Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Sharing Pocket Candy

In the first comment under The Tree House Massage , Anon mentions "contrived situations." That reminds me of what a guy did that I knew in Junior High.

This kid was a smaller kid than me but we must have been about the same age because we were in the same seventh grade class. The two of us were cleaning out a book closet after school, most likely punishment for some sort of infraction. As we moved stacks of books, the guy asked me,

"Do you have any candy in your pockets?"

I told him no. He kept asking if I had candy and then said he was going to check my pockets and see.

He told me to stand still. He put his right hand into my right front pocket and began feeling around in the pocket, "accidentally" touching my dick. He touched it several times while moving his hand.

"You do have something in there," he said, and put his other hand right on the front of my pants and
felt my junk.

 I thought he had made an honest mistake and that I should tell him that what he felt was not candy at all. But I was embarrassed about the thought of mentioning my dick. I couldn't bring myself to say what was in my mind.

As soon as he took his hand out of my pocket he spread his own pocket and said I should check and see if he had any candy. But I didn't want to, so that was the end of that.

Many times over the years I have regretted being so dumb. If I had played along with his "contrived situation" it would have been my first encounter of that kind. I would have gotten a head start on one of the pleasures of life. I was simply too naive to recognize the opportunity.


Sunday, December 28, 2014

The Tree House Massage

We lived in a house for a few years that had a fort built into a big tree in the back yard. The people that used to live there built it for their kids and now it was mine (and my sister's too, but she never went up there).

The fort was the scene of some very educational experiences with another boy, although at the time I was ignorant of what we were doing. A boy who liked to come over and play in the fort with me was a year or two older but we played together like equals. He told me one day that he had a cramp and maybe it would get better if I would massage it for him.

I asked him where the cramp was and he pointed to the fly of his pants. He said he would lay down on the floor of the fort if I would rub his cramp. Nobody could see us because of the walls of the fort.

He laid down and told me to feel his pants and see how bad his cramp was. No surprise to anybody reading this, he had a boner going which felt to me like a piece of pipe in his clothes. He told me it already felt better because of me feeling it. Then he said to go ahead and rub it. I sat on the floor of the fort and rubbed my hand on his pants right on the bulge that his woody made. He told me I was doing a very good job and maybe a little faster would help.

With me rubbing back and forth on his boner he stretched his legs out real straight. Before long he crossed his ankles and said "A little more, just a little more." Then he added, Faster, faster!" And then he suddenly told me to stop, saying his cramp was fine now.

Well, hell, I was just out of seventh grade and didn't know what was going on inside his pants when I massaged him, but it made me feel real big to do something like that for the dude. Every time he came over he would get a cramp and need me to feel it and then rub it for him. He would have various instructions while I massaged him, sometimes just rubbing the flat palm of my hand around in circles on his thing. Or he would say to use my fingers around the bulge in his pants. He would like it fast or he would like it slow. Sometimes just dragging my fingers back and forth on the bulge. Or to squeeze it.

I was jacking him off through his pants and underwear and he was having orgasms and cumming inside his clothes. But I didn't know all that.

Whenever we were getting close to the end of a massage I could tell we were almost finished by the way he would squirm around and his body would get tense. A lot of times he wanted me to go real fast at the very end. When he got to where he was going he would kind of jump and make a noise and tell me to stop. After I stopped rubbing him he would lay still and get his breath. We did this again and again without me knowing a damn thing about climaxes and ejaculations.

Looking back on the massages I gave him, I'm sure he also jacked off at other times besides our encounters, because he sometimes took a lot longer to reach satisfaction. I would rub his erection for what seemed like a very long time while he wiggled around on the floor of the fort. At times like that his whole body would become rigid and he would tell me "Faster, faster, as fast as you can!" When he would finally tell me to stop after a frantic session like that he would be exhausted.

The massaging went on through the summer after my seventh grade and into my eighth grade. It gave me erections of my own while I worked on him. One time I asked him to feel me and see if he thought I had a cramp. He said he would be glad to. He felt me real good and said yes, I certainly did have a cramp. Then he rubbed it for me, asking if that was okay --- which of course it was. After that time, he would always rub me for a while before I started on him. The rubbing felt good, but my stiffie didn't go away. Also, nothing happened. Not that I knew anything might happen. Either I wasn't ready to shoot cum or he didn't rub long enough.

When I got to the point that I discovered what to do with my boner for myself, I realized exactly what a treat I had been giving that guy, but also what an education I'd received by rubbing his cramp. Neither one of us ever opened our zippers. We just worked on each other's bulge. The one thing I never figured out was how he could bear squirting a load of cum inside his pants all the time.


