Thursday, January 30, 2014

A Divine Intent

I sent this story to FE-Raw and they posted it. Now that site is dead. Maybe it will count as a school story here.

I went to a parochial school and sang in the boys choir which sang for the school masses. We sat in the choir loft (balcony) of the church while the priest talked downstairs. One day another boy poked me and pointed across the balcony. On the other side of the organ there was a boy sitting by himself  with his legs stuck out straight and leaning back in his chair. He had his arms inside his choir robe and holding the front of his robe up where it covered his lap. The robe was kind of shaking. We could tell what he was doing. He was jacking off inside his robe. 


Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Boys in the Tool Shed

 I guess I'm late with this. Here goes:

Not everybody had the kind of privacy you guys talk about. At our house every room was always full of people. Bedrooms did not have locks. There was just one bathroom and it was a busy place. During my early years (middle school) I almost always masturbated in a school restroom while standing at a urinal. Holidays and summers I did it in the restrooms of parks or stores.

On moving to high school it was not practical to jerk in the restrooms due to teachers patrolling for security. Around that time another guy became my buddy. Through most of high school we jacked in an old toolshed that was surrounded by trees and underbrush where a house burned down long before.
We never had a place to lay down together. The two of us jacked while standing up and keeping watch through the cracks. Our cum shot in the dirt or on the walls. We just shook it off our dicks. No tissues or washrags, it just went wherever it did. 


It Was Sweet and Trusting

The following author presents this story with some open ended questions. I believe at the time it happened he handled it with grace and conscience. I will have a comment after posting but leave plenty of room for  comments.

Hopefully this will not offend anybody due to the type of person involved. At the time it happened I thought it was strange but with the passage of time I believe it was sort of sweet and trusting. I wonder whether it could have gone further.

In the eighth grade we went on a field trip to a Christmas tree farm. Some special-needs kids came along and we were warned in advance to be nice to them. One of those boys followed me around and talked to me. He was extremely polite but obviously a special kid. We had not been there long until he led me away from the group and into the trees. As soon as we were out of sight from everybody else he wanted to know a strange thing: if I thought this was a good place to pee. I told him yeah, to go ahead if he needed to. But that wasn’t what he meant. He wanted to know if I needed to pee. He kept talking about it, telling me I’d better pee. After while I decided to just do it so he would be satisfied. I told him okay, let me get behind a big tree and I’ll pee.

I had no sooner got those words out of my mouth than he became hyper, wanting to know for sure that I was really going to pee. I turned completely away from him, got my dick out and began to piss. He inched closer and closer talking like it was a game, saying he was going to peek. When he came into my peripheral vision, he was not only peeking but also busy squeezing the front of his pants. By the time I finished urinating, he had moved where he could look straight at my dick while rubbing his hand back and forth on his bulge. I’ll be honest, I got hard myself while watching him. He stood looking at my boner, his mouth partway open and his hand constantly rubbing. That’s the point where I think something else might have happened, but I felt strange and told him we needed to find the other kids. He said “In a minute,” and kept rubbing himself. Before long he made little squeaking noises and stopped rubbing. 

There are many things I have wondered since then. Why did he pick me? Did he somehow sense that I might be interested? Would he have shown me his dick if I’d given him a chance? Was he hoping that I would jack off? Did he habitually ask guys to pee so he could watch? Did he regularly climax inside his pants? Did he have a buddy to do it with? A million questions. Sometimes I wish we had done more. Other times I think it’s a good thing we didn’t. 


Friday, January 24, 2014

There IS Something Down There

(Eric - Somebody mentioned "playground" in a comment. It reminded me of this strange incident in my past.)

When I was in the sixth grade I was the object of a lot of ridicule. I was basically a wimp at that age, a good student but poorly socialized and completely non-confrontational, an easy target.

One of the guys in our class was loud and physical and sort of abusive. He frequently made fun of me. While we were at recess on the playground one time he knocked me down and groped my crotch in front of some other kids. He squeezed my balls and dick and ran his hand back and forth on my fly. Then he said loudly,
"Nope, nothing down there"
then he laughed to the others.

It was very embarrassing but it had a strange effect on me. After I got away from him my junk was tingling and I got a boner. More important, even though I was scared to death of him, I really wanted that bully to feel me like that again. Day after day I stood around on the playground where he could see me, hoping that he would target me and grab my crotch once more. When I got boners I wished he could feel me right then so he would know that there actually was "something" down there.

