The first time I masturbated was in fifth grade. I didn't know what I was doing or how to do it. I tried humping a pillow and it just didn't work out. I only tried it because Chloe said she did it and I wanted Chloe to think I was cool. I now know that I could've talked about the anatomy of a whale, and she wouldn't have cared because she just liked my company, regardless of what I was talking about. I always appreciated that.

The second time I tried to masturbate was during my sophomore year. I tried watching porn to get me off. Instead, I got distracted by the videos and forgot that I was supposed to be pleasuring myself. It wasn't necessarily that the videos were turning me on. It just fascinated me how women were able to orgasm from so many different things. That night I watched all types of porn. BDSM, masturbation, passionate sex, rough sex. You name it, I watched it and I remembered wanting to try everything to see what I liked.

The next day I went to school determined to find a guy I could lose my virginity to. But when I got there I realized I can't just walk up to a guy and say, "Please insert your penis into my vagina, sir." Because that's just not how it works. Maybe for some people, but not me.

The third time I tried to masturbate was today. This time I knew what I was doing and I didn't need porn. All I needed was my imagination and my fingers. I imagined that it wasn't my fingers, but Mr. Hudson's. I knew it was "wrong", but I didn't care. I realized that feeling guilty for what I did wasn't going to erase it. So I might as well embrace it and move on.

"Fuck," I whispered.

I inserted a second finger inside of me and closed my eyes. I wanted it to be him. I wanted it to be him so badly. Then there was a knock on the door.

I quickly jumped up and grabbed my clothes prepared to put them on in a rush. "Lydia! I have a get-together at work. Do you want to come?"

I did want to cum, but you interrupted me. "No, I'm good, thanks."

"I'll bring you back some food then. Love you bye."

"Bye love you." My mom killed the mood. I put my clothes back on. It was the first time I was actually gonna make myself orgasm.

I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. What is wrong with me? No! I can't think that way. Just because I did something that would be considered taboo doesn't mean that I'm a bad person. It just means that I did a bad thing... That I don't regret. I smiled to myself.

I never really got the whole deal with sex before actually having it. Chloe always complained about how the guys that she hooked up with weren't experienced and didn't know what they were doing. Hearing her stories made me feel no rush to have sex. She said she's only gotten an orgasm twice and it was from the same guy. But he was a foreign exchange student and he ended up moving back to his country. She was devastated.

I knew that I had what would be considered a goal body, long curly hair, and pretty features. I was what people would call beautiful. I wasn't an insecure person, I knew people would love to have what I had, but that doesn't mean that I'm gonna put my body on show for anyone who wants it. That was until Mr. Hudson. I didn't care about the person who was doing it to me, I cared about how he was doing it to me. I finally saw the beauty of sex in real life and not just on a screen.

I knew that most porn was fake. Not all of those guys could possibly make every girl they penetrated scream their name and have an intense orgasm. But, when I watched amateur porn, that was a different story. It wasn't all beautiful facial expressions, perfect hair, and quiet moans, or screeching moans either. It was real. That fascinated me the most. That was my favorite to watch. I wanted that. I had that. I didn't think I was entirely ready to let it go when it had just begun.

The question was, how was I supposed to get it back?