Caress Your Nipples – The Night Before Christmas
I arrived home on December 23 and commented on a MarriageHeat.com poll regarding the Hot Monogamy Lifestyle and masturbation. People encouraged me to share what happened after I caught my mom masturbating in preparation for a date with my dad, so I wrote the story. Writing the story was enjoyable and made me reflect on how I learned to self-pleasure and gain confidence in my sexual identity as a woman, as well as in giving and receiving pleasure.
After I submitted the story to MH, I considered submitting more single-woman masturbation stories. Since I was 14, I kept a journal. I included times of masturbation and my thoughts in my journal. I found three journals from my teen years and started reading posts by my younger self. Some of my posts made me cringe, and I was surprised at how often I masturbated, influenced by both good and bad events.
The diary entries spanned middle school, high school, parties, and breakups. I also read about the fantasies I had with my crush, Josh, who was my lab partner in chemistry class.
It fascinated me to see how much I grew and evolved as a person and woman. I appreciated my openness and honesty while documenting my feelings and experiences. At the same time, I thought, “Oh my gosh, I was such a perv!” I still am, I guess.
I chuckle, feeling embarrassed. In the story, I wrote about the day I caught my mom masturbating. I wrote, “You know, that whole ‘salad’ thing? It’s just a fun way to describe it. Not literally, though – I don’t eat salad while doing it!” Great memory! (Click here to see the “Sexual Salad” story)
I glance at the window, watching the snowflakes dance against the glass.
Outside, the winter wonderland stretches as far as the eye can see. The snow-covered trees sway gently in the cold breeze, creating a serene landscape that whispers, “Welcome to Christmas Eve.” As I flip through the worn-out pages, I notice how my mother and father modeled a sex-positive attitude.
The memories come flooding back – all the highs and lows, the laughter and tears, the dreams and fears.
I add some scented candles to enhance the ambiance, filling the bathroom with a heady aroma of lavender and vanilla. As the water fills the tub, I strip off my clothes and look in the mirror.
I look at myself. Earlier, I noticed a journal post where my mother told me to take time to look at myself. “Feel your ears. Outline your nose with your fingers. See your nipples. Caress your nipples… She encouraged me to learn how to love God’s creation of me. You cannot love others unless you learn how to love yourself. She mentioned that people believe that loving yourself and your body is somehow evil. Instead, love each moment you get to be here.
Don’t look at your body to idolize it; love it in a way to serve it and “steward” God’s design of it. (My mother and father are ministers, using words like “steward”). You are unique and wonderfully made. If you do not see that, others will not.” She then went through the list of dangers. “Stay humble. Stay teachable. Think about others above yourself.”
I turn the water off and continue to look at myself, seeing a naked woman in her early twenties.
I say to myself, “Take a closer look at me. Feel my breasts. Caress my nipples. Look at my belly button. Touch my pubic hair. Feel my inner thigh. Run your fingers across your lips. Touch your clit. Stroke your vulva.”
“Praise God, girl, you’re pretty sexy!” I exclaimed, breaking the silence of the room. My hands trace along my curves, feeling the softness of my skin. My fingers slide down my stomach, over my navel, and between my legs.
I stand in front of the mirror and stroke my clit gently, savoring the sensation. The heat is building inside me, a slow burn that consumes my senses. I close my eyes, shutting out the world around me, focusing only on the feelings coursing through my body. Lost in the moment, I’m completely absorbed in the pleasure of my touch. My breathing deepens, becoming ragged and uneven. Pounding in my chest like a drumbeat, my heart races. My body aches with desire, yearning for release.
I stop and get into the bathtub. I sink lower into the water, submerging my head beneath the surface. The water laps at my cheeks, cool and refreshing. I take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of lavender and vanilla. My lungs fill with air, and I exhale slowly, watching bubbles rise to the surface.
As I lie in the tub, I can’t help but think about Mr. Right. What kind of man will he be? Will he be tall and muscular or thin and athletic? Will he have dark hair or light? Regardless of his physical attributes, I know one thing for sure. He will be a man, someone different from me. He will have his desires, and I will be eager to fulfill them.
