Good Wanks Gone Bad

Okay. So we’ve all been there. Right? Had a moment when the urge overtook us to take matters into our own hands and TCOB which then may (or may not have) lead to a moment of embarrassment and possible regret. Below are seven stories of such moments shared by fellow netizens.

I’m Not Ready for My Close-up Mr. Demille
Sometime around 2003 or 2004 we had a video recorder. Ya know, back before cell phones were cool. So for some ungodly reason I decided to videotape my session, and that was the end of that. Anyway, fast forward to 2013 and my wife surprises me and my family for a special occasion with videos of my best friend and I. Cut in the middle of the video of my best friend and I having fun to me rubbing myself through my gym shorts saying some super weird shit to the camera before whipping it out and stroking it on home video. My poor mom freaks out and tries to turn it off but ends up hitting fast forward, so I’m double-timing myself. I have never gotten out of a house so fast in my life.

Source: Buzzfeed

Don’t F*ck with Barbie’s Man
This is mortifying. I still shiver and block it out when the memory arises: I tended to use whatever was available at the age of 16; in my case, my little sister’s Ken doll was just the right size. Being widely uneducated about how it all worked down there at that point, I would just sit on it and rock.

Well, we all know how easily those Ken heads popped off…yep. Into the vajayjay. The problem was, I could not get it out myself. I flipped completely out, thoughts of it going up into my uterus and damaging my internal organs (again, not properly educated!) flying through my panic-induced brain.

What did I do? I told my mother. Took a deep breath, then blurted, “I was masturbating with a Ken doll and the head came off inside me!”

The look on her face was a mixture of anger, disappointment, and embarrassment. But she took me upstairs, and attempted to get it out. I was crying, mortified to the core.

It got worse. She couldn’t get it out. So she got my FATHER…who then got his pliers. That worked.

Dad never talked about it again; mom walked out of the room, scolding me, saying, “Come talk to me next time you want to do that!”

At least I didn’t wind up at the hospital?

Source: thebestnews.com

Making My Own Pickle
I am a 19-year-old guy, and one afternoon I thought it would be fun to insert a cucumber all the way into my anus. I had done this before and was always able to pass it back out easily. Well, this time it went in, and I couldn’t get it to come back out. I also had a previous engagement with a friend that afternoon, so I reluctantly went with the cucumber still in my anus. I was fine for most of the afternoon until I felt it coming! Needless to say I had to rush for the bathroom, but nobody was the wiser. That experience scared the hell out of me, but it was still fun.

Source: thoughtcatalog.com

I Wanted to Know What It Feels Like to Be Pretty
When I was around 12 years old, I would lay on our couch in our attic “rooting for the Yankees.” As a late bloomer, I could jerk for hours without any messy consequences. One day, I forgot to shut the door and my mom came up the stairs to see what I wanted for dinner. I quickly wrapped a nearby blanket around my waist (my pants and underwear were under a nearby pillow) and tried to play it cool. My mom asked what I was doing and I (as a clever 12-year-old) told my mom, “I always wanted to see what a skirt felt like. Maybe one time I can try your heels on? I’m just a curious kid!” My mom never came upstairs to the attic without plenty of warning after that afternoon.

Source: mandatory.com

Work That Pom-Pom Girly
When I was 14, like everyone of that age, I was horny all the time. I had even made a dildo out of an old pom-pom, sickly and strangely enough. I used the little, rubber handle as my plaything.

I had a very private bedroom, the only one on the first stairs, and I had my own bathroom nearby, to boot…so I got away with a lot.

I had gone in my bathroom, and I was masturbating, almost ready to have a major orgasm. I heard my mom call downstairs, “Hey, J***** is here!!!” That was my friend, and I guess she had come to invite me to go out and play ball, or something.

I just yelled back, “Could you tell her Ill be right there, Mom?!” No answer. I didn’t know then that my mom had already allowed J***** to go down to my room already, and that she was hiding under my bed!!!!!

Before anyone could catch me, I scurried to my room with my pants around my ankles, pom-pom in hand. I closed the door behind me, and leaned against it, “finishing the job”. I was sitting there, quietly moaning, got done, and pulled up my pants. I tossed the pom-pom behind my dresser, the usual hiding place. I opened the door to go upstairs to see my friend.