Friday, December 26, 2014

Our Secret Naughty Christmas

A fun story from Christmas and days long past. 

As we approach Christmas, I am reminded of the story that took place in my youth on Christmas day.
 Every year when I was a kid, Christmas dinner was at my house. After the morning of going to church and opening presents, my mom would be preparing the big Christmas dinner and all the relatives would be coming to the house. There would usually be about 16 of us.
 I was an only child, but I had a same-age cousin that lived right next door to me. The Christmas when we were 14, we were both long-standing secret jerk-off buddies by then. He had two older brothers, and they were at our house too, but they never really associated with us. As my mom was preparing dinner and all the relatives were mulling around the house in conversation, I found myself incredibly horny and in need of a good wank. 
 My cousin and I were just hanging out, not doing much, and then he quietly said to me, “You want to go up to your room?” Without hesitation and with a smile, I said to him, “Let’s go”. My bedroom was upstairs, and it was a location where the two of us had jerked off together many times in the past. But we had never been so bold to try to do it with a house full of people right downstairs.
 We quietly both went upstairs, and by the time we got to the top of the stairs I was now certain that we both had the same thing in mind. He was already unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants before we even got to my room. We closed my door, knowing this was all quite risky because there was only one bathroom in the house, and it was directly across from my bedroom. So we had to be very quiet and alert, because at any time someone could come upstairs to use the toilet.

  Again without any discussion, we both climbed on my bed in our usual positions, pull down our pants and underpants, and then we heard the “slap-slap” of our two very erect penises being released and slapping against our stomachs. I remember, not only did I need it real bad, but the thought that almost every relative we had on earth was in the house right downstairs at the time made it all the more wicked and exciting! We got out my secret bottle of hand lotion and applied some to each other started quietly and deliberately stroking each other’s rock-hard pole. I remember he ended up getting me to climax first, and then I sped up on him he had a really big cum within a minute after me. 
 I kept an old towel on the floor off the left side of the bed, next to the wall. Whether my mom realized it or not, that was my masturbation clean-up towel. My cousin and I, our hands and our stomachs now covered with a mix of both of our cum and hand lotion, were ready for a good cleanup. My cousin then reached down, and then said to me, “Where’s your towel? It’s not here.” I had totally forgotten that when my mom asked me to clean my room, I threw my cum rag into the basement laundry room hamper, and I never replaced it! I panicked a little bit because we were both drenched with cum that point. I scooped as much semen off of my stomach and into my right hand, got off the bed, and holding my shirt with my teeth and my pants up my left hand I snuck out of my bedroom and darted into the bathroom. I wiped myself up with my bath towel, then pulled up my pants and returned to my bedroom carrying that towel. My cousin likewise cleaned himself up and got dressed again. Then we went back downstairs, our hormones relieved and our testicles a little swollen.
(I ended up having to continue to use that bath towel until the end of the week, so as not to make my mom suspicious as to why I needed a new towel.)

Thursday, December 25, 2014

The Book

The Christmas that I was 13 I was just into puberty and had been occasionally masturbating in a state of timid fear. I was not yet fully comfortable with the act. Jacking off was a mysterious and somewhat frightening diversion that I practiced ever so often when I was unable to resist the urge. Pumping my penis until it fired gooey stuff was a strange thing that I didn't totally understand.

After our family opened our presents and while we were having our traditional Christmas breakfast I got a phone call from my best friend Matt, saying "You've gotta come over. You've gotta come over and see something!" This was in the era when people had only land lines. Phone calls could be overheard by anybody in the house. Matt seemed to be talking a lot softer and faster than usual, making me think that he didn't want anybody to know that he'd called me.

I got permission to leave and biked the two blocks to Matt's house. He took me straight to his room and closed the door. "Look at this," he said, in a strange voice.

He went to his bed and pulled a book from under the pillow. It was a textbook-size paperback. The title, best as I can remember, was something like "A Boy and His Body."

What those words meant wasn't immediately obvious to me. I thought of basic stuff like sports skills and good nutrition. Meanwhile Matt opened the book. His voice was shaking: "Look! Look at it!"

Matt held the book open with one hand, jabbing his finger at a drawing with the other hand. I stared at it in disbelief. The drawing depicted the bare male sexual organs, a perfectly drawn illustration of a penis and testicles. I looked at Matt. We were the best of friends, yet his face was red with embarrassment at what he was showing me.

