McMillan and Wife). My mom would watch it for Rock Hudson, but my eyes were glued to Susan. I’d always voluntarily go to bed early those nights :)

    And I’ll never forget the first time I saw Ingrid Pitt in “The Vampire Lovers”! Madeline Smith was also hot, but Ingrid lit a fire in me. I’ve been a sucker (pun intended!) for lesbian vampire movies ever since :)

    Current young lovelies that I “gaze wistfully” at include Emma Watson, Danielle Kotch (she caught my eye in one episode of Person of Interest (s3e5)), and several dancers/models (Maddie Ziegler, Camren Bicondova, Larsen Thompson).

  9. Tanya says:

    I’ll begin with a bit of background. I grew up in Sydney, Australia in the 1970s. At my primary school, social groups developed from first class, divided on geographical lines (East side or West side of the nearby railway line) and then by ethnic sub-groups – essentially continental Europeans (such as me, called Wogs) and the Anglo Saxons. I was the only girl in the Eastie Wogs, my sub-group – there were 7 guys and me, all living within a five minute walk of each other and the nearby park. I was tomboyish enough to be included in soccer and cricket games. One of the guys, Peter G, lived next door to me. His parents were Ukrainian, mine were Russian, close enough to get on. The G’s place was our group’s usual gathering place – they had a games room with a pool table, table tennis table and an old pinball machine. More important, Mrs G seemed to have a never ending supply of cakes and biscuits.

    Peter had a beautiful little sister, with the delightful name Anastasia, which I loved and she hated. She insisted that she be called Annie, and so she was by everyone except me. Anastasia was 3 years younger than me and others in my group. She didn’t really have a group of her own. She was always wanting to hang out with us and Mrs G would only let Peter go to the park if Anastasia came as well. Peter and the other guys thought she was a pain in the arse and ignored her. She was not in the least tomboyish – very bright and bookish, but unbelievably useless at any sort of sport. She was very much under my wing.

    Now before anyone gets too excited, Anastasia was not the object of my crush; although she was important to my sexual education. The crush was her older sister Lucy (Ludmilla, actually, but no one could be cruel enough to call her that). When I started High School, Mr G was doing some renovations on their house. Very slowly. Lucy’s room was finished. Anastasia’s room was still being plastered and painted, which seem to take ages, and she was sharing Lucy’s room. Lucy had just turned 16.

    At the time, I was about 11 or 12. I hadn’t started puberty (I was a very late developer – I didn’t have my first period until 15, a very over-rated experience). I was an avid masturbator, if a bit unsophisticated. I started a couple of years earlier by rubbing my naked body over my angora bed spread, which provided considerable stimulation. But the arousal never went anywhere. I didn’t know there was anywhere to go. But one day when I was aroused and messing about, diving on my bed, I landed on my Scotty (a white Scottish terrier doll with a tartan waistcoat). Or rather my pussy did. The most pleasurable feeling, magnified by the suddenness of the feeling. After recovering, I tried diving on Scotty again. More pleasurable. Three more dives and my first orgasm. Closely followed by my second, third and fourth. I quickly learned that the key was the rubbing and the diving was a waste of energy. I did my best to wear out Scotty over the years, but he (funnily enough, I never thought of him as a she) is sturdy and uncomplaining. He still rests on my bed and sometimes a friend and I give him a treat. He would have a tale to tell.

    Moving back to Lucy. I was over at the G’s, playing chess with Anastasia in Lucy’s room. It was a Saturday night. Lucy came in from the bathroom, wearing her bathrobe. She closed the door and took off her robe. Wow. Wow. A sudden, shocking feeling of heart in mouth, followed by deep arousal. She was the first adult I had ever seen naked. Or almost naked. She was gorgeous, wearing only white panties. The image is as clear in my mind now as it was then, 40 years ago. Her body was toned and unblemished. I averted my gaze away from her chest. My politeness lasted for about five seconds before my gaze returned to her breasts. They were big and beautiful with large, hard nipples. Fortunately, Annie was focused on the chess board and was ignoring me. Lucy was ignoring both of us.

    The next hour was the most exquisite torture. I am one of those lucky girls who moves very quickly from arousal to orgasm, to orgasm, to orgasm. But I could do nothing except watch this magnificent show. Lucy was preparing for her debutante ball. She started off by sitting down and doing her toenails. Then her fingernails. Then her hair. All done very deliberately, very carefully and very slowly. When the hair was finally done, she started her make up. Again, slow and deliberate. What made Lucy’s show so insanely erotic was that it was entirely pure and innocent – titillation without any intent to titillate.

