I was searching the iMac for a file I wanted to read when I spotted a video I made about six months ago. As I opened it I realized that I had completely forgotten it. I had recorded the video intending to upload it to an amateur porn site, but I never did. I hit the play button, and there I was in all my naked splendor.

My middle-aged body was lying in bed. Cut to a close-up: two hands; an anal vibrator in one and a tube of Astroglide in the other. Followed by a generous glob of gel being spread slowly on the vibe until its surface glistened like an icicle. I as I watched I recalled that the gel was very cold when I touched it to my rosetta.

A full body shot followed. Me on my left side. The room was shadowy with late afternoon light from the windows, but the picture was sharp. I had the vibrator in my right hand aimed at my ass. The camera was on a tripod at the foot of the bed, a perfect shot of my southern exposure, and I could see my face above my hip. I was squinting into the camera.

I touched the cold tip of the vibe to my ass. I gasped and squirmed. Made a grizzly face. That was when I remembered that the camera mike had recorded sound.

I tingled watching my image, my hand working the vibe in and out. I tingled even more when I heard the noise I was making coming out of the computer speaker. Mini-me had turned his face into the pillow and moaned, a low rasping moan and a gasping breath, another moan, another gasp.

A tight shot came next. I had to get up and adjust the camera so I could get the close-up of my ass, so my position was different. I could hear the rapid buzzing of the vibrator rise and fall as it slipped in and out. My hole was shiny wet.

I was mildly shocked listening to my voice, the things I was saying. It was louder now, and between moans and gasps I said things like, "Omygod, yes!" And, "Fuuuck that's good." I couldn't remember doing that. It was real, though, I hadn't been faking. Then I said, "I need something bigger."

No lube shots this time. The video view was me, on my back, legs spread, knees bent, a thick rubber cock buried in my ass. I was thrusting my hips, lifting my ass up and down, fucking the dildo like it was real. I was speaking to the camera like a web ho teasing for tips.

"Oh, it feels so good. Fuck my ass, fuck it!"

I told you, spoken just like a live video slut.

Lube made foamy by the cock plunging back and forth, in and out of my hole, ran down my crack and dissolved into the dark wet spot on the sheet. My whole body would clench as spasms of anal orgasms rocked me. The vocal teasing increased.

"Oh, I need your cock in my ass!" I said in a husky voice. "I need your cock right here right now!" It was kind of embarrassing to hear. Exciting too. Then it grew wanton.

"I need two or three of you. We'll have a gangbang. Yes! One cock to stroke, one to suck, and, ooohh! A big one pumping my ass!"

I hit pause. I sat looking at the frozen image, myself, mouth open, eyes closed, the rubber cock buried in me all the way to those funny fake balls, and wondered if I wasn't a little bit nutty.

I really needed a man in my life. In my bed. Or a gal with a strap on. Mmmm.

I guess that was when I realized--had to admit, actually, like an addict confessing in a support group--that I am addicted to this lonely lovely ritual: fucking myself with rubber toys until the intense waves of sexual pleasure carry me off to the point of desperately demanding release, release that only dropping over the edge can give.

I hit the play button and watched the finale--the money shot. Hips and ass rolling and twisting, furtively fucking the rubber cock, squeezing and stroking my real cock, my face and body flushed and scrunched inward in rigid tightness, impossibly long strings of gleamy-white cum bursting from my cock like fireworks. I could almost feel again the arc of that blissful orgasm that seemed to last for more than a minute until I slowly sagged to the sheets in quieting spasms, totally spent, a diagram of cum drawn on my belly and chest.

No shades of grey. Total blackness behind eyes pressed shut as white-hot rising waves of ecstasy scorched every cell of my body.

After the video ended, I thought about the selfish aspect of the act. Doing it alone, I was free to focus on my own needs, my own ecstatic pleasure, without concern for the needs of a partner. Self-interest is the core of masturbation. It's not only about seeking release on my own. It's an act awash in self-interest, self-love, self-soothing pleasure in private sessions of indulgence so very different from sex with others.

I love it.