It's one of the most common questions asked of me: What do you think of when you're masturbating?
Generally, the answer is "Nothing."
I don't fantasize about a particular person or persons, boyfriend or celebrity. Mostly I focus on myself. It may seem narcissistic, but I prefer to think of it as practical: The more I can relax and hone in on my orgasm, the better/stronger/more raucous it will be. That's why today's wank session was so unusual.
For some reason, which may never become clear to me, in the middle of my bed, silver bullet on my clit and Orchid G on my G-spot, this thought became lodged in my brain:
I wonder if Ma and Pa Ingalls ever decided to slick things up a bit and bring the crock of lard into the bedroom.
I am not proud of this revelation, but at least now you're thinking about Charles pumping his rod into Caroline's ass under that huge nightgown, too.
I love you!