Sunday, September 29, 2013

Maxxi's Story



This is a well written Mini Novel of a scenario that is unique and uncommon. I received it completely anonymous. It remains un-edited or compromised of its stark truth, as it begs to the very nature of Out of the Shadows. I encourage you to read it with somewhat of an open mind.
I believe this follows the line of conversation in comments recently.

-e-

Maxxi and Memories of John

I want to tell this story of my first sexual experiences and my first ever love.
I was 9 years old and my mom’s new boyfriend John had just moved in with us, I had never known my real father as he had left us not long after I was born. John was always nice to me and my mom; he would often bring flowers home to my mom and a surprise for me in the form of a chocolate bar or a small toy. He made us very happy and I liked him a lot. John always liked playing with me and he never said he was too busy to spend time with me or have some fun with me.
John used to work during the day and my mom worked from 6:00pm till late cleaning offices. It was great from that time it would just be us two! He would make me my dinner, help me with my homework, and make sure I had a shower and that I had fresh clean clothes for the next day. Then we would watch whatever I wanted on TV, we would eat some desert then he would tuck me into bed.
One night when he was tucking me in he told me he loved me more than anything else in the world and he reached down and kissed me. I just felt so special and like John was the father I never met.
The first time anything happened was when I was 9, almost 10, we were running late to go out somewhere I can’t remember and mom said that John and I were to take a shower together to speed things up a bit. We were in the shower and I was going about my business washing myself and I noticed Johns penis started to grow in size and become erect. He was trying to hide it but I already noticed and I was staring at it, I had never seen a grown mans penis before let alone an erect one. I said “wow! Yours is really big” Then I asked if I could touch it, he was a bit unsure but I grabbed hold of it and inspected it a bit. It was really hard and thick. He told me “that is enough” and took my hand away. I kept showering but still staring at it. Then he said “ah fuck it!” and he grabbed my hand and put it back on his penis and showed me how to move my hand back and forth. I paid attention and did as he said, it was really fun and new for me. He had his eyes closed and was rubbing his hand through my wet hair. I kept on doing it until he told me to stop. (I’m not sure if he came or not but I guess I wasn’t really looking for anything coming out.)

From then on we were having a full on sexual relationship. Mom would leave for work and we would go about our normal routine but when it came to bed time would get into bed together and he would take off all my clothes and lick me all over it tickled so much I would be laughing and giggling the whole time. He would give me oral sex then he showed me how to do it on him, or sometimes I would just use my hand and jack him up and down like in the shower the first time. I didn’t mind at all I actually quite liked it; he would always have a hand on me just stroking me gently. I never felt pressured at all and he never made me do anything I didn’t want to do. It was him who encouraged me to let him perform anal sex on me but I would set the pace and if I said stop he would immediately, I was in control of what he would do to me. John showed me just how to pleasure him and he would pleasure me too although I was too young to orgasm and shoot a load, but that made me always full of energy and ready to go wanting to play more. We would spend hours in bed not always doing sexual stuff but just rolling around holding each other and just joking around. He would run his hands all over my body and just give me lots of praise about how beautiful I was and how much he loved me and how special I was to him. I was in heaven and John was my most favorite person in the whole world, I loved him so much. Sometimes I would have my friends over but John wouldn’t even look twice at them, I was the only one for him and he would tell me every night in bed during our play.
We were so in love and I didn’t want it to end but I was 11 and a half when it all fell apart. We must have both fallen asleep in my bed after a night of play only for my mom to return home from work to find us both naked in my bed. I had never seen my mom freak out so bad before! She was shaking and screaming out really loud. She grabbed me up and put me in the car and took me to Grandma’s. I had to stay there for like 3 whole boring days until she came back to take me home. When I got home John and all his things were gone. Mom kept asking me what happened and I would always just reply “nothing”.
I was so upset that John was gone, my mom kept thinking it was because of what he did to me but the truth was I was all quiet because I missed him so much. We ended up moving house and changing our phone number, I used to cry in my bed at night at the fact that I would never see him again. And I never did…
I really missed John for a long time, I so wished he could have been there when I blew my very first load when I was 13! But I look back now and I cherish the times we had together. Most people would call John a predator or a pedophile but not me, I loved him and I know he loved me too. My mother and I don’t ever talk about John, it’s like it is in the past and forgotten but I can tell in her eyes it is not. Was it because of our relationship back then that I turned out gay today? I’m 19 now, maybe so? But people should know that not all adult / child relationships are bad. I had an experience that I don’t think I will ever have again at the hands of a person who I know truly loved, cared and adored me.
I don’t regret one thing…

Maxxi

Friday, September 27, 2013

A little piece of Philosophy

Things seem to be slow here, so I'll just say something that's been on my mind for a few days.
 
In a comment on this site, a guy recalled his elementary school years and said that he was on the student council, safety patrol and more - I don't remember what else, but all of it good. Yeah, it's unfashionable to be thought of as a nice dude these days, but the kid was clearly a fine specimen of humanity even when he was a young boy. A positive contributor to society. Now, think with me for a minute. That boy was almost certainly gay, or he would not be visiting this site, posting a comment and reading the "library" here. With me so far?
 
