Trigger warning: describes childhood sexual abuse
My sexual story starts at a young age—I was a really cute kid and got a lot of unwanted attention from older men (“grown ups”). I come from a Muslim country and was taught that my purity is one of my biggest assets. When my dad died, my mom tried hard to protect me and my sister from the big bad world, but let in a wolf in the form my father’s friend. I remember liking the feeling of being wanted by him, but I did not understand the physical side of it, though as a child I used to hump the bed and had orgasms from a very young age (not from him, though). When my mom found out, she went nuts and shamed me, and cut off ties with him completely. He wasn’t the first—there were others before him who had put their hand down my panties while I sat there, distracted. I started putting on lots of weight—in retrospect, probably to protect myself from the turbulence of that situation. I think my father’s friend was using my mother as a way to get to us kids (apparently he tried to coerce my sister as well—something I didn’t know until last year).
Battling with the weight issue during my teens, I outwardly always tried to make it seem that I was happy in my skin and didn’t want to change for anybody, but that always meant that the “guy I liked” didn’t like me back (or preferred my skinny best friend). So I wound up in a couple of relationships with desperado types who were a little bit embarrassed to be with me (and very embarrassing themselves). As you can imagine, the sex was not so good (for me), and I faked a lot of orgasms to make them feel good about themselves while resenting them a little bit. During this time I also had a bit of a lesbian fling with my very sexy best friend. She had the nicest tits and the most beautiful lips—she made me orgasm so hard and I still fantasise about it a little.
I started using sex with my last boyfriend as a validation to feel bad about myself. Then I discovered his alternative online life which showed what a sexual deviant he truly was—I was nowhere close, so I left him and finally started getting my shit together, now, as a 24-year-old woman. I spent most evenings after my Master’s lectures in my bed with my big pink rabbit vibrator, smoking weed and masturbating away to lots of online porn (a habit I picked up during the relationship with said ex) and had a great time doing so. I could obtain pleasure which finally didn’t result in bad feelings and dissatisfaction.
The man I am with now is someone I met after this phase—I’m still fat, but I think he likes me for me. He is my intellectual match, and I think he is so sexy, and damn does he make me feel good. I have finally been able to come during sex (almost during the first time!), and I feel loved and safe and happy. But I still hide the fact that I love to masturbate and do it every time he isn’t around. I think it might make him feel bad to know that my “appetite” is bigger than the sex we have, but this conversation might happen in the near future because he listens to me when I say something is important. Though with him I really do have to explain my logic and not be cryptic about what I’m trying to say—something I really have to work on after all those years of people pleasing.