I followed him around for days, listening to all sorts of abuse and threats, hoping he would knock me down and rub my crotch again. It never happened.

Was that weird, or what?

Spotty Evidence

I have an upstairs office which is a converted 4th bedroom. So it's close to all the other bedrooms. Occasionally my son would be hanging out with one of his friends in his room....and then I'd hear the door quietly shut. A while later, the door would open and they'd leave. Maybe go downstairs to watch TV, or maybe even leave the house together to go someplace.

It got my curiosity up, and sure enough, right after they left I checked out his room and found fresh soaked tissues in his waste can. Then on the absolute convincing occasion (perv that I was), I was even able to identify several drops of special fluid on the chair in front of his computer desk. Was it my son's or his friend's? Or a combination of both? I'll never know. But I do know that these fluids were released while they were together with the door shut. I never said anything about this to him.

 This happened often with this one boy when they were in 8th grade. (And that boy is now married and has a 2 year-old and a new baby.) He and my son are still very good friends. But I'm sure “that” part of the relationship has long since ended. I had never imagined they might be sharing anything other than rolling a much needed teen ejaculation. However it was just with this one friend that his door was ever closed during the daytime. As I think more about their sleep-overs I may recall some events of interest to your readers.


Tuesday, January 21, 2014

The Musk of Derrick

I knew a young friend Derrick from  the age of 16 to 18 while I was in my mid 20s. Since we had a fun hobby in common, officially I was his mentor. His other hobby was skating, and he looked the part and was the typical skate kid in van's baggy shorts and a print T-shirt.  He was a late teen, but in his face he looked 14, and with that skinny body, he was even more attractive.

  I took every opportunity for hanging out with him to enjoy his cuteness, sense of humor and seeing his lean slender body. Sadly, it never advanced beyond just the adoration that I had, but I did get to hang out with him a lot and sometimes, when in his bedroom at his parents house.... I noticed he seemed to have a very unusual smell in there. Ultimately I decided it was the  smell of spunk, I reckon at that age, he was quite prolific at cum production and wanking. I can recall even when we were out at the Mall or at maybe Restaurants his clothes even had that smell.

His musky smell was an instant turn on, but amplified by his occasional groin adjustment moves. I guess he needed to move the boys around a good bit and it seemed to happen all the time. Even when we were standing opposite each other. I often became curious if he was mindlessly sending me horny signals, but then I was so anxious for any confirmation, I guess I was overcharged in my attraction to him.
I soo regret that I  never got to see his goods but I daringly snuck a touch one time he was asleep.  I wrote about that in a longer story specifically about him, but I never mentioned his attractive guy smell.


Monday, January 20, 2014

What to do with the Stuff

While we're thinking about "little things," here's a question: 
When you were a lad, how did you collect and dispose of your ejaculate? Most of my jacking took place in bed. Whenever I stroked my little weenie I was always worried about leaving evidence behind in my covers or on my clothes. My method was to take a washcloth to bed with me. I shot into the cloth, folded it to contain the gooey stuff, and used it to wipe my dick. Then I folded it some more and tucked it into my underwear. The next morning I washed it out in the bathroom and hung it on a towel rack

Kleenex Capture Method

Something very humorous:
 I have a nephew who is nine years younger than me. 
When I was in college I was at their house one day and 
he wanted to show me something in his room. I can't even
remember what it was. What I do remember is immediately
seeing a large box of Kleenex on his nightstand and a small
trashcan absolutely overflowing with wadded tissues next 
to the bed. You can imagine how I interpreted that evidence.
 I thought, "Well good for you, lil' buddy, you've found out
 how to operate your dick!" It was all I could do to keep 
from patting him on the back and congratulating him. 

Sunday, January 19, 2014

A Couple of Crazy Things for a Boy

Author's Note:
I don't know if this is worth putting on the blog or not. Just two crazy things I did as a boy.

 The first one, I had a neighbor boy that we pissed together and showed our peters to each other. One day he told me his dick had grown a lot and he would show me. But he was just kidding. He held a toilet paper roller in front of his zipper and told me to look at his big dick. So I went home and got a roller from some paper towels and showed him a bigger dick than he showed me. Then he had to do it one better than me, and he got a tube that some wrapping paper came on, which was three or four feet long. He found another tube for me and we had sword fights with the tubes stuck into our zippers pretending we had really huge dicks.