Meanwhile, there were other boys in his world, bullies in Gym class who were disgustingly mean to the extent of what I would consider serious abuse (ganging up and forcing a bar of soap into a younger boy's anus). Other than that we know nothing about those bullies - nothing about their sexual orientation. But I think you'll agree with me that the odds are close to 100% that the bullies were straight.
 
So do the comparison. Who was the troublemaker? Gay or straight? Who best upheld the finer qualities of humanity? Gay or straight?
 
It kind of demolishes the lie that gays are the world's worst social evil, doesn't it?
 
Do something nice for somebody, guys. A wise man said that you would heap coals of fire on their heads by repaying evil with good.
TC
 
Yes reader it is partly my fault for the site being slow, I've been on another research project and have not been posting as regular. Things are winding down on the other avenue and I will focus more attention here now. 
On this comment, I am very happy to print it and strongly encourage people to comment. I have my own thoughts, but I'd like others to weigh in first. To encourage the comaraderie and so on I am elevating to immediate posts without approval for comments. Just don't anyone be the sandbox bully please.
-e-

Sunday, September 22, 2013

7th Grade Showers



Intro-
 This one is submitted by one of our most prolific writers. His creative mind brings us to the exact responses we all felt at that certain exploring age.
-e-

I attended Catholic grade school, with my parents switching me to public junior high beginning in seventh grade. The reason for this was the many more programs and opportunities that public junior high offered me versus what were available in Catholic school. One of those programs was physical education, or “gym” as it was called. This all took place in the late 1960s.

Gym was scheduled three days a week, and on the very first day coach told us his expectations. We were required to wear a white T-shirt, uniform school gym shorts, white socks, good sneakers, and a jock. We were also told that we would be required to shower after each class, and he gave us slips to take home telling our parents that a towel service was available for a small fee. My mom liked the fact that I could get a clean dry towel each day versus keeping a damp smelly one in my gym locker, so she signed me up.

Both the beginning and the end of the first gym class were extremely embarrassing for me, as it probably was for all the boys. I had never worn a jock before, and I don’t think most of the other boys had either. Plus, putting on a jock meant that you had to get completely naked. I had never been naked around boys I didn’t know before. Then, after gym class came the required showers. Again, it was extremely embarrassing at first, stripping naked and going to the showers with all these other boys. But since we all had to get naked and shower, I made the best of it and pretended it didn’t bother me. But after two or three classes, I found myself secretly looking forward to shower time because it gave me a chance to see all the other boys naked.

The shower room was designed with one round pole in the middle, off of which sprayed eight shower-heads in a circle. So eight boys would shower at once, and we would all be positioned facing one another, so it was easy to see the cocks on all the other boys. At the beginning of seventh grade, I had not yet ever masturbated, nor had I ever had an orgasm or ever ejaculated. But I found myself going home after school, lying on my bed, putting my hand in my pants and fondling myself while thinking about the naked images and beautiful cocks on some of the boys in my gym class. I did not realize this was my evolving sexual arousal, but it certainly was. I began to really look forward to the days when I had gym class because of the showers. I began to pick out my favorite boys I wanted to shower near, some I just loved to see naked all over, and others I just loved the looks of their developing young cocks. (Mine at the time had some hair growing around it, but from a distance it didn’t look like I had any. Some of the boys already had dark little bushes, and I found those most exciting to look at and dream about.)

It was in February of seventh grade that while showering at home I was thinking about the cock one boy in particular from my gym class. Those thoughts caused me to get an erection. And then I started washing it with my soapy hand and discovered that it felt really nice. So I kept stroking it with my soapy hand. Then, something very strange started to happen that had never happened before. There in the shower, I experienced my first orgasm and a little bit of something strange also squirted out of it.
Once I discovered how to masturbate, those gym showers became even more exciting for me. I learned how to time myself so that I arrived in the shower room too late to be among the first group of eight boys. So I had no choice but to stand there, naked and outside the circle until there was an opening so I could shower. I also tried to time it so I would actually be showering at the same time as some boys whose naked bodies turned me on the most. I had also learned that what I was doing at home was called whacking off or jerking off, and I became consumed with curiosity if some of the cutest boys in my gym class were also whacking off their young cocks.

I began selectively trying to befriend boys who turned me on the most in the showers. Friendships gave the opportunity for sleepovers, and sleepovers made the opportunity to possibly do things together, and I’m sure the readers will know exactly what I mean by that.
S.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

From Early R*W - First Time



 There's something magical about being in the woods that beckons boys to be free-form with nature. THese strange feelings overcame me a few times in the woods, whether alone of with a buddy... Oh, and I quiver in restless enticement, for comments or follow up stories.

