My Masturbation Obsession Ch. 01

Chapter 1 -- The drive home

All of these stories in this series are true and occurred almost exactly as I remembered them. However, times, places, and names have been changed, as well as some details that I have had to use as filler to make the story flow properly. I hope you enjoy.

Just a bit of background. My wife Gina and I got together one night after having a mutual friend and we talked late a few nights, eventually leading to some heavy petting and dating. We were both very sexual, and had a strong attraction as well as sex drive. We were insatiable for the first 3 years together, sex every night, sometimes twice, day sex, road sex, exploring oral, anal, masturbating each other, minor roleplay, etc. We rarely held back, and if we wanted something we would just say it. Luckily, our tastes were right in line, so there wasn't anything out of line or where we would disgust the other for asking or suggesting.

Gina is a few years older than me, and is relatively tall 5'9", and isn't a lithe girl, but more solidly built -- not like a linebacker, but more of a 'Diana the Huntress' sort of look. She can haul lumber and put together a wooden patio deck, but still look stunning in a sundress. She has a large chest and thighs, but carries everything in proportion. I'm about 6'1", roughly 185-200 depending on my beer intake that month, and I'm not quite an athletic look, but also not the flabby dad bod either. Sort of in between, in shape but not toned to perfection. I have an average sized cock 6" or so, and a little larger than average girth.

I had always been a bit of a prolific masturbator, but since we had been so active sexually, there wasn't much time. And then we moved. My company was going under, about to be sold, and my wife was working a couple part time jobs, hoping for a fulltime position to open up at her day job. Before I was laid off or we folded, I found a job in a state a few hundred miles away, in a very rural community. We talked it over, and pulled a 'Risky Business' "Sometimes you just got to say What the Fuck, Make your move", and we did. Packed up, bought a place, started living the rural life.

My office was about 35 miles from our house, so I had a 45 minutes drive through farm roads to and from work each day. This gave me a lot of thought-wandering, boring time driving straight empty roads. One of the jobs requirements was to travel a bit between locations, and so I would be gone for 2-3 days at a time once a month, and then twice a year, I had to make a 2 week trip doing inspections. These were driving trips, so I had a lot of time, and traveling a couple hundred miles after working all day made the trips a bit boring and to stay awake in places where you had the choice of bluegrass or farm reports on the radio, you needed to stay awake, which I did by fantasizing and a bit of rubbing myself. Nothing like a raging boner to keep you awake!

After a four hour drive, which doubled as an edging session, I would be desperate to get into the hotel room to drop my pants fully and finally be able to finish myself off and go immediately to sleep to be ready to do it all over again tomorrow, work -- drive -- edge -- explode -- sleep. I began to look forward to these long trips, and began to associate driving with fantasizing and masturbation. This led to doing this on the short 2-3 day trips as well, which led to masturbating and fantasizing during the 45 minute drive home every day when I was in the office. This led to a couple of problems -- I'd come home horny, and Gina would have dinner ready or cooking it, so I'd be left hanging there, wanting to finish. On top of that, I'm 45 minutes into "foreplay" whereas she isn't even considering it yet, so if we did get to sex, I was way ahead and finished way too early. If we didn't get to it, -Ate too much, not in mood, time of month, need to get up early tomorrow - whatever the reason, I was still aching to release.

I began to check the birth control pill container for the little green placebos so I knew when she was out of commission. I would eat a late lunch and call her and tell her to eat without me/don't make me dinner. On those days, I would get home and we would have sex right away, getting the timing together so we both had a good time. This led to some experimenting, because I was fantasizing about different things, and was horned up enough to try them, and our sex life expanded quite a bit, which was a good thing all around. On the placebo days or days where I knew she was cooking, I would call her and tell her that I was leaving -- and she knew it was 45 minutes away, without much variation due to complete lack of traffic. I didn't want to try to cum while driving, so I needed a way to carve out an extra 15 minutes of time. I started to ask her if she needed anything from the store, and if she said yes, I would buy it at lunch, and then tell her I would hit store on way home. 15 minutes issue resolved!

This was pre-cell phone, so no data plans, so I would hard print some photos or stories, or have a magazine or two in the car for material, and would begin driving home. It took about 15 minutes of driving to get out of the town and onto the first farm road, and as I turned onto that road, I would be releasing my cock from my pants and beginning to stroke myself to full glory, thinking about the new fun thing we did last night, or the week before, or imagining a new situation or scenario or activity for us to try, and different ways I could attempt to make it happen. After about 15 minutes of this, I would put my car on cruise and slide my jeans south of my knees to really get a good pump going, and allow my sack to get some freedom and action and movement, too, rather than being constrained between my thighs. This would give me a good 10 minutes of action to get to the point where I could find the dirt lanes where I could pull over and finish myself without driving into a ditch or worse. There was little to no traffic, but I wanted to be sure to be alone and not have to keep a constant watch on the road either way for other cars. I found a few dirt lanes with not a single farmhouse, one next to a grazing field with no cows, and another between two corn fields. I would pull about halfway down, and pull over to the side. Since it was a mile in either direction, I would have plenty of time to see the dust clouds of approaching vehicles and make sure I was presentable in case they stopped and asked if I needed any help.

Depending on how horny I was, or what I felt like, or the weather, I would usually remove my jeans completely, but leave my shirt on. I really like being fully naked, some on occasion, if I was really into it, I would get fully naked. I would get out of the car, and have a good story printed to read in my left hand, and my cock in my right hand keeping myself erect. I would lean against the door, or lay on the hood and read the story while I stroked myself. I would have found a couple photos online that would coincide with the action in the story, and would occasionally get a visual stimulation to go with the mental fantasization of the story. There is something freeing about standing in the empty space of the world, in the great outdoors, naked like the day you were born, simply enjoying the feelings of self-pleasure without all the hustle bustle or worries of modern life and crowds of people. You can really let go, and just be in that moment. I would work myself up to the point where I just knew I wasn't going to be able to stop, checked both directions for dust clouds, and then closed my eyes and used the fantasy in my mind to push me past that point. I would push out my hips and begin taking my hand to full strokes of my shaft, going all the way up, and then all the way to the base, so that the pounding of my hand against my body simulated being fully inside someone, and giving my balls just a little extra shake to make them give up their sweet syrup.

I could feel the buildup with each long stroke, each one just a bit faster and a my fist would hit just a bit more forceful against my body as I felt the sensation of the orgasm rushing and the pressure arising from deep within until the pre-cum started spraying. Finally, the dam burst, I thrust my hips out as far as I could and I shot a load of semen out into the air, watching it sail a few feet in front of me, and landing in the dirt, each successive spurt falling just a little closer to me, and I milked every drop out of myself and enjoyed the fresh air, the feeling of freedom to be outside, naked and cumming, and without concerns for society, decorum, or even modesty. Just simple, animal pleasure.

This was the start of my masturbation obsession, and continued for a good year or year and a half, until the day my wife and I were driving home from a relative's about 6 hours away.