    I managed to lose three chess games in a row to Anastasia – I had never before lost to her without letting her win. There was more than chess to interest me. To this day, I do not how I was able to control myself and not start rubbing my pussy on something (or someone). One or two touches in the right place would have given me the biggest orgasm imaginable. Just when things couldn’t get any worse (or better) Lucy sprayed some perfume on herself. The smell of the perfume (I later learned it was Joy) was intoxicating and lifted my arousal to new level. Then, within a few seconds, the pantomime was over. The dress was on, the shoes were on, and Lucy grabbed her handbag and was out the door. Leaving one girl triumphant at her fourth win in a row, the other a jibbering wreck.

    I quickly made my excuses, went home, told my mother Mrs G had given me dinner and went to my bedroom. I think even Scotty couldn’t believe the assault that followed. I’m sure he blushed.

    The experience with Lucy obviously shaped my sexuality. But at that time, I hadn’t conceptualised a girl as someone I could have sex with. I think I have my Baba (grandmother) to thank for a push in that direction. Every Sunday morning, Baba (who lived with me and my parents) and my parents went to Church. Whilst they encouraged me to go to Church, they didn’t insist because I went to a Catholic school where we had prayers every day and mass twice a week. Sunday morning was “me” time and you might be able to work out what I did. One Sunday, I was particularly frisky. For some unknown reason, I left my door open. I had taken off my pyjamas, was having the fiftieth re-run of The Lucy Show in my mind and riding the ever patient Scotty. I had just learned that if I took myself to the brink of orgasm, stopped and came down a bit before starting again, my orgasm would be mind-blowing. I think at that time three rises and falls was the most I could do before losing my sanity. I was going for four. I was building up for the last time and, just when I was about to come, I opened my eyes and there was Baba. I was shocked and embarrassed. I was at the point of no return. I rode Scotty the last stroke and exploded. Not only was it powerful, but it kept going and going. It seemed that the more I tried to stop and hide, the more the spasms and contractions continued. Eventually it ended and I opened my eyes and looked up in Baba’s face. The last thing I expected to see was a gentle, kindly smile. Baba said: “Don’t worry, what you did was not wrong. But you should keep your door closed and never do that with a boy.” I listened to Baba more seriously than my parents – what she said was almost the Word of God. I’m sure that Baba did not mean it this way, but my slightly warped brain thought that never doing it with a boy meant I could do it with a girl. That was a massive leap of logic and led, predictably, to the thought of doing “it” with Lucy.

    I had no idea what I could do with Lucy, but whatever it was, I wanted to do a lot of it. The most I could imagine was Lucy and me facing each other, both riding Scotty and me touching Lucy’s lovely breasts. It was soon embellished by Lucy’s panties being removed and seeing her hairless pussy. At the time, I was ignorant of pubic hair. Seriously.

    Looking back, my child’s imagination might have embellished reality. Maybe Lucy wasn’t all that beautiful. Maybe her long, smooth body was not unblemished. Maybe her breasts were not as large and firm or their nipples as pink and hard. But two facts are undeniable: since that time, perfume (especially expensive floral scents such as Joy) has been a powerful aphrodisiac, and I have always been attracted by the super feminine look – girls with manicured hands and carefully applied make up.

    I fast forward a couple of months, to the following summer. I didn’t see much of Lucy after her show. Her debutante date, I suspect, got very, very lucky and became her boyfriend. She never seemed to be around. Anastasia and I did have some very arousing (to me, anyway), but unfulfilled moments trying on Lucy’s perfume, applying her nail polish and putting make up on each other. But having forced me to watch Lucy’s show, Anastasia then forced pornography on me.

    One day, when Mr and Mrs G had driven Peter to play cricket and Lucy was in the garden with her boyfriend (they loved the swing chair, which was not visible from the house). Anastasia pulled me into Peter’s room. She shushed me, even though the house was empty. She opened Peter’s wardrobe and, with a screwdriver, lifted up the panel on the bottom of the wardrobe. There were a dozen or so magazines in the hidden space. Adult magazines. Girlie magazines. Anastasia asked whether we should take one to read. That was a hard one: errrrrrrrrr, YES. She grabbed one of the magazines, put it under her dress and we rushed to her newly finished room, closed the door and barricaded it.