-e-


 First Time


I was about 11yrs old, my friend David was 13. We had been friends for some time, just hanging out doing the things boys do in the late 70's.
Then one summer day we were playing in the woods, David asked me if I had ever had a ball job? Not knowing what he was talking about at the time, I told him no. He asked if he could show me what he meant.
I said okay, and then he told me I had to take off my pants, then lay down in the grass. I did as he told me. I watched as he slowly went down on my small cock, and then started to lick my hairless balls. He did this for quite some time.
It was the best thing I had ever felt in my life at that time. After he had me all hard and precumed, he asked if I would do him.
I gladly agreed, and when he took off his pants.... I was in SHOCK that a boys dick could be so big! Heck mine wasn't but a 3 incher..... his had to be at least 6 inches when hard!
So I went down on my friend doing the same thing to him, that he had just done to me. I licked his balls (a bit hairy, but not bad). Then I sucked his head and went down as far as could on him without gagging. Which did happen, a few times before I learned to slow down and not take more then one kid can swallow. I sucked him off until I felt the warm cum in my mouth. It was a strange taste at the time, but not something I wanted to spit out.
Time went on, David and I would spend our time in the woods doing the things boys do in the summer.

Author Anonymous

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

The Truth about Corey



Note to readers: Eric knows who I am, since we have discussed this incident online with each other.  I appreciate his input and critique.  If he decides to post this little piece of autobiography, I am asking him to let me remain anonymous.

My first job right out of college was something I would never have imagined myself doing. I took it because jobs were scarce and I was desperate: I was the activities director at a retirement complex where hundreds of old people lived. This incident is not about old folks, however, so please don't bail yet.

There were two good things about the job.  The first good thing was the hours. I went to work at 6:00 AM when the old-timers were just hitting the breakfast line, and as a result I was off every afternoon around 3:00. That gave me time to pursue an activity that filled a deep private need, shooting my load along with some high school boys that liked to do the same thing.  I knew how to find such boys because I had very recently been one of them myself, and knew their habits.

I was someone or something that certain guys seemed to "need".  A slightly older person who had his own independence yet took an interest in them.  At the same time, I was not old enough to be a troll or a symbol of authority, just a bigger and more muscular version of themselves.  I never pushed myself on anybody.  On the contrary, they pushed themselves on me.  It was a fulfilling stage in my life.

A handful of these horny boys became "anonymous friends" if there is such a thing.  I would watch for certain guys and they would watch for me.  One guy that I still remember very fondly was younger and smaller than the others.  He generally wore slacks and a white shirt instead of the typical dude's uniform of old jeans.  He always wanted me to jack him off, and while I tenderly stroked his stiff dick and endeavored to give him maximum pleasure, he held my erection in his hands, not jacking me, just holding onto my hardness.  And he never failed to whisper "Thank you" after he ejaculated.

All of this took place on the other side of town from my apartment and my job.  I kept my two lives locked in separate compartments.

The second good thing about my job was that I made friends with one of the administrators of the retirement facility, a woman who in many ways became a mother figure for me.  We got to be such good friends that I regularly hung out at their house.  I was there for meals, for TV in the evening, welcome at any time.  They sort of adopted me.  Her husband and I jogged together, although it was more walking than running when he was along.  And to cap off the whole picture, they had a boy who was about 10 years old when I first became part of the family.  Corey (an only child) adored me and wanted to go everywhere and do everything that I did.

Corey and I became inseparable.  He was the little brother I never had, and I was the big brother he loved to hang out with.  If I was doing something as simple as driving to the gas station, he wanted me to swing by his house and take him along.  It sounds corny, but we loved each other.  As we got into springtime, he and his parents talked me into coaching the little dude's YMCA baseball team.

This put me in a complex situation.  I was surrounded by boys, which was very gratifying.  I knew myself well enough to know that I would never make a sexual advance on a boy in my care, and at any rate those particular boys were much too young.  Even if they had been older and horny and looking for something, they would still certainly be off-limits to a coach and family friend.  At the same time, they were tremendously attractive and provocative.  I was charmed by the boys in every way, but I was totally ethical about the whole thing.

A few of the team had edged into puberty, I believe, but my little sidekick Corey and most of his beautiful friends were simply outstanding examples of those very wonderful creations, pre-pubertal boys. Not sex objects, yet breathtaking in their young and innocent masculinity.  I held myself to the highest standards with this group, never alone with any of them, never putting one toe out of line, but totally overwhelmed by them.  To keep my balls drained I had my after-school tricks with the high school guys.  I also wanked myself into submission in private before every practice and game with "my" boys.

 In short, I was constantly aroused by boys and surrounded by them while three fulfilling years passed.

Corey, of course, grew from a 10-year-old through two or three birthdays and into that wonderful "almost there" stage where I knew he was on the verge of puberty if not already over the hump.  I became deeply and erotically curious about things that were none of my business, such as whether he was having wet dreams, whether he was enjoying his erections, whether he had discovered masturbation, whether he had a special friend.  I occasionally spent the night at their house and saw Corey in his underwear or pajamas, but never totally bare.  I knew I would never approach him, and yet I was so emotionally invested in him that I longed to be part of what was happening to him sexually.

We had a lot of opportunities; we saw movies together, worked on his pitching and batting, went to pro games, bowled -- but not one thing happened.  He was completely off-limits.

Good things have a sad way of coming to an end.  In a career move that they were absolutely excited about, Vanessa and Paul, Corey's parents, suddenly announced that they were moving 1200 miles away.  The two of them together were going to manage a large retirement center in Georgia at a good increase in income.  They were delighted.  I was crushed.  I was losing the people who were closer to me than my own family.