Just as I opened the door, out comes J***** out from under my bed, smiling. “BOO!” she yelled, laughing. I nearly had a heart attack. What had she seen?!?!?!

We hung out the rest of the evening, and she never once let on that she saw me masturbating with a pom-pom handle. GAWWWWW!!!! I still don’t know what she saw, or if she saw anything. The thoughts have rolled through my mind, though, “What if she was under my bed, but facing the wall?” I figured that was the only way she wouldn’t have seen! Maybe she was just being nice, and didn’t want to embarrass me.

I still don’t know, to this day. It was, by far, the most awful thing that happened to me, embarrassment-wise. Scope out the room before doing that kind of thing, that’s for sure! I’ve said it before and Ill say it again…The early teenage years are HELL!!!!!!

Source: thatsembarassing.com

Let the Sunshine In
I almost got caught. Well I was watching wrestling smack down on cable and then Lita vs Torrie Wilson came on, and as you do I felt the urge to have a bit of a go at their presence. Torrie Wilson got her shirt ripped off so I went for it hard…a little too hard. I felt my load starting to come out. I was in my bedroom and panicked. So I got up and started to run for the bathroom, with my hand over my cock. I could feel my hand getting warm from f*cking cum so I was running quick and just as I was about to get in the bathroom, I blew my load on the hallway floor. I could hear my parents watching ER I think it was at the time in the lounge room and I was praying that the commercials didn’t come on. So with the bathroom door open wiping down my dick and hands and flushing stuff down the toilet I kept looking over my shoulder at the big ass load in the middle of the hallway hoping that no one got up. I grabbed anything, I think it was my towel and wiped it all up. Now every time the sun comes through the window in the afternoon u can see a big gizzz stain on the floor. But no one is the wiser.
that’s my story.

Source: forum.bodybuilding.com

Tent Pole
One of my older stories was when I first moved to my dad’s house in Texas. We didn’t have any internet because the cheese goats at AT&T hadn’t set it up yet. So I had to resort to soft-core porn on HBO. Now I’m not sure if you guys know, but it’s hard going from hardcore Lela Star to some no-name bitch who dry humps some cheese goat on some HBO sex special.

But anyways, I tried my best and proceeded to climax when my step mom stepped into my room to turn the TV off. I immediately turned my head and acted like I was asleep while I blew my shit underneath the sheets (I masturbate underneath my sheets for some odd reason but I pull it out when I climax. Yeah, I know weird). Only thing is I had a huge tent poking up from the blanket and she just stared and walked away without turning the TV off. Needless to say it was awkward the next day.

Source: forum.khinsider.com

Shiny, Pretty Things

It’s true what The Beatles opined: “Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends.” I received an internationally-shipped package today from my dear friend, Mr. Ed C. Wood. Take a little look-see:

Now, you might be wondering, “What kind of friend sends another friend a sex toy? Dude. That’s just some weird shit. I don’t even get that intimate with my spouse.”

But you know what? That’s a true friend. Ed is my gay soul mate. We “get” each other. We’re often very much in sync. And to think that when he was given this particular toy as a gift at a conference that he recently attended – and acted upon the thoughtfulness and generosity in his heart to share this with me – well, that really touches me (pardon the pun).

And isn’t that what friendship is about? Not to mention, Ed has a LOT more experience with different types of toys than I do. It’s just a fact. And this speaks to how friends (and partners, if we’re lucky) complement each other. As a friend (and fellow Sex Wonk), Ed wanted me to be able to try something new – even in the absence of a lover – in the spirit of sexual anthropology and exploration. It will help me to enhance my own sexuality at least, but hopefully it will also help you in some way if I’m able to share about the experience and make recommendations or observations about the toy’s use and maybe even (if we’re lucky) we can engage in a conversation about it and help each other.

And I believe in “paying it forward,” too – I have recently helped a long-time friend – through providing research and suggestions and after many years of trying – achieve orgasm on her own. We’ve been discussing this for a long time. I continued to provide her with encouragement and ideas – and when I got that e-mail last week with the subject line that read, “I did it!” I was overjoyed for my friend and felt so good that I had a hand (even if not literally) in helping her reach one of her most treasured goals. What difference does it make if it happened to be sexual? In some ways, it makes me sad that I was the only person she felt she could seek guidance from on this matter.