In my imagination, I create a Christmas scenario. I shut my eyes and picture coming home with my new husband for Christmas. I don’t have a specific person in mind, but I know he is passionate. He delights in appreciating the beauty of a woman’s body and celebrates it with his eyes.
I envision my father at the door, greeting us as we walk in. He thinks, “This man is lucky! My daughter looks stunning.” My mother hugs me and embraces my new husband as well. She smiles at me, thinking, “Mr. Right looks genuinely happy with my daughter.” My husband, in turn, thinks, “Your mother looks amazing for 48. I think the same.”
As I enjoy my bath in this scenario, my fingers start caressing my breasts and nipples. As I touch and caress my body, my scenario transitions into sexual snapshots. In one scene, Mr. Right slips his hand up my dress at the dinner table, teasingly stroking my pussy. Then, my imagination takes us into the bathroom, where Mr. Right takes me from behind as I bend over, holding onto the counter and looking into the mirror.
My fingers are now circling my clit. Next shot. Mr. Right is watching me pleasure myself.
“Ah, this feels so good,” I murmur, sinking deeper into the tub. The candlelight flickers on the walls, casting a soft golden hue over the room.
My hands move down to my thighs, tracing along the smooth skin, almost as if I can feel Mr. Right’s gentle touch, soothing my nerves and calming my racing heart. I sigh softly, my muscles relaxing further into the warm water.
“I hope you’re out there, Mr. Right,” I whisper, staring into the flickering shadows of the candlelight.
My fingers trail downwards, brushing past my hips and onto my inner thighs. The soft-touch sends a tingle up my spine, and I arch my back instinctively, reveling in the delicious sensation.
“Mmm,” I sigh, my voice floating on the warm, humid air. I lean back slightly, allowing the water to support my weight. My eyes flutter closed, and I focus solely on the intimate contact with my body.
“Mr. Right,” I moan as my fingers reach my most sensitive spot.
I press harder, rubbing my clit with increasing urgency. My heart races, pounding in my chest like a war drum. My breath comes in short, sharp gasps, echoing in the quiet bathroom. The tension builds, mounting with every exquisite touch. I can feel myself teetering on the edge, ready to plunge into the abyss of pleasure. I moan, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back against the rim of the tub.
My climax is building, and I cannot and do not want to stop it. My breathing grows heavy, my pulse races and my fingers become slick with arousal. I stroke my clit faster, harder, desperate for release. I cry out, my voice echoing in the empty bathroom. “Yes, yes, oh God, YES!”
Wow! What a great way to start my Christmas break. I am looking forward to reading more Marriage Heat stories. I may have time to submit another one or two. Who knows what fantasies await?
This is amazing! Really glad you have a positive outlook on sex and your body. Keep the stories coming!
I submitted this story at Christmas time. So it it about a two month wait. Good to know.
Wonderful. With the stories from young women the last few days I feel spoiled for the amount of writers in the making that this site features. There's also something of an answer to the question that I'm continuously asking, which is, what do women want? Don't stop writing, not only do you have talent but you're helping me answer that.
I want intimacy. I spiritual intimacy with God. I look forward to the complete physical someday, if that happens.
MMMMMMMMMMM, very nice story! I loved it.
Very nicely done! I loved how you created an ambience and slipped slowly into a fantasy. You’re very lucky to have parents that encourage you and set a positive example. I do pray that you find Mr. Right. Blessings!
My parents are special to me.
Wow, beautifully written, EW! I hope you continue to write more. Hearing about your masturbation story has helped me be more grateful for the gift of masturbation. As a fellow single, sometimes it starts to feel like a chore that I have to do just to keep my sex drive from going crazy. But slowing down and being intentional about it, as you’ve described here, keeps the focus on the beauty of God’s creation and what He’s blessed us with.
Now I’m going to have to indulge in this gift of masturbation as your story has made my cock rock hard 😂
Cool!
Very well-told and hot story. Mr Right will be a most fortunate man.