 Corey and I planned one last adventure, putting off our inevitable parting.  His parents left for Georgia in Vanessa's Suburban as soon as the moving van cleaned out their house.  Corey stayed at my place for a couple of nights (no, nothing happened), and then the two of us hit the road in Paul's Honda, looking forward to a great three or four-day road trip.  We would take our time, see everything we could, and have a lot of fun together before I had to deliver both the car and the boy to his folks in Georgia.

Throughout the first day on the road, riding side by side in the Honda, I longed for Corey to drop a hint that he was aware of his sexual nature.  Maybe a question, maybe a joke, maybe rubbing a boner in his pants.  I was constantly attuned to what might happen, but nothing did.  That night at the motel he observed complete modesty, changing clothes in the bathroom with the door closed, just like he'd done at my apartment  We lay awake watching a movie and talking way up into the night, and he fell asleep without the slightest sign that he even knew he had a penis.

I was so conflicted that I didn't know which way was up.  I wanted in some way to be involved with Corey's intimate life, perhaps only to talk about sex with him.  At the same time, I saw myself as his protector and champion.  I would have killed anybody who touched "my" boy.  I wrung my dick out in the shower, but that didn't solve my issues.

The second day was just like the first -- great fun together as we followed back-roads on pure impulse and stopped to see everything that looked interesting -- and yet the day was terribly frustrating for me because of the stimulation of our closeness.

That night the whole thing hit a new and unexpected level.  Some time after we said good-night and turned off the lights, my sweet and virtuous little 13-year-old Corey got busy masturbating under his covers.  There was not the slightest doubt.  I was aware of every stroke, every pause, every nuance of speed and breath.  I watched the mound over his dick quiver, watched it rise and fall as he adjusted its height to the action taking place beneath it.  I forced myself to accept his wank as a private moment that he had no thought of sharing, and yet I was engulfed in need and urgency.  I had to fight the impulse to throw off my covers and reveal my own taut erection. 

I knew exactly when he ejaculated, and I repressed the stupid urge to say something like "Well done, little brother!"

 Finally we were into the last day of driving.  I was horny and obsessed beyond belief despite having shot my load before leaving the motel that morning.  Somewhere in Tennessee we pulled off the highway at a primitive rest stop with no facilities.  The two of us walked off into the trees to piss, and Corey stood next to me draining his dick -- me already horny as hell and now, with him pissing right next to me, doing my best to get a look at his little organ without making a scene. 

That's when I snapped.

What I said was way out of line, but it was probably one of the mildest sexual remarks that anybody has ever thought of.  I said to Corey, in my best mature big brother voice,

"I saw you working on your little buddy in bed.  I do it too."

 I don't know what I expected -- maybe a laugh, maybe a mutual wank out there in the woods.

Time froze….  Corey said nothing.  Then he looked up at me with the weirdest look I have ever seen, a combination of fear and disbelief and possibly reproach.  When we got back into the car, neither one of us spoke for the longest time.  Finally we started talking again, but it wasn't the same.  There was a wall between us, a wall that I'd built by trying to stir something up that I shouldn't have.

And while I was mentally kicking myself for being weak, a thousand awful thoughts grabbed me as I drove.  The first thing Corey would do when we reconnected with his parents would be to tell them that I'd made a sexual overture.  They would be outraged, disappointed, hurt.  They would call the cops.  I'd go to jail.  I'd never see Corey again, and might see his parents only in a courtroom.  Or if it wasn't the cops, Vanessa and Paul would cancel my airline ticket home.  I'd be stuck, maybe lucky enough to hitchhike, maybe unlucky enough to get picked up by a psychopath.

And, equally frightening, with one brief call Vanessa would get me fired.  They'd pay attention to her; she had run the whole place.  There'd be no job for me if and when I made it back.  No income, no chance of borrowing from my dysfunctional real family.  I'd turn into a homeless bum.

When we did hook up with his family, Corey simply disappeared.  It's been nearly 20 years and I never saw him again, not even a good-bye.  As far as I could tell he didn't make any complaint to his parents, but he vanished.  I flew home as scheduled, and resumed my job.

When I went cruising the next afternoon, I discovered that I'd ruined myself.  Every time I tricked with a high school boy I saw Corey giving me that awful look.  The boys were glad to see me, but I had permanently messed my head up.  Sometimes I couldn't maintain an erection because of Corey's face glowering in my mind.  When I lay in bed at night he was staring at me.

I quit my job, got financial aid from the university, and started work on my Master's.  By the time I earned the MA and immersed myself in pushing on for still another degree, I was mature enough to know I had to find people my own age instead of the horny boys I identified with.  It was a decision that just about killed me emotionally.

I'm very much a loner and an introvert, and although I know those attributes are genetically determined, I attribute my personality partly to the awful effect I had on Corey when I tried to stir something up with him.  Among the things that help me deal with myself are the stories on Out of the Shadows and a similar site.

Vanessa sends Christmas cards and an occasional email.  I presume Corey never told them anything, because no hint of a problem has ever shown up from her.  Vanessa kept me up to date on the boy graduating from high school and then college, getting married, and having kids.  Every time she writes, I hate myself all over again.

From Corey himself, my wonderful "little brother," I have never heard the slightest peep.