The other thing, a teenage boy was friends with me about the time when I just started shooting cum. He was too old to be playing doctor, but a lot of times gave me a private exam of my junk and.......well I guess, we played like we were little. I would lay down, he unbuttoned me and gave me very nice jerks (wanks). Sometimes we traded places and I did it for him too. On the times I did it to him first,  I would get so hard that my dick hurt before I was finally finished with him.


Well. I would say it easily qualifies for the blog, you are describing points well within our scope of focus, so thanks indeed for your story submission.

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Developing Bumps

When I was growing up I had no sisters, no Internet, no girlie magazines, and the very modest mother who I never saw naked. This might sound very strange but at the time, I had no idea that only boys had a penis and testicles.

 In very early sixth-grade I discovered I was developing "bumps", about the size of large grapes, under my nipples. I knew they were never there before, and they were tender when I touched them or squeezed them. Like the person above who thought he was a girl having a period through his penis, I was thinking I was actually a girl and someone had made very horrible mistake raising me as a boy! 

After several days I confided my fear to my best friend. Luckily, he had a sister. I remember so distinctly him telling me, "That's stupid. You've got a dick. I've seen it. You're not a girl." (Now I had many more questions because I was so confused. But he later convinced his 10-year-old sister to pull down her pants so I could actually see what girls looked like down there.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

The Deluxe Massage

This is a superb story of a rare and exciting incident. I ask you to imagine yourself being in the Author's place and time to fully luxuriate in this tale.

I came of age sexually at 13 while living in a large city in the interior of Mexico. The company my father worked for sent us there for several years. Some of the boys in the neighborhood made friends with me and we all played together. I knew very little Spanish but most of them could make themselves understood in English. Altogether it was a fun experience.

Some of my friends told me about going to a health club for a steam bath and massage. One Saturday night three of us walked to the club. By then I was probably 14, not more than 15. The boys warned me in advance that we were too young to get in, but not to worry. We were met at the door by an angry-looking middle-age man in a suit who told us that his club was not for babies and ordered us to go away. The Mexican boys yelled at him for a minute, then laughed. We took off walking again, going around the block and down an alley. A young guy was waiting at a back door and let us in without a word. One of the boys gave him some money. As we walked toward the lobby, the man who had run us off met us at the counter and took our entrance fee. He was all smiles now and pointed toward the stairs.

We went up to a locker room and stripped naked, my first time to see the other boys' uncircumcised peters. And of course they were checking out the gringo's junk too. Then to the steam bath where we sat for about 15 minutes and sweated like hogs and breathed the hot vapor. Men were constantly entering and leaving the steam bath. A few younger dudes, too, who must have bribed their way in the back door like we had. They all sat around and talked or napped in the nude, a few with a towel over their lap but most of them completely exposed. The next thing was a cold shower and then we sat on a bench along with other naked guys, everybody waiting their turn to enter the massage room.

It was the first massage I ever had, and it did feel good. The young masseur was apparently a body-builder, highly muscular. He rubbed me down, popped my neck, mashed my spine, and manipulated all my joints. At the end he rubbed scented oil all over me.

As we were dressing, the other boys asked me how I liked it. They had kind of intentionally cute smiles on their faces. Of course I said it was nice and I'd like to do it again sometime. They kept prompting me for more details and soon one of them said to the other in Spanish, "He did not get the deluxe massage." They argued about whether to go back upstairs and demand the deluxe job for me, but it was late and we'd been gone a little too long.

On the following Saturday we went to the club and again entered through the back door. This time my friends told me to say the word "deluxe" (with a Spanish accent) while getting onto the massage table. I did what they said. The masseur responded with a question that I didn't understand. I told him "deluxe" again. Then he switched to highly accented English:

 "Americano? How many years, you?" I had been prepared for that also, and told him "eighteen" in my pitiful Spanish. At that he laughed out loud and gave me a conspiratorial whack on the shoulder. "Yezzz!" he told me with a happy smile, letting me know that he didn't believe me for a minute but it seems he was willing to accept the lie.

At first this massage was a repeat of the other one. However, the muscular masseur soon began concentrating his attention very close to my crotch. He would rub some part of my body and then lightly touch my thigh in passing. Or he would accidentally brush my dick. It began to dawn on me what my friends had set me up for: the guy was going to arouse me and give me a professional masturbation! That's what "deluxe" meant! No wonder the boys had traded those funny smiles with each other.

