His And HersWe are already a few days into Masturbation Month and still no masturbating *sigh*… I guess sex will have to do.

It’s not that we’re not prepared, we are! When it comes to this kind of thing we’re like Boy Scouts, we are always prepared to masturbate.

Last year we (and I use the word “we” loosely here) took a pledge to only masturbate for the month of May in recognition of Masturbation Month. It was a misguided stunt to shun the shame of self pleasure which nearly killed us both. More specifically, we nearly killed each other.

You can read the whole series if you want, but I recommend scrolling down to start at the beginning so you can witness our unraveling in proper sequence. For Masturbation Month 2011 we have pledged to not make any pledges.

I wasn’t kidding when I said we are always prepared, she has her sure-thing bedside and I have mine in the shower. This is where our preferred toys live. Sometimes the toys see partner-play, sometimes not, but they are reliably placed whenever the urge strikes.

The ever-presence of these toys is testament to an openness about masturbation that our marriage has not always enjoyed. We’re both masturbators, something marriage did not interrupt, but we previously held tight to a shame bestowed on us by repressive upbringings and relegated our fapping to the closet. We eventually grew out of that… and it feels great!

In case you are wondering… Jane’s instant orgasm machine is an Eroscillator, its ability to perform the task is unrivaled by any creation of man. To quote myself, the Eroscillator is… “a sex toy so perfect in function that I believe it must have been designed by a team of highly educated clitorises. I imagine them sipping Cosmopolitans and working, very excitedly, over the design… pushing their hoods back so they can see. The effort required to ride an Eroscillator from “no” to “OH!” is exactly nil. No investment. Big reward. It’s like having a Wall Street Banker for your genitals.

My vagina substitute of choice is a Doc Johnson Tool Box. It is not decorated with external genitalia made to simulate a porn star’s beaver and it would never pass as a household object which could cause embarrassment in a blackout situation. What makes this my preferred go-to toy is that my grip controls the tightness, it gets the job done (well), and it’s incredibly easy to clean. Frankly, if I have to spend 10 minutes cleaning a sleeve and prepping it for storage after I’ve fucked it, forget about it! That’s far too much work when I’d rather just cuddle.

Have our kids seen these out-in-the-open devices of self pleasure? Of course! Do they know what they are? Of course not! But someday they will… and after the horror wears off they’ll hopefully realize sexual pleasure (and even self pleasure) is a normal grown-up thing, even for their whacked-out parents. When the time comes, Jane and I will try to negotiate free family therapy in exchange for an honest review.

Editors note: Research associated with the authoring of this blog entry has determined that Googling “boy scouts masturbating” is not a good idea.