I admire boys in every imaginable way, but I'll never trust myself to go near one again.
Author’s name withheld by request

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Repost from Early R*W



Subject: Family Outings in the 60's
Author's Intro -
Back in the late 1960's we had a week long extended family camping trip.  Our three families had six boys between them between the ages of 7 and 12.  I was the youngest.


It was a hot summer.  During the day it was hot, and at night it stayed hot. We set camp on Saturday, us kids in one tent and our parents in another, the next site over.  They wanted to stay up late and party.  My oldest cousin Ricky taught us to play strip poker.  He started with "21", with rules about when you lose or take clothes. We got naked, and some of us got "woodies", but being naked pretty much ended the game.
Ricky wanted to add some rules, but we were done. Sunday afternoon, it was hot so everyone went swimming in the river, usually in their undies, but preteens when camping could get away with skinny dipping.  As the crowd thinned, and our families were not around, more and more of us enjoyed the luxury of being completely bare.

Monday, we were alone at the campground, so as soon as the adults were away the clothes came off.  We lived on the edge, half afraid we'd get caught.  When we were discovered, it was anticlimactic - our parents took pictures and talked, then picked up our clothes and took them back to the tents.

By Monday noon, our normal garb was bug spray and canvas sneakers.  In the 1960's, alone at a campground, kids could get away with nudity that they can't anymore.

It was the middle of the afternoon, we had paused in our swimming, and Ricky suggested we try something new that he promised would fell really cool.  he'd let us do it to him first so we'd know he wasn't tricking us.

So he laid down on his back and told us to start rubbing his nipples and his privates.  He got hard and you could tell he was really enjoying it.  Then he stopped us and asked who wanted to go next.

After seeing how much he liked it, I went in the middle next.  He cautioned it would feel weird at first, but then it would feel good.  As they started to touch me all over, it was like an electric shock running through my body.  After a few minutes, when it was starting to feel really good, we switched to the next cousin.

We went around the circle like this several times, then the last time around I suddenly thought I as dying, then I decided that if this was dying I was ready for it, then I don't remember much else for a few minutes except complete physical ecstasy.

I remember that Bruce was next in line, and I was touching Bruce's "woodie" when suddenly he froze up and started shaking all over.  I thought he was getting sick, but Ricky reassured me that it was just like when it felt so good to me. After we had all been "finished up", we swam for a bit more before supper.
The rest of the week ... let's just say it was an adventure. 

And Ricky did get to add his "new rules" to strip poker.

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Pissing on an Ant Hill



At one of the bases where my dad was stationed, our house was not far from a creek. There was a nice fenced park along a section of the creek, but past the fences was a lot of land in its natural state both upstream and downstream, meaning trees, brush and undergrowth. I was about ten at the time and considered it my duty to explore those woods. I was not alone; all the boys of a certain age played in the "off limits" area as much as in the park.

Among the things I discovered as an explorer was a large ant hill on the rocky bank of the creek. It was populated by enormous red ants who constantly ran back and forth from the big central hole. Not wanting to get stung, I gave the ant bed a wide berth at first. But as I got more adventurous I started waging war on the ants, jabbing sticks into their entrance, pouring sand over them, and pounding the hill with rocks. And then one day I had a dramatic idea.

Checking first to make sure nobody else was around, I pulled out my little peter and emptied my bladder right onto the ant hill. The ants swarmed around in a frenzy, which was somehow very satisfying to me. However, my piss was quickly absorbed by the dry ground and soon the ants settled back into their normal routine. I was so pleased with the forbidden pleasure of urinating in the open and stirring up the ants, that I became a regular pisser at the ant hill, aiming my dick like a firehose and aggravating the busy insects as much as possible. Pissing on the ants and trying to fill up their entrance tunnel with my pee became one of my major hobbies.

It seemed to me that sometimes I could deliver my piss with a lot of force, but other times I was not full enough and it just dribbled out. So whenever I planned to lay siege to the ants I would drink something liquid in advance, and maybe take a Coke along to refill the ammo in my pee tank. Sometimes my bladder got so full that I could hardly keep from wetting myself as I hurried through the park and into the woods to attack the ants. If I worked it right, I could produce two or three  or even four urinations in the course of less than an hour, retreating into the brush between assaults while waiting for my bladder to recharge.

The reason for explaining this is that the red ant war is my first memory of getting a stiffie. On a certain day I clearly remember hiding from the ants after dousing their hill with every drop of piss I could produce. I was not yet ready to pee on them again, yet I realized I was thinking about my penis. I discovered that I was very much aware of my penis being there, AND aware that it felt different somehow, AND aware that it required immediate examination.

A poll on this site inquired about the angle of a person's erection during early puberty. I was not yet at puberty, but what I had was certainly an erection. I could not get my dick comfortable by prodding it back and forth inside my pants. In my mind's eye I can see the leaves and brush all around me as I opened my fly not to piss but to pull my little boner out and take a look at it. It was indeed different. It pointed straight out and looked a lot longer than usual. Because I am circumcised, the erection made the head of my penis appear very pronounced. I wiggled it around, wondering why it had become so different and whether it had a problem.

While this was taking place my bladder refilled and it was time to inundate the ants again. I thought it would be a lot of trouble to zip my protruding dick back into my pants, so walked through the brush to the ant bed with one hand hiding the inflexible little boner sticking straight out of my fly.