    It was a copy of “Knave”. I still remember thumbing through it. It was amazing. The first pictorial was two girls playing tennis. Very attractive girls. They were wearing tennis dresses. The tennis dresses came off. Then the bras. Lovely, small breasts. Then the panties. Shock, horror – hair between the legs? Huh? I had never seen a completely naked adult, or even a teenager. I didn’t know that there was any such thing as pubic hair. I had seen some of my friends naked, but they were like me – completely hairless. All a bit odd, as the 1970s was the era of the furry muff. There was no lesbian action – they were on opposite sides of the net, which probably made it difficult.

    Whenever the opportunity presented itself, we went through the magazines. Many times. The arousal from the naked girls was magnified by the adrenaline of taking the magazines in the first place; it was sometimes like executing a commando raid, and invoking trickery by sending Peter downstairs to answer a non-existent call from his Mum.

    You might remember the old joke of a guy buying a girlie mag: “I don’t look at the photos, I just buy it for the articles.” After working through the pictures of each of the magazines, we started looking at the printed material. As we worked our way through a copy of Penthouse, we discovered the letters to the editor in the “Forum” section. Written erotica. Anastasia came across one of the letters, said: “Wow, listen to this…” and started reading it out. It was a routine guy/girl suck and fuck story, but intensely arousing. So this was sex. Sex education at school focused entirely on sex in terms of reproductive functionality. Presumably no one told us sex felt good because, if they did, we would do it. And keep doing it. There was nothing said about sex feeling really, really good, as the people in the stories found it. I now knew that my favourite feelings were called “orgasms” or “coming”.

    Anastasia and I spent hours reading stories aloud to each other. I thought the stories were amazing. The most common stories were straight guy/gal. They were pretty good, particularly those told from the female perspective, describing the arousal, feelings and orgams. There were a few two on one stories – one guy, two girls; the two girls usually playing with each other at some stage. That sounded like fun, particularly when I saw images of Lucy and me as the girls and somehow ditching her boyfriend. There were also a few girl/girl stories: kissing, licking breasts, fingering pussy, licking pussy. Those stories made me hotter than fire. After being left high and dry (I don’t think “high and wet” is a common expression) by the Lucy show, I discovered a way to relieve the pressure during the bible readings with Anastasia. We used to sit cross-legged on her bed. With a small, deft movement, I could put my pussy on my heel and, with a little rocking, the fireworks started.

    I did notice that Anastasia sometimes had to move around her legs a bit to get comfortable. For some reason, I did not consider that she might have been as aroused as I was. Nor did I think of doing anything with Anastasia. It would be 7 or 8 years before I would have any real sexual action with anyone. Geez, I wish I could go back in time. I’m sure Anastasia was as hot as I was: a little kiss here, a little touch there and she was mine for the taking – my teenage years full of lovely lovemaking with the pretty Anastasia. I think it was Oscar Wilde who said “Youth is wasted on the young.” How true. As it happened, Anastasia and I grew apart. I’m not sure why, it just happened.

    My reaction to the stories made it clear that I was much more interested in girls than guys. At the time, I never doubted the veracity of the stories. With the benefit of hindsight, I expect that most, if not all, of the stories came from the fertile imaginations of the staff writers rather than the experiences of readers. Nor did I think that some of the stories were even a little hyperbolic. But what I can say is that no bloke with a cock nine inches long and three inches thick was going anywhere near me, much less depositing half a gallon of jism in or on me.

    My love for erotica developed. I discovered a book exchange in nearby Parramatta, Kelly’s. They sold and exchanged second hand records, books and magazines. I went in there for the first time to buy some records – one of my friends told me she had bought two Beatles records there for $1.00 each. As I was browsing, I saw a little sign saying “Adults Only”. I had a shrewd idea what was there. I very casually walked over. And I was right. My eyes were popping out of my head. There were thousands of magazines – girlie mags and hard core (of all varieties) piled everywhere and erotic books. I found some Penthouse Forum magazines, which were small magazines that contained erotic stories. One had “Lesbian Edition” or something like that on the cover. I had to have it. Had to. Would the shopkeeper sell it to me? I thought of asking someone to buy it for me, but I thought that would be more embarrassing than being refused service by the shopkeeper. The only other person in the shop was a sleazy looking dude hovering around the adult section and leering at me. That made the decision easy – I resolved to bluff it out with the shopkeeper. I took a record, a couple of teen music magazines and put the Forum magazine innocently in the middle. There was no problem. The shopkeeper either didn’t care, or thought my money was as good as anyone else’s. As I left the store, I suddenly thought that going into the adult section in my school uniform wasn’t the smartest idea.