Every detail in the drawing was identified with an arrow and a label. Matt turned pages. Some drawings showed an immature penis. Others showed a full-grown organ. There were cut-away sketches showing the interior parts. The x-ray structure of a pair of testicles was depicted, along with the mysterious prostate and the "tubing" that linked everything together. Matt turned more pages. We saw soft penises and erect penises. Uncircumcised and cut. Horizontal erections, angular erections, vertical erections. Small testicles, tight testicles, huge testicles. A hand wrapped around an erection with arrows depicting back-and-forth motion. Several stages in the growth of public hair.

Besides the drawings there were chapters and chapters of text to read. And, very deep into the book, drawings of the female anatomy.

"Where did you get it?" I finally asked.

"My dad. He gave it to me last night, all wrapped up in Christmas paper. Told me not to tell my mom or anybody."

We looked at chapter titles and sub headings: Puberty. Your Penis. Wet Dreams. Production of Semen. Personal hygiene. Erections. Private Masturbation. Shared Masturbation. And lots more including serious things such as Sexual Ethics, Methods of Birth Control, Being a Thoughtful Partner, Oral Sex and a section titled NO Always Means NO.

A lot of it was way beyond where we were in our own development. And some was freaky, even as I think back on it today. A long discussion of circle jerking, for instance.

The book's immediate effect was to arouse our little boners. We paged back and forth and stared at the drawings while constantly squeezing dicks which had bloomed into big-time stiffies. Although Matt and I had been naked together on many occasions while changing clothes or staying overnight, there'd been no sexual element. Now we beat around the bush for a while and finally admitted to each other that we both knew how to do "it," and what's more, that we needed to do "it" right now. So we faced away from each other to preserve our immature privacy while we jacked off into tissues. It seemed to me that I climaxed within seconds. I couldn't bring myself to look at Matt, but I could hear him catch his breath and then zip up his pants.

Strangely (at least it was strange to me) we became erect again within a few minutes as we continued looking at the book and its very realistic sketches. With only a slight amount of discussion we pulled out our boners for a second time and pumped them again, this time in full view of one another as if we expected to receive a grade on our technique.

The book absorbed our attention for weeks and months. No matter what chapter we studied, we ended up jerking together. Sometimes Matt would tell me at school, "You'll never guess what I read about last night." We would head to his house right after school and he would get out the book and bring me up to date while we engaged in best-friend foreplay. (Thanks to the book we knew that the word "foreplay" was a prelude to "real" sex, but we also decided that that's what we were doing when we helped each other get harder and harder). After a few minutes of staring at pictures and groping each other's crotches, we would end with a mutual wank and twin ejaculations.

The book elevated two dumb little eighth-grade dorks from ignorant random jerkers to daily masturbation partners. What's more, we were probably better informed about every aspect of sex than any of the other kids in our school.

When I left Matt's house that Christmas day, his dad was sitting in the living room. He called me by name and wished me Merry Christmas with a big smile. I tried to appear innocent but I had a feeling he knew exactly what Matt and I had been doing in Matt's room with the door closed.


Friday, December 19, 2014

What Could Two Brothers Want from Me

My sister went to a School for gifted kids in our town. She lived at home with us, but there were dorms on the School campus for kids whose families and homes were far away. She was dating a boy named Julian.
It was the end of the school year (June) and my mom decided to help out by giving him a ride back to his home town, which was about a 3 hour drive from our home and near the coast. I am sure it all was meant to be an opportunity for Mom to meet his parents and family. I was happy to go and see the ocean, and thinking of a Beach and some fun stuff.

When we arrived, their house was pretty small and very country-like. There was no beach to be seen anywhere. They were some kind of farmers and probably poor. There were loads of kids and most seemed very close in age, and about as many girls as boys. I think there were about 6 kids total. Julian was the oldest at about 16 or 17 at the time.

 So with not much to do that afternoon, I was being entertained on the couch by these two teen boys. Their names were Jorge and Felipe. I would guess they were age range about 12 to 13. I was 14 and just finished with 7th grade. We were looking at Game magazines and some Comic Books. There was a boy on either side of me. It seemed like they did not have people over very often, because they were quite excited to have me as a visitor. It was kinda cool  they were paying so much attention to me.

While us three were looking at a magazine in my lap, one boy started pointing at something on the page and was telling me it was cool or funny, I can't remember exactly what it was, but he was pointing at it with his finger. He kept on pressing hard against the magazine and downward to my crotch. I really am not kidding!! It was like this kid making a suggestion to me. It took me a couple of times of this. Then I realized for sure he was trying to discreetly feel me up. When the other brother started doing the same, I knew quite well, that I was their new play-toy. I noticed they looked at each other and kinda smiled. By this time, I got so uncomfortable, that I pulled the magazine up to my chest area and acted like I wanted a closer look at the thing. Then they boys started talking about me sleeping over. I'm telling you - they really wanted me to stay, I was worried they maybe wanted to gang rape me or something? Who knows!

