Why Are We Still Weird About Masturbation in Marriage?

Being open about it is so much better

None of my friends were okay with their boyfriends watching porn or even masturbating.

They thought it was completely inappropriate and insulting. There was something rude about wasting all that horny energy instead of saving them until they could get together again.

I thought they were completely nuts.

It was just a little harmless jerking off. And weren’t we all masturbating anyway?

Disagreeing with them made me feel so open-minded and sex positive.

But then I walked in on my boyfriend stroking himself off.

We were in college and living in an apartment off campus, but we kept very different sleep schedules.

Mr. Austin was an early bird. He woke up hours before I did. He’d spend those mornings reading, studying, and working on term papers.

And jerking off, apparently.

One night, I walked out of the bedroom at around four in the morning. On my way to the bathroom, I caught sight of my boyfriend sitting at his computer, stroking himself off.

He tucked away his cock in a panic and minimized the porn video as quickly as he could.

I wish I could say I had a totally cool reaction to this, that I was the right mix of chill and supportive.

But nope. I just turned around, left, and we never mentioned it again.

The whole thing felt really awkward. I was kind of disappointed with myself because I had the same thought my friends used to have: “Why does he even need to do that?”

We didn’t talk about our masturbation habits that day or the next. And we wouldn’t for almost ten years.

Self-Love with a Side of Guilt

I masturbated too, of course. And my husband knew about it.

I mean, he had to. I kept a vibrator that I never used during sex, so it should’ve been obvious.

We never discussed it. I would just use it privately. I’d make up some story about needing to take a nap, and then I’d jill off until I was tired. Or I would take a long shower - with my massaging shower head.

I would’ve been too embarrassed to talk about it. I was comfortable saying that I masturbated, in the abstract. But I was kind of mortified to admit that I masturbated that afternoon.

There was also some guilt.

Our marriage had gone through a few dry spells. There were the two years I spent suffering from vaginismus, which basically took sex off the table.

There were the times my chronic medical conditions made my hormones crash - and my libido along with them.

I could go months without wanting to have sex. I felt bad about it, and the last thing I wanted to do was admit to my husband that I still got myself off.

I also worried about what he would think if he knew I was masturbating instead of fucking him. Would he think I wasn’t attracted to him? Would he think I was falling out of love with him?

I didn’t want to find out. So, I just took care of myself without letting him find out.

Sharing My Orgasm Got Us Talking

Once he was done with grad school, Mr. Austin started working from home. Around the same time, our kids stopped napping.

That didn’t leave me many opportunities to get myself off.

Most of the time, I did it at night. For some reason, being in a PhD program turned Mr. Austin from an early bird to a temporary night owl.

We’d spend our evenings fucking or talking in bed, then we’d give each other a good night kiss, and he’d go off to work for one of his clients.

One night, I had trouble sleeping and I decided to take care of that problem by taking care of myself.

While I was touching myself, I grabbed my phone on a whim and recorded my orgasms.

Being the nice wife that I am, I shared the audio file with Mr. Austin.

Naturally, it started a conversation.

I told him I didn’t do it very often. I also told him I missed doing it.

Being the supportive husband he is, he assured me that he’s not only fine with it, but that he could give me space and privacy when I was in the mood for it.

That’s all it took. That one little conversation made me more comfortable about pleasuring myself and talking about it.

And as it turns out, he had some issues of his own.

Masturbating Luxuriously

I had no idea, but he had the same kind of problem I did. He liked to masturbate, but didn’t have a convenient time or place to do it.

He’s around the kids all day. I’ve got the bed at night. And if he does it on the couch, he risks having one of our kids walk in and catch him.

So, his only recourse was to jerk off in the cramped half bathroom on the main floor.

Not surprisingly, that was less than ideal. Standing in a tiny space, wedged between a sink and a toilet under clinically bright lights isn’t exactly the most romantic setup.

I might have missed masturbating, but he missed enjoying it.

I felt sorry for him. Really. I tried to put myself in his shoes - how would I feel trying to get myself off in that space, with my back against the door and one foot propped up on the sink?

He deserves better than that.

So, I invited him to take care of himself in bed.

I realized that was a bit of a weird proposition, to suggest that he strokes himself off while I’m either trying to sleep or just chilling out and watching TV. But if he didn’t feel awkward about it, I wouldn’t either.

That night, I went to bed early and he politely asked permission to get himself off on his side of the bed.

I predicted I’d have a neutral attitude to him jerking off while I went about my business. As long as he didn’t do it while I was on the phone with my doctor, it should be fine.

But it was way more than fine.

I had every intention of going to sleep as planned. But as I listened to his heavy breathing, I found it surprisingly hot. I turned over so I could watch him. It was dark. I didn’t have my glasses on. But what I could see was quite nice.

Watching him pleasure himself without putting on a show was a real treat. Just getting to be a spectator with no expectations was a lot of fun, too.

Watching him pleasuring himself for its own sake was very arousing.

So, yeah, the results were positive. He got to masturbate in more luxury and I got some entertainment out of it.

Needless to say, I invited him to do it again the next night.

That time, I kept my glasses on.

There’s No Shame in Taking a Little Me Time

I regret making masturbation such a weird thing in my relationship. No matter how open and honest we were with each other, we kept too quiet about self-pleasure.

I much prefer being open about it. Our bodies are our own. We should do as we please with them.

I want to have the freedom to masturbate whenever I want, without having to sneak around. And I want the same for my husband.

My husband and I go for walks most mornings. But Mr. Austin also enjoys going on the occasional walk by himself. Those solo adventures don’t cheapen our walks. I don’t get jealous or weird about the fact that he strolled down the road without me. And he certainly doesn’t have to sneak out of the house quietly, hoping I don’t realize that he’s just popped out for a minute without me.

Why should masturbation be any different?

Masturbation isn’t just a substitute for sex or a lesser alternative. It’s a wholly separate activity, and it should be enjoyed as such.

Sometimes, you just want to enjoy a little me time. Or you want to reconnect with your body. Or just help yourself relax a bit without all the rigmarole involved in rubbing up against another human being.

There’s no need to make it weird. Just because you pledged your love to someone else doesn’t mean you have to stop loving yourself.

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