And then I discovered a glitch. In all my previous pee attacks I had easily pointed my penis wherever I wanted the piss to fall. Now my hard penis resisted my attempts to aim my pee. After waiting for the flow to begin (which had never been necessary in the past) the stream of piss sailed completely over the ant bed and hit the ground several feet past it. Only with difficulty could I bend my dick toward the ground, and even then I had to back up two or three steps to make the remaining splashes fall on the ants. By the time I got home and thought about my penis again, it had gone back to normal.

Perhaps the psychological excitement of using my penis as a tool or weapon gave me that erection. Or maybe it was simply what somebody has called a "pee-hard." At any rate, at age ten I was profoundly aware for the first time that my penis could get stiff and stick very tensly straight out ahead of me - even though the phenomenon would not translate into sexuality for years.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Re-Post from R*W - First Ejaculation



R*W Experience: First Ejaculation


I was an only-child and had virtually no information about what was going on with my body. 
I had recently turned 13, and I remember the older boys in Scouts joking and laughing a lot 
about "Jerking it off", and making these strange hand-motions near their crotch. It made no sense
at all to me. To "Jerk something off" would mean to pull sharply on it in a jerking motion until it
came off! That made no sense at all, so I had no idea what this meant.

Then one day I was taking a bath and I began washing my Penis just with soap on my hand. No washcloth,
just my hand. Wow that felt nice! I started getting an erection. I didn't think much more about it,
but by the time I finished my bath and had myself all dried off, I still had that same erection. So I decided
to go over to the sink, again coat my hand with some soap, and start rubbing it some more.

I discovered if I rubbed it up and down my shaft a few times, my Penis would sort of become 'paralyzed' for a second or so, and then it would relax. It would get super-stiff by itself in a way I could not control, just by me rubbing it a little bit. Whenever I rubbed it this way, it happened, and it felt very nice, so I kept doing it over and over. Rub it on my shaft right behind the Penis-head -> let go -> it would get super-hard for a second,
and then it would relax. Then I'd do it again. After a while, it seemed to stay paralyzed a little longer, and it
 felt really great! Then something happened that scared me half to death. I rubbed it and let go, and this time when it got paralyzed it felt like the entire tip of my Penis was going to pop! It had never ever felt that way before. Then it relaxed, 
BUT THEN ON ITS OWN IT PARALYZED AGAIN!
I let totally-go of my Penis, but it kept happening! It would go paralyzed, then relax, then paralyze again! Then after a few times it began to feel like I was going to have to piss, but I couldn't hold it in! A little bit of piss
squirted out (at least I though it was piss) a couple of times when my Penis would paralyze like that, all by itself! It happened all by itself without me being able to control it for maybe ten times! Then it seemed to stop. I was breathing real hard and I could feel my heart racing. Then I noticed my piss that came out didn't actually look
like piss. It was thicker and cloudy, and it smelled weird too! Now I tried stroking my Penis again like I had been doing, and...YEOW!! All of a sudden my penis was now so sensitive it was almost painful to even touch it!! 
What had I done?? But it got even worse! This strange thick, cloudy gooey stuff kept oozing out of my penis!
For several minutes it kept oozing! 
OMG!!! WHAT DID I DO???

I went to bed terrified as to what I had done to myself! But somehow, I did get to sleep. Then in the morning, everything was fine again!! My Penis felt nice again when I rubbed it, and I curiously went back into the bathroom and started rubbing it with soap again. I quickly got an erection, and soon my penis started to feel paralyzed again but I just kept rubbing. Then I again had what was a much more enjoyable orgasm and more of that stuff squirted out of me! I was still worried that I was harming myself, but it felt so damn good!!!

So that is how I experienced my very first orgasm and ejaculation.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

A Timeline of Growth

I don't remember noticing that my own dick was growing. However I watched a friend of mine's dick change. He was uncircumcised, the only one like that I knew about for many years. The first time I saw his dick, we had phys ed together in the sixth grade. Everybody tried to be cool with changing clothes but..... they all looked at each other's dicks in the showers and locker room.

So this one guy was uncircumcised and got a lot of stares. In sixth grade he had a little dick with a lot of twisted-up skin at the end of it. I saw him naked every school day and wondered how he could piss with a dick like that. We got to be friends that year (not because of anything sexual at that time, just pals). Later on we would go to the swimming pool together and sometimes change in the same cubicle if there was a crowd. One day in the summer between seventh and eighth grades it hit me that his dick was larger and his dickhead now filled the skin that used to be loose at the tip. His sheath was one continuous wrapper of nice smooth skin that covered his dick with none of the wrinkles my cut peter had. I kept checking him out every chance I got. To me, his unusual dick was very attractive. As it continued to mature, the foreskin retracted slightly from the tip, making an open circle through which his pee slit was visible. As it grew, his dick kept lengthening and thickening. It developed a vein that I thought was a muscle. During this time that I observed him at every chance, I reached puberty and started jacking off but kept that a private matter.