My Mom had plans for us to go after dinner to visit some friends who had moved to a nearby town also along the coast, so I guess whatever these boys had planned to do with me, it sure never got to happen.

It was a couple of nights later, that I was at home in bed, I started wondering how it might have turned that night with those 2 other boys. I got boned instantly thinking maybe those boys might come up to my town for a visit to our family. Maybe one of them might slip into my bed in his undies, and let me have a feel around. At this point I had never done anything with any another person, so even thinking about a feel around was enough to make me shoot.

I guess if I had stayed at that house with all those other boys for a night, something might have happened much earlier in my life?


Wednesday, December 10, 2014

The Case of the Blown-up Peter

Before ever reaching puberty I had a secret kind of friendship with another boy my age who lived two houses away. The two of us enjoyed a no-no, playing with one another's off-limits parts. We were totally naive about sex. I had no idea that a penis could do anything but produce piss and I'm sure my little pal was equally uninformed.

Although the early part of our relationship is very hazy, we first became naughty with each other by pissing together in hidden outdoor places.

What I remember best is the games of "Doctor" that we played when we were in the prime of our naive boyhood. These sessions generally took place in my friend's garage where several pieces of unused furniture were stored. The one who was to be the patient lay on a dresser for examination. The doctor would zero in immediately on his crotch, feel around to locate the patient's little equipment, and say something like "Sir, you have a bump in your pants."

The doctor would assist the patient in unfastening his pants and would then proceed to give the front of the other guy's underwear a good feeling-up. After that the doctor would put the tips of his fingers under the waistband of the patient's briefs. We talked in a very silly way that we thought sounded like what real doctors would say, such as "I must have full access to the bump." At that point, down went the patient's underwear.

Once the patient's privates were revealed, we became very creative in figuring out ways to examine and doctor the forbidden area. We used everything imaginable to check out the other guy's dick and balls. Toilet-paper rollers, leaves, pebbles, key-rings, bottles, hose couplings, small twigs, flower petals - anything that came to hand. We were very creative in examining and treating each other. The doctor often rubbed "medicine" on the patient's penis and balls, asking "Is that better?" We were both circumcised, and we'd unroll the other guy's little circles of loose skin to make sure we treated everything. Our medicines were lotions, perfumes and creams that we pilfered from our bathrooms at home.

We enjoyed touching and being touched. Our private fun was a wonderful secret that built a strong bond between us. Besides our dicks, we also treated each other's assholes. Once I lost a small pebble in my friend's butt by pushing it too far in with a stick. That was a major crisis. We were really worried, but the situation was resolved as soon as he had his next bowel movement. "It came right out when I pooped," he whispered as soon as we saw each other the next day. We broke into laughter, happy as larks.

Did we become hard during all our playing? I don't know about the youngest years, but remember a notable day when I was examining my friend and found that things felt "different" down there. When we got his underwear down, his little dick was indeed different - it was erect, although we didn't know about that phenomenon. His penis seemed to be stretching itself. The organ was longer. Its loose skin was pulled very tight and it resisted my touch. This was new, strange. I remember feeling of it, staring at it without speaking for a moment, and finally (still trying to be funny and hang onto the silly doctor-talk) telling him "No wonder you have a bump, sir, your peter is about to blow up."

After we began having erections (or became aware of having them) we did crazy things to highlight our stiffies during the doctor game, such as wrapping colored ribbon around a boner. One time I found an old 45-RPM record at home and we took turns standing up naked, hanging the record on our little boners and letting the other guy spin it around as fast as he could. We hung onto the concept that a penis with an erection was "about to blow up," saying completely crazy things such as "Careful, sir, we don't want your poor peter to get any worse or it'll blow up."

I had a lot of friends, but only one like that.


Saturday, December 6, 2014

How I Got My Start

How I got my start

Our family were church people. We went to church every time the doors were open. My father was on the board and my mother sang in the choir. Other than going to church, the only thing I knew about was school. So there were really only two environments in my young life, school and church.

My discovery of masturbation took place when I was 14, later than most guys. It happened at church. During the sermon I left the balcony and went to the upstairs restroom. Not sure whether I went there because my dick was already stiff, or whether it become erect once I got to the restroom. At any rate, I remember needing to piss but being distracted by my dick sticking stiffly out of my pants. It was so hard that I continued standing at the urinal, squeezing and wiggling my boner. I was literally playing with myself. Soon I was sliding my hand back and forth on my hard dick just because it seemed to help the feelings. I was not expecting anything to happen.