As he worked he made comments such as "Beautiful, you hairs." He was certainly adept at his job, bringing me quickly to a very stiff erection. Now that he had me hard, he tickled my balls and groin as well as giving extra attention to my nipples and even the soles of my feet. After seeming to ignore my boner for a while, he said "You are ready?"

What could I do? I nodded at him. "I approach," he told me, and put his hand around my hard penis. "Oh, yezzzz," he said. "Very good."

I expected a straightforward pump job now that he had begun. But he continued to massage other parts of my body, stimulating my boner for a moment and then rubbing some other location. For what seemed like a long time he did nothing but stroke big circles around the base of my balls while my dick got harder and harder.

Finally he was jacking me with a slow constant rhythm while continuing to tickle other parts of me. I could not keep my legs still as he took me closer and closer to a climax.

"Now!" I told him, using the Spanish word "ahora" and thinking that it would be polite to warn him before I sprayed cum all over him. "Now!"

"Yezzz!" he said pleasantly. "Is now you make the milk."

And I did "Make the milk," feeling load after load course through me and shoot out of my stiff penis. He caught the discharge in a towel. When I had finished ejaculating he wrapped a warm towel around my dick and balls while he rubbed me down with scented oil. 

I laid there enjoying the last few seconds of the Deluxe massage. It seemed much shorter in time span than any other massage, yet all over I felt completely relaxed and limp like a ripe mango.

My friends were waiting for me, giving each other the funny grins again. "Eh?" one of them asked. "Good?"

I didn't acknowledge their accusations. Although I was very sure that most of them had received the Deluxe massage, my social decorum described I deny a Male on Male encounter with an adult.

My friends and I never masturbated together, but we went to the steam bath nearly every Saturday night where the big weight-lifting young guy accepted our claims that we were eighteen. Despite not becoming jacking buddies, we had a strange form of intimacy with each other through our mutual nakedness and our high-class masturbations. And of course we also tried to guess which of the other clients requested deluxe massages.


Saturday, January 11, 2014

Doing Something Naughty

 About a year ago I was going home on the train late at night after meeting friends for drinks. I had to change trains at a station near to my home to get the final connection. I was the only person to exit the train, it was fairy cold and windy so I stood behind a wind shelter. 
A few yards away there was a bench. After a couple minutes a boy appeared from the stairs and looking around him sat on the bench. He did not see me as I was tucked away out of the wind. I was a little drunk and so was happily watching this good looking boy when I noticed he was rubbing his groin. The rubbing got more vigorous and he nervously was looking left and right. He got braver and was really giving his Boner a good rub I was in heaven watching I cannot lie. He must have been reaching climax as he moved his hand to his fly and I know he was going to pull his cock out and ejaculate on the floor.
 Just as I was eagerly awaiting the climax voices were heard on the stairs and he quickly done up his fly and crossed his legs looking very casual. I was so annoyed, those people ruined my ultimate fantasy being a secret voyeur on a hot young boy doing something naughty when he thought no one was about. 
I still wonder to this day what he would have done if those voices weren't in the tunnel. I wonder if I would have waited for him to start ejaculating and stepped out from behind the shelter. How would he have reacted. 
Would he let me help? 

Thursday, January 9, 2014

The Secret Sandbox

Author's Note
Your readers might be interested in what my cousin and I used to do.

 When I was growing up I liked to visit my grandmother because she had a sand box in the back yard for my cousins and me to play in. There was a secret nasty activity that I did when I was the only kid there. Instead of going in the house when I needed to use the bathroom, I peed in the sand box. At first I scooped a hole in the sand and lay down on top of the sand with my peter poking into the hole. Later, maybe first grade, I just got down on my knees to pee in the hole. I would turn my back to the house so nobody could see what I was doing. Sometimes I tried to pee real fast so the hole would fill up with piss but it never happened. The sand absorbed my pee too fast. Another way I did it, I would sit on the edge of the sand box and point my dick at the hole to piss.

