Wanking is about instant gratification, the quickest possible route to an erotic explosion, the act generally brought on by sudden overwhelming stimulation so that relief is an urgent need. Masturbation is something else entirely. It's a pleasure in it's own right where the eventual crisis is the soprano's Top C at the end of the opera, but not what the whole performance is about. Masturbation is the ultimate entry into a pool of beautiful arousal, a kaleidoscope of overlapping pleasures where you, your body, and the ivory tower of your erotic imagination come together in a glorious aria of blissful stimulus. Masturbation is something you plan in advance and dress or undress for with care, your body naked or possibly clad in a light silky shirt as you recline on a soft bed or decadent couch, your moist cleft or engorged member uncovered and available to your questing fingers as you slide off into a steamy jungle of perfumed pleasure. Those of us who take it seriously plan for it as carefully as with a seduction, the bowl of fruit by the bed, flickering candles, and a glass of champagne to lift the mood.
In contrast to this erotic self indulgence, Wanking tends to happen wherever the need elbows itself to the forefront of everything else in people’s lives, in adolescent sock strewn bedrooms or in railway station lavatories, trousers round knees and the engorged member aimed at stained porcelain. People commonly have a wank when they can’t have person on person sex, whereas masturbation is its own pleasure, a separate part of our sex lives where we engage in the ultimate sex act, that of making love to ourselves.
So which do I do? Overwhelmingly I prefer the slow simmer of masturbation which experience has shown me leads to both sweeter and more powerful climaxes, but inevitably when some unexpected stimulation overwhelms me and it is beyond me to resist I have a quick wank to exorcise it. What I try and do, though often fail, is to store up the image or concept that has aroused me until I have the time for a lengthy act of self pleasuring, but it’s not always that easy. When the need hits it’s often not possible to fight it, and of course sometimes, replaying the scene or image in the cinema of one’s imagination cannot quite recreate the glorious arousal that occurred first time round.
The wonderful thing of course is that when it comes down to it, like everything else related to sex it’s all good in the end. We could write pages on whether it’s better to fuck or be fucked, or spank or be spanked, or any similar comparison without coming to any definitive conclusion. My principal hope is that if the things I write, or the images I post stimulate people to have better and more arousing sex, either with themselves or with a partner, then I have succeeded.
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