Along with my shiny new sex toy, Ed also included another sparkly piece:

You’ve probably noticed that my sound quality on our podcasts has been lacking, and we really appreciate you hanging in there with us until now – the audio should be a lot more balanced and better moving ahead because of this beauty. And it’s all thanks to Ed, our tech guru, who you may hear me lovingly poke fun at when he gets all “techy” – but the reality is, THANK GOODNESS for his mad skillz!

Are you fortunate enough to have good friends who have your back on WHATEVER kind of issues you face? Do you have soul mates who aren’t necessarily your lover or partner? Do you have any suggestions on how I can most effectively use this toy?

Please give us a shout.

Love,

Rosa

Rosa.Sparks@sexwonks.com

It’s Just Sex?

In the 1995 movie Jeffrey, based on a play of the same name written by Paul Rudnick, the lead character becomes paranoid about sex for fear of becoming infected with HIV while being sexually active during the height of the AIDS epidemic. Shortly after he’s made the decision to swear off sex, he meets a hunky gentleman at the gym who immediately becomes the temptation he needs to re-asses this decision. As he begins to work through the myriad feelings that result from meeting the gentleman to whom he’s intensely attracted, his friend Sterling, over coffee, counsels—”it’s just sex.”

A few weeks ago, when I posted an ad on my favorite haunt for hooks ups, Craigslist, I was looking for a play partner with whom to try out a new toy. There was a curious result: I received no less than three or four responses from guys who confessed to me that a) they were curious to try anal stimulation/penetration and experience the resulting pleasure, but had never done so; and b) that they were new to exploring sex with other men. As is often the case with the responses I get from such posts, there was only one gentleman who actually showed up at my apartment a few days later after exchanging several emails. He called himself J.

As J. initially entered my apartment I could tell that he was extremely nervous. I thought nothing of it, as guys are often nervous. However, after a few moments of idle chit chat I could tell that J. was really struggling as we were standing and talking. Finally, I said to him, “Would you like to sit down on the couch and talk a little more?”

“Yes, that would be nice,” replied J. As we sat down, he stammered, “As I was driving over here I had what I wanted to say worked out in my head. Now, as I’m sitting here, I can’t recall any of it.”

“We can talk about anything you like,” I offered in comfort.

“I’m not much of a talker,” J. chuckled, “and that makes it kind of difficult for me to tell you what I’m thinking.”

“I find it’s as difficult as we make it,” I observed.

“I guess you’re right,” said J.

As we sat talking for about an hour, J. shared with me that he’s married, but he and his wife are separated by two continents – and that he sees several women regularly for both companionship and sex. He explained that the reason he answered my post was because one of his girlfriends had, at one time, massaged his prostate with her finger while performing oral sex on him. And in his words, “It was amazing.” He further explained that he’s always wanted to experience it again, but for whatever reason his girlfriend has never once again ventured into ass play with him.

The longer we sat and talked it became more and  more clear to me that J. was most likely not going to be comfortable with the thought of the two of us having sex. Shortly thereafter, J. confessed that he wasn’t sure he’d be up for having sex upon a first meeting. And though I assured him several times that it wasn’t big deal to me – and that I enjoy meeting people just as much if not more than having sex with them – he kept apologizing and saying, “I’m so sorry to have wasted your time.”

And I kept repeatedly replying, “I don’t at all feel as though you’ve wasted my time.”

After J. left my apartment, and during many moments since, I’ve thought of those three words of Jeffrey’s friend Sterling: It’s just sex.  And when I think about those words, there is this weird kind of dichotomy that occurs in my mind. Part of me thinks he’s right. It’s no big deal. It feels good and it’s fun. To paraphrase Jeffrey, it’s one of the greatest gifts from the universe.

Then there’s the experience I had with J. For him, sex is anything but trivial – particularly the thought of making the leap from having sex exclusively with women to having sex with men. As I sat and talked with him on the evening he visited me, I could tell he was struggling with any number of conflicting feelings. And as I sat and watched and listened to him, I realized that at times sex can also bring about within us so many conflicting feelings and desires. Those conflicts often make it difficult for us to freely enjoy ourselves sexually.

“It’s just sex,” dear Sterling?

I think not.

ecw
ed.c.wood@sexwonks.com
www.sexwonks.com
@HardEdCWood