It is so fun to hear young people who are not only Godly but take an interest in knowing about sexual relations, exploring their own bodies, and therefore will arrive in marriage with great knowledge of what works for them! And, if your Mr Right is smart,,,He will listen to you for suggestions on how to please you.
I will make some suggestions though.. Because it took us ( a couple who met in the late 70s–44 years married now) along time to arrive at that 'sweet spot' of the physical aspect of marriage, where we both enjoyed it equally.
I encourage couples to be 'touchers'. It doesn't have to be just PDA—intentionally find ways to make contact with yur spouse from the get =go….lean into each other while working in the kitchen (bumping butts, I call it)…sit beside each other while watching TV, any TV show…make contact with the other's leg , foot, arm, hand, whatever— offer foot rubs and insist on yours….a real man should not have to be asked to rub your feet, or give you a good massage at the end of the day…aor anytime, really…And real men should want to do these things for their spouses….
Spouses should not respond to a request from the other for a foot or back massage to be a 'chore'—when offered and given in the right way–without strings of expectant sex attached..YES physical contact MAY lead to that,,but (Men especially listen) perform plenty of the massages without the expectation/demand for sex……and you'll be happily surprised how many times massages (or even non sexual contact during the day) will lead to that naturally—it's not paying hard to get–jsut doing an intimate physical gesture w/o expectations / demands jsut goes a long way to add to your wife's affection…shows yur interest is in her, not Sex…and you'll get more than yu expected….or when yu do have a good day, topped off by a bedtime massage, then yu might take a chance on 'asking or indicating yu want more'.
for women, jsut realize how much it means when yu girls put the moves on us (your attitude probably not gonna be problem in this area)..
anyway thats all until my book come out. (kidding)
From a fellow single gal…thank you for this intimate snapshot of your masturbating habits. I, too, love some alone-time where I pleasure my body and dream about Mr. Right. I confess to having fears and hesitations when it comes to marriage (partly because my parents are not the sex-positive couple that yours are), but I use those thoughts to spur me to more prayer and pursuing greater intimacy with Christ. He only can satisfy me, and He does. If He intends to give me a man, I know it will be at the right time and bringing all the assurance I will need. There are seasons where I badly want to be loved and held and desired by a Godly, strong, masculine man, which makes the self-care moments more intense and enjoyable! I guess we just keep waiting and dreaming. 😋
I really liked how you learned to admire your body in a God-honoring way. I'm grateful to say that I think that way too! Certainly there are aspects I wish were different, but through fitness and good nutrition I am building a better body, and contentedly accepting the things I can't change. We are works of art that should not harbor shame. Christians and the church in general need to teach that. I used to avoid looking at myself nude in the mirror because I thought it was wrong. Not anymore!
Great story! This story reminds me of my friend's mother who encouraged us to love our bodies and to become confident in our sexuality as monogamous man oriented women.
What in you teen diary made you cringe?
Would it be useful to others if you shared?
Thank you EmpoweredWoman for you story, and thank you for you openness about your sexual fantasy and 'mister right', and the good example that it sets for others that sexual fantasies and sexual thoughts fits with the Shulammite.
Song of Solomon, Chapter 5.
Vs 2.
I slept, but my heart was awake.
Listen! my beloved is knocking.
Vs 5.
I arose to open to my beloved,
and my hands dripped with myrrh,
my fingers with liquid myrrh,
upon the handles of the bolt.
(It is about him in between those verses.)
Something else you need to know about this girl in chapter 5.
Who is she?
Chap 1:8 “fairest among women,”
Chap 4:7 ‘You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you.’
Chap 5:2 “flawless”
Chap 5:9 “O fairest among women”
Chap 6:9 "… perfect,… pure,… blessed…"
Chapter 6:11 identifies her as a Shulammite. The meaning of the name is “From the verb שלם (shalem), to be or make whole or complete” – getting out of bed with her hand dripping with 'myrrh' – she was masturbating herself.
It means sexual purity includes sexual fantasies and masturbation. Good on your mother for teaching you soundly.