We were in ninth grade before ever getting sexual with each other. While on a camp-out we touched and examined our erections and talked about getting hard. I think we were going to stop with that, but we had made ourselves horny enough that we couldn't stop what we had started. We proceeded to jack off while laying side by side on top of our sleeping bags. By then his dick was much larger than mine. I thought perhaps dicks grew bigger if they were not circumcised. My friend had taken only a few strokes when he produced an enormous stream of cum that made large puddles on his stomach and chest. I was not even close yet, but he had already climaxed. Today I know that he suffered from premature ejaculation, but at that time I believed his quick shots were another result of being uncircumcised.

We jacked together regularly for the next two or three years. He always shot within a few seconds of beginning to pump his lovely uncircumcised erection. He would postpone touching himself (or letting me touch him) until I was nearly ready to cum. Then he took no more than six or seven slow strokes and immediately climaxed with a flood of ejaculate.

Back to the original point, I saw his dick become larger over the years and was well aware that it was growing, but was not aware that my own organ was changing at the same time. I also developed three theories about uncircumcised guys: I thought their dicks were bigger because they were uncircumcised. I thought their climaxes arrived faster because they were uncircumcised. And I thought their loads were larger because they were uncircumcised. All of those deductions were completely wrong but we had some great times climaxing together.
Submitted Anonymous by a Reader

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Re-Post from R*W - My Childhood Best Friend



R*W: Experience - My childhood best friend

I took the phrase literally. "Best" friend meant just ONE person. And my best
friend was Dennis. When we were about 9 years old our moms enrolled us in
beginner swim lessons at the YMCA. In the locker room I couldn't help but notice
that Dennis's penis was more than twice as long as mine! Maybe even three times
as long! (Both of us were circumcised too.) Where mine sort of rested on my
young little scrotum, his dangled quite a distance beyond his scrotum!

Now fast-forward to age 12. I was 5 months older than Dennis, and in early 6th
grade I started developing my first tiny little pubic hairs. Then only about
three weeks later Dennis excitedly tells me that he discovered he's grown
pubic hairs, and asks me if I am too! I was so embarrassed because I was OLDER
than him, and mine had just started too!

Dennis was very articulate and one of his favorite things to do was just be
together and talk. Dennis at age 12 and 13 also LOVED to shop for clothes. He
had a fashion sense that I didn't, and sometimes on Saturdays we'd take our
bikes downtown and we'd shop.

Okay, now jump to 13 and horny me wants to get into his pants! I had recently
discovered masturbating, and I asked him if he had ever heard about "something
called jerking off". He said he had. I then told him I had to, but I didn't know
how it's done, but if I could find out I'd probably try doing it. (All a big
lie.) Dennis didn't bite. He showed no interest. In fact, even when he'd sleep
over I was never able to talk him into doing anything.

At this same time, when we'd go swimming he loved to point out older boys (maybe
14-17 years old) and say things like, "Now THERE'S a perfect specimen!" Anyway,
at the end of 8th grade it became apparent Dennis was moving on to other friends
and have much interest in hanging out with me anymore. (I did accidentally see
him naked in the school showers one time when we were HS juniors. OMG he was
HUGE!! That long pre-puberty penis continued to stay a LOT longer than mine!)


So, now fast-forward to adulthood. I FIND OUT DENNIS IS GAY!!! I then remembered
how he loved to shop, loved to talk, and how he loved starin at the older boys
in their swim trunks! But why when I was so horny for him did he not have any
interest in playing with me??

Seems I was friends with, and sexually attracted to, a few boys in my early
teens who turned out to be gay, but as a teen never seemed interested in me.
How frustrating.

Re-Post from R*W -The Shake Off



When I was six years old I had no Dad or brothers. I used to imitate the way
 I saw my sisters peeing which was sitting down. My mother wanted me to
 know how to pee standing like a boy, so she recruited my cousin who was 16, or so at the time.
One day he came over and we went into the restroom. My cousin said
 "Boys pee standing up, watch me".

 He narrated every little thing that he did.

“First I put the seat up, then I stand like this, then I unzip my pants, then I get my wiener
out..."

I had never ever seen a penis that was as big as my cousins. I didn't think it was normal

"Why is it so big?" I asked.

"It grows just like the rest of my body" he answered.

 "Why do you shake it?" I asked.

 "To get the piss off" he answered. "You try to shake it" he said turning his body
towards me.

I took his dick and quickly put my hand on it to shake it. In that 1 or 2 seconds it felt weird; big, warm and fleshy in my hand. Compared to mine at the time it was enormous.

Then I went to the restroom and my cousin reached down and shook mine off.
 Ever since that day I shake off my penis after using the restroom.  

Monday, September 2, 2013

What Buddies do When "Bored"

"Our mating ritual-What Buddies do When "Bored ”

When I was a young teen you could divide my friends into three groups. Most of my friends were in the group where there was absolutely no sexual activity between us. Another group, two or three boys, we were almost exclusively jerk-off buddies. They rarely called me or came over to my house unless they were horny. Then there was this boy who lived just two houses away. The summer when we were both 14 we were best friends in every sense of the word. That summer we were almost inseparable. We had the same interests, and we genuinely loved each other’s company. We also had what I would now call a “mating ritual”. Deep down inside, though we both thoroughly enjoyed it, I think we felt this was the kind of stuff that “fags do,” and we felt we were definitely not fags.