One time I was peeing and the screen door slammed. My cousin that was about my age came running out to play with me. I could hear him coming and tried to quit peeing! We were maybe in the second grade then. I couldn't stop pissing in time and he caught me and looked at my dick. But it was okay because then he wanted to try it too. That was a big day for me. He started getting his dick out of his pants and I was so excited inside. I was afraid he wouldn't really do it, that he was just kidding. I kept thinking, is he really going to get it out? Will I see it? He probably won't do it. But he did. When his little dick popped out of his pants it was unbelievable to me that I was seeing somebody else's dick. After we got started doing it together we would take turns peeing in the sand, one of us keeping a lookout for the other one.

Pissing in the sand box was the most awesome and private secret I had as a little kid. I was so experienced at pissing outdoors, that I would sometimes pee behind the bushes during recess at school.

Later when I started wanking I thought it would be cool to shoot a load in the sand box in memory of childhood days when we peed in the sand. I went and sat on the edge and rubbed my pants where my little boner was stiff. I looked around and wondered how I had the guts to piss right out in the open. I must have been very naïve. It wasn't safe at all. There were houses and yards all around and anybody could have seen. So I chickened out and never wanked there.


Early discovery spans a spectrum of differing opportunities. Everyone has some version of a story very much like this however when, where, and how brings true magic to the tale when told.
Thanks for sharing, Eric

Friday, January 3, 2014

The Perfect Penis

Why I suddenly remembered this is a mystery. The summer between seventh and eighth grade some other guys and me went to a wilderness camp in the mountains of New Mexico. All the boys in my cabin were the same age as me. We were divided into groups with a slightly older and experienced boy as the mentor of each group, plus an adult counselor over the whole cabin.

Charles, the mentor for my group, was fifteen, just two years older than us boys. He was a very confident guy for his age. He could do anything. Nothing ever upset him.

And one thing more that I personally noticed - and wondered if any of the other boys did: He had absolutely the most perfect penis.
It was beautifully proportioned, longer and thicker than most, a relaxed cylinder hanging gently straight down between his thighs. Never shriveled up, never erect. Neither threatening nor wimpy, just totally beautiful. Like the leader himself, it seemed to radiate confidence. Charles was often naked in front of us while he changed or showered. When he walked, his dick moved with gentle motions in time to his steps. His penis was neither bent nor twisted (mine curved to one side which I thought was a result of frequent masturbation). He was circumcised, and in his case the operation had added character to his organ. To top things off, Charles seemed completely unaware of his penis, never touching himself or rearranging anything.

One day a boy in a bunk close to mine got upset about something. Charles was apparently in the act of getting dressed. He came to the boy's bunk wearing only a t-shirt and socks and carrying a jock strap in his hand. His penis hung patiently across his scrotum and down between his thighs. His pubes were a wreath of light brown curls. I sat in my lower bunk, eyes at exactly the right level to observe Charles's beautiful, manly penis while he stood to talk with the angry boy. I suspect every pair of eyes in that part of the cabin was aimed at that perfect penis. It possessed an attractive softness, but there was no doubt that it would swell and lengthen and stiffen into a formidable tool under the right circumstances.

Some of the other boys may have done what I did after Charles stepped into his jock and went back to his own bunk.

I locked myself in a bathroom stall and added another millimeter of curve to my own inadequate dick by rapidly banging out an ejaculation in honor of getting an extended look at Charles's perfect penis.


Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Wizards of Wands and Wanking

Me and two friends, we had us a New Year's Harry Potter festival the last couple days and watched all the movies from first to last. Here is the question we all had. Which boys were jackers? 

If the stories were true to real life, which of the boys pumped out their loads? Which movie would it happen in? We all think Neville Longbottom was ripe in about the third and fourth ones (Prisoner of Azkaban and Goblet of Fire). Also I think Draco's only real happiness in life was to wank himself constantly. Maybe until they show him grown up in Half Blood Prince. 

Anybody got an opinion?


Band Blowhards and Mouthpieces

Maybe this is a little off the topic here, but the mention of band and mouthpieces reminded me. 

In band a lot of the boys secretly made jokes about the size of people's dicks being equivalent to the size of their mouthpiece. For instance tuba players use a large mouthpiece so they made jokes and sneaky comments about having big dicks. Their targets were usually horn players because French horns have small mouthpieces. There was a huge amount of sexual entendre going on in band. The percussion people, especially bass drum players (and tympani players in orchestra) had to put up with jokes about using their dicks for drumsticks. Boys who played drums in garage bands (particularly those who played in a really insane style) were thought to be prolific masturbators. Also I would watch guitar players twist and jump and think they were using their guitars to rub their dicks or hide a boner.