    So I spent quite a bit of pocket money on buying erotica. I did buy a few “Lesbian Love” hard core mags, which were cool, particularly one with a couple of very young looking girls, one with a shaved pussy. But my main focus was erotic stories – books and magazines like Forum. I never had any problem with my parents finding my treasures. I figured that the best way to hide illicit books was in amongst other books and I had hundreds of books on my book shelves, being a voracious reader. I was never rumbled.

    My favourite book ever was a novel about schoolgirls. I think it may have been the same book that Cheryl had, or very similar. Not only was there a lot of lovely schoolgirl sex, there were orgies, spanking, caning, forced orgasms (all fairly vanilla). That book must have fuelled hundreds of orgasms, as well as providing inspiration for games with my friends. My copy of the book came to the same end as Cheryl’s. By that time, I had long since left home. The book was destroyed by a psycho girlfriend, along with every other bit of erotica I had – she regarded my reading, or even possessing, erotica as equivalent to cheating on her, so out it all went. She went the same way as the books, a few days later. I have tried to find another copy of that precious book, without success.

    • DaughterLover says:

      Thank you for your wonderful story, Tanya :) It reminded me of the teddy bear I had when I was starting to masturbate, which I rode to many many pleasurable feelings :) I never thought of it back then (having moved on to other pleasures), but it suddenly disappeared after one of our family’s many moves (my dad was in the military), and recently I’ve wondered if my religious mom smelled more than shampoo on my stuffy and decided to get rid of it :D

      I, too, developed an early liking of Penthouse Forum stories (a neighbor’s dad had a box full of them), and to this day the images that form in my mind while reading good erotica (such as on this site!!!!) are much more gratifying than the commercial pornography I’ve seen. Maybe I’m just not seeing the right stuff, but images of models in too much makeup holding awkward poses just doesn’t punch any buttons for me.

      ps If either you or Cheryl can remember the title of the books you referred to, please be nice and share with us :)

      • Cheryl says:

        I no longer remember any titles. Wish I did. However, you can probably find a number of these books. They were written in the mid to late 1800′s and were always by “Anonymous” because actually putting your name to such stories would never happen.

        Come to think of it, Cheryl Taggert isn’t my real name either!

        :)

        Hugs!

    • PoppaBear says:

      Two great big thank yous; first to Tanya for this great reminiscence and to Amanda Lynn for leading us all off down memory lane – such a wonderful place.

    • kim says:

      thanks for sharing, I loved erotica as a young teen (still love it), and some of your experiences are very similar to mine.

  10. kaiakitty says:

    I caught “Sabrina the Teenage Witch” on reruns and crushed pretty hard on Hildy and Zelda, Sabrina’s two aunts. There was also a show I watched when I was 7 or 8 called “Birds of Prey” and I remember thinking that the actresses on that show were really beautiful. That got me into comics, where I eventually found myself fascinated by a character called “Power Girl”. I don’t know if there are many girls that got interested in comics because of that, but I am one. Buying comics actually led to my awakening…when I was 11 a very nice old lady sold me a box of comic books at an estate sale. She must not have bothered to sort through them, because hidden away at the bottom were a couple of porn magazines and some extremely explicit lesbian-themed comic books. So under the covers with a reading light was my first time…such a guy thing! I’m almost embarrassed to admit that instead of some romantic fantasy about a teacher or a friend, I lost my masturabatory virginity to a 90′s porn star named Busty Belle. I should have saved myself for Sabrina’s aunts.

  11. Snowflake says:

    My teddy still gets some use

  12. Zeke says:

    honestly, I’ve never been into celebs or movies or much on the non-sexual side like many here (not to say I don’t fancy some), rather it’s been a huge drive toward watching women pee (ANY) and it’s ruled thoughts and fantasies since I started thinking about it when I was so little, about 5, which is the time I had my first orgasm while crossing my hands and grinding the end of my uncut peinis over them. I don’t remember a lot how much it played after that about actually getting off. until the time I turned 14 or 15. The fantasies really became stronger with girls in my class (no one specific, just whoever came to mind.) I thought I was freak of epic proportions and as soon as I first got on the internet, I began searching for any sign that I was accepted as far as that was concerned (just like here, but not as in a monumental way.) Once I realized I wasn’t alone, the rest is just history.

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