The “mating ritual” would usually start with one of us, usually him, becoming quiet and perhaps letting out a long sigh. He’d then simply say, “I’m bored”. My response, also in code, would simply be, “Yeah, I am too”. The next line from either one of us, whether we were inside or out, was, “You want to go to my basement?” There was a small photographic darkroom in my basement that my dad used to use but never used any more. The door locked from the inside and could not be opened or unlocked from the outside once the inside lock was locked. There was a nice counter and a working sink, and you could turn on a very dim red light or amber light as well as regular room light. But with all the lights out, it was absolutely pitch black. No shadows whatsoever. It was like being totally blind.

In our mating ritual, without saying a word we would both go into the darkroom, lock the door, and turn out all the lights. We would stand facing each other, then reach over and feel each other’s crotch from outside of our pants. Almost always we’d feel that each of us already had a rock-hard erection in our pants. With our thumb and forefinger we'd often squeeze the sides of each other’s stiff cock from outside of our pants., like feeling a round steel rod that was inside of our clothes. After perhaps a minute rubbing outside our pants, we’d loosen each other’s pants and gently put a hand inside, but still outside of our underpants. After a little more fondling, we both finally would reach inside, touching each other’s pubic hair, then play with each other's warm soft loose testicles, and then grab hold of each other's erect penis. At that point we would then completely pull down the others pants and underpants, and we’d usually take them off completely. Remember that this was all in complete darkness. Neither of us could see a thing.

Under this cover of darkness we did a lot of experimenting with oral sex and trying out different masturbation strokes on each other. We tell each other how good it felt, and it was always a thrill to feel a little slippery wet pre-cum oozing out of his penis. Sometimes we would decide to turn on one of the very dim lights. We would almost always have one of these lights on as we masturbated each other because we both enjoyed watching each other shoot our cum. After we both had a great orgasm we would turn on the regular light so we could wash ourselves off in the sink. We would then also look for spots or puddles of cum that hit the floor, or the counter, or each other. That summer, we repeated this sexual adventure at at least once or twice a week..

We both ended up happily married adults with children. We live in different cities now, but have seen each other occasionally over the years. I don’t think either one of us is embarrassed about what we did together as young boys. We’ve never openly talked about it, but all together with our wives we told them about what really close friends we were when we were boys.

Anonymous

Our Mating Ritual

"Our mating ritual”

When I was a young teen you could divide my friends into three groups. Most of my friends were in the group where there was absolutely no sexual activity between us. Another group, two or three boys, we were almost exclusively jerk-off buddies. They rarely called me or came over to my house unless they were horny. Then there was this boy who lived just two houses away. The summer when we were both 14 we were best friends in every sense of the word. That summer we were almost inseparable. We had the same interests, and we genuinely loved each other’s company. We also had what I would now call a “mating ritual”. Deep down inside, though we both thoroughly enjoyed it, I think we felt this was the kind of stuff that “fags do,” and we felt we were definitely not fags.

The “mating ritual” would usually start with one of us, usually him, becoming quiet and perhaps letting out a long sigh. He’d then simply say, “I’m bored”. My response, also in code, would simply be, “Yeah, I am too”. The next line from either one of us, whether we were inside or out, was, “You want to go to my basement?” There was a small photographic darkroom in my basement that my dad used to use but never used any more. The door locked from the inside and could not be opened or unlocked from the outside once the inside lock was locked. There was a nice counter and a working sink, and you could turn on a very dim red light or amber light as well as regular room light. But with all the lights out, it was absolutely pitch black. No shadows whatsoever. It was like being totally blind.

In our mating ritual, without saying a word we would both go into the darkroom, lock the door, and turn out all the lights. We would stand facing each other, then reach over and feel each other’s crotch from outside of our pants. Almost always we’d feel that each of us already had a rock-hard erection in our pants. With our thumb and forefinger we'd often squeeze the sides of each other’s stiff cock from outside of our pants., like feeling a round steel rod that was inside of our clothes. After perhaps a minute rubbing outside our pants, we’d loosen each other’s pants and gently put a hand inside, but still outside of our underpants. After a little more fondling, we both finally would reach inside, touching each other’s pubic hair, then play with each other's warm soft loose testicles, and then grab hold of each other's erect penis. At that point we would then completely pull down the others pants and underpants, and we’d usually take them off completely. Remember that this was all in complete darkness. Neither of us could see a thing.

Under this cover of darkness we did a lot of experimenting with oral sex and trying out different masturbation strokes on each other. We tell each other how good it felt, and it was always a thrill to feel a little slippery wet pre-cum oozing out of his penis. Sometimes we would decide to turn on one of the very dim lights. We would almost always have one of these lights on as we masturbated each other because we both enjoyed watching each other shoot our cum. After we both had a great orgasm we would turn on the regular light so we could wash ourselves off in the sink. We would then also look for spots or puddles of cum that hit the floor, or the counter, or each other. That summer, we repeated this sexual adventure at at least once or twice a week..

We both ended up happily married adults with children. We live in different cities now, but have seen each other occasionally over the years. I don’t think either one of us is embarrassed about what we did together as young boys. We’ve never openly talked about it, but all together with our wives we told them about what really close friends we were when we were boys.
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