But something did happen. It was so frightening and I was such a "Nice" boy that it scared hell out of me. As I began to experience the sensations of masturbation for the first time, I got scared. I was certain that what I was doing was dangerous and that I should stop immediately.

However I was sort of hypnotized, completely unable to stop. My hand just kept moving. The sensations kept growing. They reached a frightening peak. I nearly passed out as the ejaculatory sensations slammed me. At the same time that the feelings peaked, a lot of mysterious stuff shot out of my virgin penis.

There is a family picture of us taken when I was at that age. My blond hair was combed to perfection. I had on a dress-shirt and tie. If anybody had seen me jacking off in the church restroom that first time, I would have presented quite a sight standing there and wanking in my good clothes. Very likely my tie was flapping from side to side. The beautifully-combed hair may have been bouncing. My glasses probably slid down my nose while I jacked. And my eyes may have grown as big as pogs when the climax hit and my first load shot into the urinal.

My second experience with masturbation took place exactly a week later. During the week I was always thinking about what had happened at the urinal. Now, as I sat in the balcony again, I was cursed with the hardest erection I'd ever had, plus consumed with curiosity to find out whether the strange things involving my penis were a one-time fluke, or something that could happen again. I will simply report that my trip to the urinal was a success. As I jacked myself I paid careful attention to the mounting feelings and was accurately able to predict the moment at which the weird squirt would take place.

I was hooked. The procedure settled into a Sunday ritual, with one alteration. I now locked myself into a stall to masturbate after a man walked in on me while I was in the middle of exercising my erection at the urinal.

Using the stall led to a strange process that I enjoyed. I stood up while I wanked, with my dick sticking out of the fly of my Sunday pants. At first I merely shot into the toilet. But as I became more accustomed to jacking off, I dropped my pants and briefs all the way to the floor while I pumped my boner. As the climax approached I turned sideways and stepped toward the partition of the stall, raising my shirt to protect it from my ejaculation. Just a second or two before climaxing, I pressed my body against the partition, mashing my stiff dick between my stomach and the wall. Then I rubbed my dick against the partition until my load shot. I continued rubbing like that while all the ejaculate was expelled.

Next I quickly stepped back so that the cum which was running down the wall did not drip onto my pants and underwear. I used toilet paper to clean cum off my stomach and dick. I pulled my pants up, washed my hands, and went back into the balcony leaving wet ejaculate on the partition and floor.

I may have been more horny than the typical kid at that age. I say that because when I went back to the balcony after climaxing, my dick would immediately get hard again while I recalled the excellent feelings I'd enjoyed just a few minutes earlier. Or maybe my constant horny state was because I waited a week between masturbations (it was several months before I dared to do it more than once a week).

At any rate, I would look forward with constant erections to my glorious Sundayorgasm in the locked stall.


Monday, December 1, 2014

Autumn Leaves

Autumn Leaves

The falling leaves are really piling up, and that reminds me of playing in the leaves with one of my friends.

We would rake up leaves from several yards and then take turns burying each other in a pile of leaves as big as we could make. Whoever was covered up would lie perfectly still and wait for what was about to happen. The other guy snuck up and stuck his hand into the pile and tried to locate his friend's crotch and give his privates a good squeeze. Plus finding out if our buddy was erect, which he always was.

The buried guy of course rolled around from side to side to try and escape the searching hand but he usually got squeezed. Finally he jumped up through the leaves when his crotch was grabbed and tackled the other guy. Then we traded places and piled up the leaves again. It was some of the best fun I remember from those days, us having boners together and jumping around and rolling laughing through the leaves.

We got such a kick out of it that we ramped it up a notch or two. If the pile of leaves was dense enough, the guy under the leaves could unzip his pants and get his hard dick out without anybody seeing it - which gave both the grabber and the grabbee an extra treat. I remember my friend always saying "Huh-huh-huh!" real funny in a Beavis-and-Butthead sort of way every time he grabbed me and discovered my boner sticking out.

If the guy under the leaves had his dick exposed, he was at a disadvantage because he couldn't roll out of the leaves and tackle the other guy until he got it back into his pants. Despite that, we took every opportunity to make our boners available for the other guy to grab.

Sometimes one of us jacked off while buried in the leaves. The other guy had to watch and give a warning if he thought anybody could tell what was going on. Shooting cum under all the leaves was messy and I always turned on my side so the stuff would squirt away from me.

Other kids played in the leaves too, but I doubt if they did it the same way we did.